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.