Cause I’m fucked up, because you are

I had an amazing weekend.  Despite this hitting a number of triggeringly trigger things and despite me crying naked on top of someone…

 

We’ll get to that.

 

On Friday I sat down in my counsellor’s office and said ‘I am a freak.  There is a man trying to get into a loving relationship with me, who tells me that I’m beautiful and whose jaw visibly dropped the first time we went on a date… and it fucking terrifies me and I have no idea how to process it’

 

It fucking upsets me.  What kind of messed up human being am I that can’t cope with being loved?  What does that say about me?  He tells me that he loves me and all I can feel is suspicion.  All I can think is ‘what do you want though?’  I look into his eyes and I don’t see that at all and yet it’s what my head can’t get round.  This roadblock of ‘we got completely used before’.

 

Speaking of which…  The gods are cruel and have a sense of humour…  ‘Let’s go to the pub’ ‘I’m not sure… EX and OTHER BINT go there’ ‘They haven’t been in ages, I asked around’
I went knowing full well that they would be there.  I could have been told that they had moved to the moon and known that they would show up.
They did.

 

The worst thing?  I was sat there and enjoying myself but I was on edge because I KNEW… and then I saw him and I felt fear.  Pure physical fear.  My hands started shaking.  He was never violent towards me, never abusive and never giving me any reason to be SCARED of the bastard… and yet there we were.

 

I’ve been trying to think about it a lot and the only explanation I can think of is that it’s the fear of being hurt again.  The fear of looking into the eyes of someone that I had loved so fucking utterly and completely for seven years and seeing nothing there.  I don’t love him anymore, I have no feelings anymore… except fear apparently.

 

So then I’m sat there, feeling this physical fear and being appalled with myself for it.  How can they instill that in me?  Why the hell am I shaking?  This is bullshit.

 

He looked in my direction, did this half hearted completely fake smile and then disappeared upstairs with her.

 

So we left the pub and walked back while he wished he’d thrown one of the wooden tables at them and I wished that I hadn’t had some horrendous fear reaction I couldn’t understand.

 

I have had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life this weekend… and I’ve also cried on the guy while I was having some of it because of the emotional release.

 

I’ve felt so lonely, so incredibly fucking lonely.  I wanted to die so badly.  The feeling of being unwanted and alone was like a rusty, blunt knife that would carve into me and make me lie on my hall floor crying weakly.  It just backed up the idea that I wasn’t good enough, I was never going to be good enough.  My love wasn’t good enough.
Then this guy comes… and he’s just as damaged as me.  It’s like someone zapped in the male version of me from some other reality.  The issue is we both sit there quietly assuming the worst about the other because of past experience.  He is scared that I’m just using him and I’m scared he’s just using me.  But he tells me that he loves me and I can’t reply back.  I know that I do… but that’s ridiculous (the voice says), I haven’t known him that long so I can’t possibly be in love with him.  He’s just saying it to me (the voice says) because he knows that it will sucker me in.

 

Meanwhile I’m tearing myself up because I can’t say it back.  I physically can’t do it because to me, admitting that I love him is giving him the green flag to go ahead and use me….

 

Which is the fucking sadest, most pitiful thing I ever hope to type.

 

Part of me is so fucking terrified that he’s going to leave and I’m going to be on my own again and I just can’t even cope with the idea.  I can’t cope with the idea of having this and then it disappearing.  I feel like that would be it and there’s no way in the world a relationship can survive under that pressure.  I don’t want to cling but I feel like this is the only fucking glimpse of any light that I’ve seen in the darkness for such a long time.

 

I am so goddamn broken.

Advertisements

I don’t understand

Am I going crazy?

I feel like I’ve known you forever.  All I want to do is scream at you ‘I have been waiting here’ because that’s how it feels.  I know we’ve been talking for a week, I know that we met for a weekend, I know that you’ve known me before but I don’t remember you (because I’m a twat)…

 

But I don’t trust myself.

 

I’m scared that I feel this way as some sort of reaction to my loneliness.  I’m scared that I feel this way because I want to believe it can be true.

 

I feel like I know you and yet I know that I can’t possibly.

 

We are both so fucking damaged.  We have both been hurt so much by other people.

 

You’re saying all the right things in the right order and I want to run away and hide because I feel like you don’t mean them.  I keep thinking that every time you see how happy you make me you’re ticking a box in your head because you’re a stage further in some sort of master plan.

 

I’m scared that you haven’t processed your damage yet and in six months time you’re going to wake up and decide that now you need space.  And I will be on my own again but so much worse.  Or that you’ll wake up and see that I’m ugly, that I’m needy and fat and have a head that feels like it’s going to explode because of All the Things.  Or I will have mothered you to death without meaning to.

 

I want to tell you that I’ve been sent to help heal you because you’re as weird and screwed up as I am and you might get that.

 

But all these things is like showing my throat.  All these thoughts make me vulnerable and I don’t do that anymore.  Not if I can help it.  Who tells someone these things if they’re scared that they’re going to be used?  It’s like walking into a car showroom and telling the salesman how much you’ve always wanted one of these cars and you’ve just won the lottery.

 

I’m used to being the one who runs off in her head and thinks about how things might be if it works out in the future.  I’m used to having to play the game where you act cool and calm and feel like you’re not bothered if you meet up with that person again or not.
I’m not used to being wanted or wanted so intensely.  I’m not used to this intense ANYTHING.

 

Everyone keeps telling me that I just need to calm down, relax and enjoy things… but my mind is half terrified half overjoyed and I’m flying around between the two.  I don’t want to screw this up because I’m trying to be too cautious and I don’t want to make things burn out because I’ve thrown myself into the fire too quickly.

 

You know more than me and I don’t want to look like an idiot.

 

I feel like wanting to do everything right is going to make everything go wrong.  I was such a fucking uptight teenager.  I didn’t experiment, I didn’t try anything.  I had one boyfriend for less than a month (I think) when I was 13 and then pretty much a relationship drought until I got to my ex.  [So glad that I have never just known one guy… I’ve learnt a lot]

 

I don’t to burden you with my hang ups but how can I explain to you why I am the way that I am without doing it or making it seem like I’m just being difficult?

 

I’m just so fucking sick of hurting.

I’m scared

So last night/this morning I woke myself up because I was having a full on night terror involving me screaming and thrashing around in the bed.  The working theory is that this is good.  The unworking theory is that this is me almost being possessed by evil spirits so we’ll see how it goes tonight -_-

 

I’ve spent the whole day walking round feeling like I’ve been kicked in the solar plexus all night.  I don’t know what that’s about either.
What I do know is that I’m hiding from my job and everything to do with it.  I’m trying to make myself hold out until the other side of some days off I have booked but we’ll see -_-  I just want to go to the Drs and get signed off…

 

WHICH REMINDS ME!

 

The good old NHS is definitely trying to finish me off!  See series of events:

June – Initial going to Dr, Dr suggests doing referral to therapy

June.2 – Do three referrals, each wanting me to go into exquisite detail about how I wanted to kill myself, what my plans were etc.  Their response: KTHNX we will contact you in a month for your phone assessment

July – A month on.  Asked to go through everything on the phone AGAIN, in detail AGAIN.  Left in a state, told to phone Samaritans because it will take 3 weeks for me to be seen

July.2 – Letter sent with everything I had said (including most of the horrible detail) sent out in the post to my house.  Again confirming it will take 3 weeks to be seen by anyone

2017-07-28 15.43.36-1.jpg

 

Gee thanks NHS.  This is really what I needed to read, unexpectedly on the way out the door while I’m trying to get on with my fucking life that you seem determined to remind me that I want to fucking end.

 

As is the theme of recent days… I GOT FUCKING PISSED OFF ABOUT IT

 

 

Especially because someone I know’s friend killed herself.  She was trying to get help.  The help never came.  Are we surprised?  I get so fucking angry.  It’s like.. if you just want us all to die and decrease the burden on the population then at least do what the Roman state did and give us the means to go out with dignity.  Otherwise, if you want people to live then HELP THEM.

 

Ranting aside…

 

Guy problems.  Because I am 100% a 16 year old girl and not someone who should be married with 5 kids already.

 

I apparently literally cannot handle being complimented.  My brain freezes up.  So I’m currently stuck in this world of ‘WTF do I do?!’ and ‘he is totally lying.  He is manipulating you’.  I get the impression he’s been like me… stuck with a lot of affection to give someone and not having an outlet for it.  The issue is that to me, my inner voice is processing it as being insincere and overwhelming.

 

I think what is most terrifying me is because I feel a genuine connection to this person.  We technically spent the weekend amongst friends and chatting and socialising etc so even though we’re going on a Date it’s still not like the internet where we’ve not met at all before.  I’m scared that this connection I feel is just my intense loneliness coming at me from another angle.  I feel like I’m trying to trick myself out of feeling miserable.  I just don’t want to end up in another shitty relationship but then the only way you find that out is to give it a go.

 

Oh and there is the usual of me being too fat and ugly to qualify being worthy of love… which I keep being told is untrue but I don’t feel that on the inside.

 

 

 

Twirling, twirling towards freedom

So I’ve ended up using ‘leave out all the rest’ like a sound bath and just kept listening to the damn thing over and over to try and get it out of my head… and it hasn’t worked.  I’ve just been crying a lot.

Don’t be afraid
I’ve taken my beating
I’ve shared what I’ve made
I’m strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I’ve never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you’re asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I’ve done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed
Don’t resent me
And when you’re feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Forgetting all the hurt inside
You’ve learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come
And save me from myself
I can’t be who you are

My mind is flying around all over the place.  I’ve spent most of the day crying.  Most of driving home crying.  I feel like if one piece of things could be going well then maybe it might help me crawl away from the abyss.

 

Counsellor suggested going on meds when I went on Friday but I’m terrified.  I don’t want another problem and I’m scared of getting addicted to tablets.  I’m scared of feeling better, even just for a minute and then that all melting away and I’m in the same situation as before.  Counselor says that maybe I need the space to try and help out the part of me that is trying to be productive and unbroken.. I don’t know.

 

I’m feeling so bad again.  I shouldn’t be thinking about how fast and efficient the train is and how it would be pretty instant if I did throw myself under it when I’m coming back the day after my birthday.  I shouldn’t be fantasizing about driving into the crash barrier on the motorway at 90mph.  The reason I haven’t done these things is because I’d want as few people to be dragged into my leaving the world as possible.  I don’t want the guy who has to hose me off the front of the train to have this pain and crap that I feel.  I know that once I’m dead I’ll be devoid of any kind of feeling at all, good and bad… but at the moment that fucking nothingness looks like heaven.  As much as I believe in an after life a nice black void of oblivion would be ace thanks very much.

 

Part of what I’ve discussed with her is my rampant need for perfectionism and to be doing better than everyone else… even though I’m not.  She asked me where I thought it comes from and I really don’t know.  My mom is pushy, I know that much.  I can remember being sad that I got a low grade in DT at secondary school and her badgering me into going to the teacher and asking what I could do to improve because that’s what she did.  I did and I wanted the ground to swallow me up.  Never again.

 

Part of my issues is this job driving me slowly up the wall (the crumbling, badly painted wall that has damp…).  She has suggested considering leaving and downgrading to a job that pays less and immediately my perfectionist sensibilities flare up in horror.  No.  I have to be doing better than my friends.  I have to not be dependent on anyone.  I have to be doing better.  It’s so stupid but it’s how I feel.

 

I keep saying that I want to find a guy who earns more than me, mainly because of the fact my ex was a financial drain… however when anyone buys anything for me I can’t cope with it.  When I did date a guy who earnt a shitload more than me I didn’t know how to react.  Suddenly I was definitely inferior, now I was the one who might be seen as the leech.  Grin feels suddenly horrendously uncomfortable.

 

Then suddenly… random guy I kissed on Saturday asks me out.  This does not happen to me.  This makes me suspicious.  This makes the voice in my head that tells me all the negative shit how he is obviously just after my resources and doesn’t like me as a person. I am too fat to be in a relationship.  I am too needy.  I will destroy this and blow it out of proportion.  I will end up in a shitty relationship again.

 

And then as soon as I’m done thinking that I’m crying because I feel so fucking alone.

 

Don’t be afraid
I’ve taken my beating
I’ve shared what I’ve made
I’m strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I’ve never been perfect
But neither have you

 

I survived **sticker**

Don’t be afraid
I’ve taken my beating
I’ve shared what I’ve made
I’m strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I’ve never been perfect
But neither have you

 

 

So I cried at midnight on my landmark birthday… which, when you consider trying to explain why to someone from an Amazonian tribe just is the most ridiculous thing.

‘You see these numbers… they mean I am now a year older according to a timescale we invented and I am now a number that means I should have achieved a number of things that I haven’t.  This makes me sad’

 

I hid in my room.

 

After sleeping I woke up to open my cards to find out that 30 is obviously the age when you no longer qualify for a birthday card as a niece.  Courtesy of my birthday being on a Wednesday I also hadn’t seen the majority of my friends.

 

I spent the day trying to be civil but failing.  On the journey home I literally lost the power to speak.  I was tired and socialised out.

 

Friday was… shit.

 

I cancelled the Drs appointment which was basically for him to check that I was still alive.  I had about 8 things to juggle (including going away for the weekend) and couldn’t be bothered with it.

 

As a penance I decided to go through my phone assessment for my ‘self-referral’ for CBT.  This is a month after my original ‘incident’.  The phone assessment was the same thing that I have now grown used to… namely me being asked my a stranger to describe my risk of suicide, how I was planning on doing it etc etc etc.  I was then told that I qualified for CBT and I would be contacted in a month for my first session.

 

So this is the situation… to get CBT I will be approximately about 2 months away from me actually putting my head over the parapet to ask for help.  In order to get the help I have probably spoken to at least four strangers, in detail, about wanting to die, not coping and how I would exit this world.  The only thing I have actually been offered by the NHS straight away was diazepan.  I was not told that this is valium.  I have not accepted their offer.

 

With all of this and still feeling the absolute hurt of the hell of Chester Bennington killing himself (I can’t even look at pictures of him, it’s like my heart has been ripped out) I made a new record of bursting into tears as soon as I got into my counselor’s office.  I don’t think I even made it to the sofa.

 

I said I was trying to find a new job, trying to do the best that I can but it’s a constant fight.  I feel like half of me is trying to keep motivated and keep pushing at me while the rest of me just wants to lie on the floor.  Part of me wants to stay on that floor.  It wants to say ‘I can’t fucking do this anymore, you pick up this mess now’  I know it’s stupid and it’s immature and it’s not productive.  Burning up the life I’ve tried to build just to get back at my parents but it’s so fucking tempting.

 

During my unhappy and discontent childhood my mom leant on me heavily as a result of my dad driving away most people she knew with his mental health issues.  She told me a lot of her problems that I shouldn’t have known ranging from money troubles to the fact she wanted to throw in her job.  I know the theory and the fact that this was because she literally had no one else… the issue is that it’s all reminding me of how I used to feel.  Like she was leaching the strength out of my body.

 

My counselor suggested I went back to the Drs and took the drugs.

 

Instead I went camping for the weekend, drank a shitload of rum… kissed a guy I didn’t know and ended up doing a thing (not with him) that I feel like I’m going to regret in the future.

 

Drunken Grin is the herald of chaos.  Definitely a maenad.

 

Looking down the barrel of a week at work and all I want to do is hide in someone’s arms.  I just want to bury my face into a chest that is rock solid, breathe in that guy scent, feel some strong arms round me and then grabbing my wrists.  That is what I want.  That is what feels like is best in life at the moment.

 

 

Glass case of emotion

 

Friday was a bit… full on.  To say that I’m an introvert who is very good at pretending not to be an introvert it’s kind of no surprise to me that I essentially hid in the house yesterday and went out once only to buy cake.

 

Working from home… was basically me looking at the screen and realising that I need to get a new job.  There is nothing that I can physically change to make this job improve.  This means admitting defeat and means admitting that the great big gamble that I took leaving my corporate environment didn’t work out.  This is not something that I’m good at doing.  I do however think that at least if I could get my job sorted and work closer to home that it would make a big difference on where I am psychologically.

 

I went from the living hell of the corporate job straight into a full on job where all the pressure was on me.  I ended up crying all the way home on Friday and when I spoke to my mom about it she said I was ‘stressed out’.. my response was how could I be stressed when the whole thing was that I wasn’t doing enough work because the work isn’t there ‘how can you not hear how that is stressful?’

 

Went to counselling… talked about the work thing and my birthday coming up.  I said I feel like I should have things sorted now….  I know all the theory… I know that realistically turning the age I will be has no cosmic impact, I don’t level up with some sort of lightshow or anything like that, this is all IN MY HEAD.  This doesn’t seem to convince my head though.

 

I’m still overweight, I’m in a job that isn’t working and I am so so so single -_-  It’s not even about having kids.. I mean god if I wanted kids I’d be even more suicidal than I am now.

 

Literally went from crying at counselling to a leaving do for someone I used to work with in my corporate job.  This was full on Grin mastery.  I fixed my make up, stuffed down my emotions and then sashayed into that restaurant full of life and joy.  ‘Oh I’m fine!  Yes the job is brilliant, totally working out and so much better than X!’  ‘Me?  No there’s no one on the scene at the moment but it’s fine!’

 

It is not fine.

 

It also definitely isn’t fine when I drink ¬_¬  Still, I managed to get through the evening and only cried when I got back into the house, totally remembering the Catwoman from Tim Burton’s Batman.  ‘Honey I’m home… oh that’s right I don’t have a husband’.

 

So yes, full on self pity mode activated.

I did it though… I did the social thing and got away with it.

Something’s gotta give

Harlow's Monkey

 

So only two or so days ago I wasn’t feeling too bad.  Tuesday I even went to the gym.  I thought… ‘oh I don’t know what the hell I’m going to even talk about at my counselling appointment’…

 

Oh my sweet summer child.

 

Wednesday… I was just uncomfortable in my skin all day.  I was stuck in the office and people kept coming in to talk to me about my upcoming birthday because they worked out it’s a milestone one… which is, I guess, one of my triggers at the moment.  It’s one of those milestones where I look at my best friends’ family life… married, 3 kids, husband and wife who adore each other.  It makes me want to rip my heart out and disintegrate it so I don’t have to feel the fact that I so so so don’t have that.  I feel fucking lightyears away from it.  Not that I want kids, THANK GOD I don’t have the biological clock thing going on in my head as well…

 

I remember when I turned 21.. it was less about feeling more that I had things ‘sorted’ and more that I was going to mature.  Like I’d turn 21 and then all of a sudden like wine and have a mortgage… and sure enough looking back on that I do drink wine and have a mortgage.  I wasn’t even with my ex then though I’d met him… this is the guy I was with for around 7 years, the one that I thought I would end up with forever.

 

It’s the dumb stuff that you miss.  The sex.. I mean yeah sex is awesome and it’s not like I’ve been a nun since things finished with him but it’s not what I miss the most.  I miss snuggling, I miss the dumb intimate jokes that you have with a partner, I miss treating them to stuff I know they’ll like… I miss planning things with someone else.  I miss the dumb, thoughtless touching.  The constant touching… or at least that’s how it seems in hindsight.

 

A very fluffy robe, wrapped tightly around can feel 5% like a hug when there are no hugs.

 

I did my degree in Psych (oh the blessed irony…) and I remember a study about baby monkeys and comfort.  There was a ‘mom’ made out of wire and one made out of fake fur and even when the fake fur one didn’t provide food or anything else they still clung to it… because of the touch.

 

Humans are animals, humans need touch as much as anything else does… and yet we don’t.  The last time anyone hugged me for more than the 5 second courtesy hug you get from a vague friend was my mom… and I think that was about a month ago.  This isn’t right.

 

Where are the hugging hookers?  That’s what I want to know.

 

So I’m rambling now… but fuck it.  In any event, Wednesday left me feeling shitty and I just came home from work and slumped in front of the TV and then went and shot people in the head on the computer.

 

Today…  I think it’s just been a big neon sign about needing a new job.  There are a number of issues with this that are all bound up in the fact I don’t like admitting defeat and that I HAVE to try and exceed/meet my insanely high standards for myself.  My current job was supposed to be the path to the promised land… it was getting me out of what seemed like a dead end job.  It was going to be the Great Change that would cause me to lose the weight I’d put on, change me psychologically, help me move forward.

 

It did the exact opposite.

 

You hear a lot of one sided shit from employers about how they hired employees off the basis of an interview and the candidate turned out to be rubbish or all mouth and no trousers.  Guess what, it works both ways!  I was sold a job that wasn’t capable of working.  The business is too small for my targets so no matter how much I flog myself to death I feel like I’m not getting anywhere.

 

After getting up at 6.30 and fighting my way through shitty, frustrating traffic I got to work late.  Sat down at my desk in the office I’m currently alone in as everyone is on holiday.  I felt paralysed.  Every phone call I was trying to make was like a war in my mind over the futility of it vs me trying to justify my existence.  Every minute of it felt like it was draining my life energy out of my body.

 

I don’t want to ring up my mentor and confess to the fact that I think I need to go because in my mind I know that he will blame me.  This will be my fault for not following The Process.

 

I came home and ate a load of shitty food and drank a load of cola that I’m supposed to be avoiding.

 

I’m so fucking lonely.  I just want to be held.