Hi,
If you are reading this expecting humour, or gossip, or if you are bored… just stop. Save yourself the bother. This is going to be an exercise in me exploring how I feel about myself. I need to talk to someone, anyone, and I don’t feel strong enough to phone LIFELINE [0808 808 8000 for those who can] so I’m going to talk to myself. Fine; it’s the first sign of madness, but I don’t really give a DAMN what anyone has to say about that.
I had my first every counselling/therapy session today. I know most people are thinking what the fuck is she getting that for? There’s fuck all in her life that could be bad enough to need that. Well that is not true; there’s a LOT of shit below the surface, stuff I have told nobody about, and won’t be telling most people either- so move on if you just want a juicy piece to spread about.
To request an appointment or for further information
Info@nexusinstitute.org
- Belfast
- L’Derry
- Portadown
- Enniskillen
First, the main thing you have to get is my self-hatred. I don’t mean this in the ‘oh I look like crap today’ sort of way. I mean it in how people despise the Nazis way. I literally loathe myself. For years I didn’t have a mirror in my house because I literally felt nauseous when I caught a glimpse of myself. This has been true whether I was size 8 or size 28. I cannot stand myself, I hate my voice, my body, my mind, my personality etc. I have tried [and nearly succeeded] on a number of occasions to end my life. The drs don’t care- don’t worry, I won’t be trying that again until my son is fully grown. He literally only has me to depend on, and he has enough to worry about.
There is no need to rush off and report me to anyone. There will zero self-harming behaviours here, the only things I use to hurt myself are thoughts and memories.
I also have no sense of self-worth, I loathe myself, and looking after myself because I do not feel worthy of care. I never have. I didn’t feel loved and cared for anywhere, from birth. I was always on my own. Separate from everyone else. Other people hugged, for me it was like being shoved in a vice…. I make sure that my son feels hugs are natural and loving. I say loving things to him. All through my life people called me names- fat, skinny, ugly, stupid, nerd, seahag, bitch, her, that girl…. People seemed to openly despise me; they would say things[in every school I went to, and I went to lots] like I was diseased a freak, a loner, a moonbeam, a mongol[I later discovered what this word means…] When people see me they don’t say hi, how are you? They say you look fat, why aren’t you..., why don’t you…, you should have done your hair etc. Meh, maybe I’m being ‘hypersensitive’ and too ‘American about feelings’ but that’s preferable to being a sociopath/psychopath. At least I care, albeit too much. Some people I know don’t seem to have any, and refuse to display any besides a ‘happy, smiling face’, even behind closed doors. Little hint- denying negative emotions doesn’t eradicate them.
Don’t you understand that whenever it hurts to even sit still; doing stuff hurts more. I wish frequently that I do not exist. That I didn’t have to feel. You say I am full of excuses, that I am lazy, that I don’t have any push. That I should ‘get off the happy pills’/anti-depressants…. If you could feel one tenth of what I feel, you would understand why I never could get off them. It’s too dangerous, yes I do loose weight when I stop taking them but to be honest I would rather be fat and here for DS than thin and too depressed to get out of bed. Even on the highest dose I find it difficult to survive. Living a full life is NOT an option between my mood, my pain and DS’s special needs.
Get out and about is another frequent whine of the do-gooders. Firstly that only works for MILD depression which is caused by an event. Mine is a chemical imbalance. People terrify me. Places terrify me. I get huge panic attacks. Just collecting my child from school can exhaust my energy for the day, and no that’s not just because I need to loose weight. In me; it is the energy and stress of being around people. Being outside my door doesn’t feel safe. What did you do today? Go out in the sun? You know what I did? I locked my doors and windows and blinds/curtains. I didn’t answer the door. I hate the sunshine, people are expected to go outdoors. And it’s so busy. It might be a simple ‘hello’ to you, to me it is a panic-inducing experience which makes me feel nervous, nauseous, dizzy, unable to concentrate and so tense that when I get back indoors; it feels like I have run a marathon.
And some of you may know I am getting counselling from Nexus Inst., if you bother to look it up, you should understand why it is difficult for me. It will happen for at least six months for the introductory sessions…. It may be over a long number of years that I approach this- please support me during this time… I’m likely to blow up for nothing during this time…
Oh and ‘person x’ did not ‘have a tougher life’, they had a DIFFERENT life, it is not a CONTEST and you know not even a tenth of my life story, no matter how ‘close’ you think you are. Life is NOT a fucking pissing contest. And to a certain person/s - you KNEW I had my first therapy session today. You knew, and you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. That hurt. I know it shouldn’t since you have hurt my heart since childhood. But it did. You are so busy ‘punishing’ me for expressing my emotions that you couldn’t even reach out a helping hand, but you know what, fuck it. You cannot hurt me anymore. I will not apologise for being me. If you want to continue being judgemental and disappointed, go right ahead, because nothing you can say or do can hurt me more than my memories and I can.
Don’t think me stupid though M/P; if DS wasn’t in the picture, you would be long gone. And that’s fine. Build a relationship with him. But you sure as hell will respect me in front of him. Think whatever the heck you want, but don’t say it. Remember, he repeats you word for word.
And people, if I DON’T want to tell you something; tough titties. It’s MY life. This is MY blog. MINE. Personal to me. I can be a fucking cryptic as I want. Or as blatant as I want. Having an opinion is NOT illegal!
Oh and DS? He is MY son. I will raise him how I want, and I WILL seek help for his obvious problems. Being in denial about his needs just makes a fool out of you; there’s a whole TEAM of professionals who work with him… I’m going to listen to them, not you.
So tl;dr? Basically I’m a seething pit of self-hate and depression and I wish I didn’t have to exist . And you have no power over me. But it sucks that I have to make this journey alone, but then again bumptious immature idiots masquerading as mature, loving people aren’t my thing anymore. So if you genuinely want to help, to listen, to care; stay here, realising I won’t always be my ‘cheerful’ fake self, especially on Fridays.
If you want to tout, control, manipulate, gossip do me a favour and unfriend me.
If I discover anyone spreading what I said here to people not on fb, they will be blocked and deleted.
No comments:
Post a Comment