ALL the thoughts

So since my last update the guy that I launched myself upon at the weekend actually asked me out.  So I said yes.  Now we have ALL THE THOUGHTS.

Namely:

  • You are too ugly/fat/emotional to deserve a relationship
  • He’s going to go on a few dates with you and then work out how awful you are
  • He is a liar and just wants to use you

 

I have my own issues around this… especially relating to a lot of bullying I had when I was a teenager which was basically sexual harassment.  There’s also the fact that my ex did totally just use me for what I had in the end and lied to me for a couple of years… it’s not without precedent.

 

There’s also the thing of he has mental health issues as well and I’ve generally been horribly bias about this when looking at people’s profiles which I know is awful.  I just had the feeling that my stuff was probably bad enough and my tendency to mother people to death wouldn’t help if someone had their own problems.

 

That said, I got taught that everyone has mental health problems.  It’s a reason that I hide from anyone who says they’re a ‘normal guy’ looking for a ‘normal’ girl O_O  Yeah…  I think Bill Bailey said that when he asks who the ‘weirdos’ are in a crowd the people that respond positively are generally the most normal people going

 

So I’m trying to not think all the things and instead pretend that I have not had these horrible experiences and to see how it goes.  Chatting online is fun… but I can’t take the compliments.  It’s like my body doesn’t know how to react and the little goblin in my brain is looking at lots of controls going ‘HOW DO WE RESPOND TO THIS?!?’  Thankfully because it’s online I’m not sat in front of said person slackjawed.

 

Trying to be back on board with the diet… but I’m having to take things one day at a time -_-

 

Work… isn’t great.  Today I had a two hour appointment with the advisor who referred them basically sat watching me like a hawk.  Even though I had a lie in I ended up having to sleep for three hours because I couldn’t keep my eyes open.  This isn’t normal ¬_¬  I keep thinking for a moment that it’s my iron or there’s something wrong with me but I guess 80 blood tests can’t be wrong.

 

Applying for other jobs but I admit I’m probably just doing the scattergun approach rather than the bespoke, handcrafted arse kissery that employers seem to want nowadays.  Gods forbid anything should be wrong with my application to their advert that has been reposted 18 times and has spelling mistakes in it!

 

How can I still feel so damn tired after having a 3 hour sleep?!

 

There are also 2 guys that I’m speaking to online thanks to the dating site that I’m too cheap to delete my profile from.  One has suggested going somewhere but only taking one car because of parking… so now I’m trying to work out how to say ‘sorry but I need to take my own transport in case you murder me and bury me in a field’ in a way that doesn’t sound like that…

 

Oh and I had my first abuse message thanks to a dating site as well!  So achievement unlocked there.  Thanks for confirming the gut feeling that told me not to go for a drink with 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.

 

 

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.

Blackbirds

When in my white room at the Charité
I woke towards morning
And heard the blackbird, I understood
Better. Already for some time
I had lost all fear of death. For nothing
Can be wrong with me if I myself
Am nothing. Now
I managed to enjoy
The song of every blackbird after me too.
– Bertolt Brecht

 

So I was randomly driving back from an appointment listening to Radio 4 and that poem pops out of the radio at me because of a program about blackbirds (yes, I know, it’s Radio 4 come on).  That one part stuck in my head and then I was on a mission to try and find out what it was and who had written it.

 

At the moment I feel like I’m in and around that poem.  While I’m currently feeling decidedly less suicidal and generally ‘average’ (usual utter self loathing is standard) I’m living with this fear that this will disappear and I’m going to go back down into that abyss again.  I feel like a child going through one of those indoor hamster style play areas and I’m going to make a turn at the next corner and go down a slide I wasn’t expecting.

 

I’ve managed a few appointments and thanks to being face to face it’s extra draining on my batteries.  Doesn’t help that I’m an introvert. Literally all weekend I was alternating between Netflix with crochet or gaming.  I made myself go out to the shop.  I did see some friends and was my usual jokey self.

 

I wonder how much of my joking/grinning/high functioning is to do what my counsellor said and it’s to try and look after people so they feel good and don’t be hurt by the fact I’m feeling so awful.

 

Every time I come out of counselling my mom wants an update on how it’s gone.  I’ve started to say that I can’t talk to her about it, mainly because a lot of it does involve her whether she likes it or not.  That and I’m still trying to understand how I feel about what we talked about.

 

I really, really wanted to try and get to the gym so I could stop beating myself up about not going to the gym.  Where the hell is the version of me that used to run 10k and walked everywhere and could stick to her low calorie days?

 

I tried telling myself that if I’d nearly died because I’d been hit by a car or had some physical thing wrong with me then I’d be giving myself time to just exist but this isn’t good enough for my inner monologue.  The fact I’m tired isn’t good enough, it’s an excuse.  The fact that I did nearly die (if I’d had the means I know for a fact I wouldn’t be here, I still don’t understand how everyone in America doesn’t just shoot themselves with all the guns everywhere) but due to emotional reasons doesn’t hold any weight here.

 

I just want someone to look after me.  I spent my entire teenage years and childhood having to try and look after my mom and survive my dad where best I could.  My ex tried… he wasn’t all bad despite the fact he’s now remembered by his last impressions.  But he couldn’t.  He earned less than me and then eventually didn’t earn anything at all.  I remember feeling paralyzed when I found out that I was now the breadwinner of our household at 23/24.  All I could think was that it was history repeating itself.  Despite my best attempts at promising myself that I would find a partner who had a boring, stable job I had ended up with a version of my dad.

 

So I had that pressure again of being the one to look after everything.  Know when his family’s birthdays were, buy presents for them for every occasion.  Being responsible for everything apart from the internet (which frequently got cut off when he didn’t pay the bill).

 

And that turned into him resenting me, hating me for it.

 

 

How is this in my head?

I am so so so so so tired.  Like I feel like I can’t even lift my arms up.

 

I worked from home today so got a lie in compared to normal.  I had a 3ish hour meeting and then drove back home.

 

All I can visualise in my head is the blood test results showing there is naff all that is physically wrong with me.  Therefore this is my brain doing this to me and I don’t understand how.  How can it be making me feel this tired on its own?  I feel like I’m in some sort of virtual reality headset where my body is sat there wanting to go the gym, ready to run and then my mind is just hiding that from me.

 

The lying about why I was off continues.  It still links back to the fact I don’t want people to think I can’t cope.  But I can’t cope I guess which is why I’m where I am.

 

I don’t think it’s possible for anyone in the world to hate me as much as I hate myself. Or at least I hope not.  There isn’t a single thing in the world that I don’t beat myself up for.

 

My counsellor told me on my first appointment is that depression is just anger turned inwards and I think it makes a lot of sense.  There are a lot of things that have happened to me in my life that I think I’ve never got to be angry about… either because I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late (ex cheating with someone I considered a friend etc) or I wasn’t allowed to express it (daddy issues).  I suppose some of it is that you get too fucking tired to be angry.  The idea of being angry feels exhausting.

 

I keep getting asked by medical people if my sleep is alright and I’ve been thinking about that because they keep saying it’s quality over quantity.  I went to sleep at 12 last night and woke up at 7/8.  That’s not bad timewise and if I wasn’t working I would have kept going but still… here I am.

 

I can’t imagine that if I’d taken the medication they wanted to give me that I’d feel any less energetic.  I suppose I’d be more.. numb but I don’t see how that would help with my energy.  Again, brain chemistry.

 

My desparate urge is to go and grab caffiene but diet cola is the devil and I’m trying to stay away from it.  Trying to eat more healthy things… emphasis being trying.  I can hear it’s sweet song of promises from the shop down the road so it’s a good job I’m so tired.
When I last went to see my counsellor she asked me when I felt like this all started… I feel like when I was 10..  This means that for about 1/3 of my life I’ve not been plagued by mental health issues (as far as I can remember)… this 1/3 being inclusive of time when I was a baby.  Part of me worries that I won’t recognise myself if I do get sorted.  Part of me feels like feeling like utter shit, feeling in a black abyss is part of who I am.  Does that even make sense?