My sister's opinions bother me. She talked about how sad it was to see people so into their money and art and don't they have anything better in their life? Where are their kids? Fuck you! Seriously. Fuck you. Some people can only buy their happiness. I mean, tho could be my future. I didn't choose it. Talk to your god about it. You look at my photo frames--empty--and tell me you will send me pictures of your kids to fill them. Fuck you. You say people only have 1 or 2 kids and just don't build their family. Where is your damn mind? Your thoughts are assuming pieces of shit. Do you not know that you have been lucky to place your priorities where they are? Come on. Think. For Christ's sake I'm your sister...I am that person you are judging. This is what I fucking have to be proud of.
I have this darkness in me...its always been there. And some would say I need religion to cure it. But I don't. I just need this pen...this paper. And I store it here. And it hushes for a while. At least I get more from this that I ever did from god.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Journal Post 6
Every time I get into a funk I can't wait for it to be over. Its like everything is lackluster and worthless. If I'm worthless then how anything matter to me? Its like trying to do rocket science--I don't know how, I'm too ignorant.
Today I wanted to be non-existent. Again, this never has to do with dying, I'm not interested in dying. Its just the closest thing to what I want which is to have never existed in the first place. I offend myself by being here, always a self imposed let down.
I ate way too much today. Still down 28 lbs.
Today I wanted to be non-existent. Again, this never has to do with dying, I'm not interested in dying. Its just the closest thing to what I want which is to have never existed in the first place. I offend myself by being here, always a self imposed let down.
I ate way too much today. Still down 28 lbs.
Journal Post 5
I've done well lately to distract myself from my...whatever. I've lost 26 lbs working on another 10. I am eating only raw vegetables and fruit. I work out 5 times a week, always cardio, sometimes weight training too. I've pushed harder at work and believe I will be promoted.
A friend of mine is worried I obsess over my situation too much. Which I know is true. I don't think I could face tomorrow if I wasn't though. I've got to think and push and do. Unfortunately, this will mean sadness, tears and pain. But I can't fail before I try. I have to try. If I fail, I will assess that. I still feel that I wouldn't want anything to do with myself if I fail.
I'm not angry with god. Even in he is there. I just don't think he is worth my time. God won't make me better or worse. And I'm not going to save my last dance. I'm not going to think of reasons about my after life to make me feel optimistic. What difference does it make if everyone else gets mansions, 17 virgins, their own projected happiness, and I don't? It changes nothing for me. I don't think I could ever go back to being a believer. I'd be believing in the Easter Bunny, for someone else's sake. And I just don't care.
Most of what I do is so that I can feel like I am someone worth being with.
Its amazing to me that I can just cry and cry. If I even slightly remember how sad I've been, WHAM, there it is. The ELEPHANT in the room. Everything is terrible. Sleep, tomorrow, food, goals. Awful. Its why tomorrow I will not eat.
A friend of mine is worried I obsess over my situation too much. Which I know is true. I don't think I could face tomorrow if I wasn't though. I've got to think and push and do. Unfortunately, this will mean sadness, tears and pain. But I can't fail before I try. I have to try. If I fail, I will assess that. I still feel that I wouldn't want anything to do with myself if I fail.
I'm not angry with god. Even in he is there. I just don't think he is worth my time. God won't make me better or worse. And I'm not going to save my last dance. I'm not going to think of reasons about my after life to make me feel optimistic. What difference does it make if everyone else gets mansions, 17 virgins, their own projected happiness, and I don't? It changes nothing for me. I don't think I could ever go back to being a believer. I'd be believing in the Easter Bunny, for someone else's sake. And I just don't care.
Most of what I do is so that I can feel like I am someone worth being with.
Its amazing to me that I can just cry and cry. If I even slightly remember how sad I've been, WHAM, there it is. The ELEPHANT in the room. Everything is terrible. Sleep, tomorrow, food, goals. Awful. Its why tomorrow I will not eat.
Telling
I have written the letter that I will give to my husband to read about my sexual abuse as a teen. I have edited it. I have asked him when would be a good time to have him read something important and at first he said in about a month and then felt worried and wanted to read it sooner. He said he has a feeling he knows what it is about. Anyway, for me it feels like the cat is almost out of the bag.
I did not expect to feel so scared to do this. I am afraid that he will not want me anymore, or treat me differently. I am afraid I will hurt him with this. Or I am afraid that he will react in a way that makes me distrust him.
What is strange is I KNOW I was molested on several occasions but I still fall into a pattern of thinking "its not a big deal" or "I could have prevented it". I read up on sexual abuse and my symptoms keep leaping out at me. I hate that I have harbored so much shame and guilt for so long. I hate that I confused molestation with every doctor I went to and felt molested there. I hate that all my anger, confusion, and depression was treated with pills instead of counseling. I hate that I never trusted anyone to tell them and no one ever asked. I hate that it is only now that I am realizing that what happened was not okay, and that I shouldn't feel the way I do.
I am afraid that I will tell him all this and he will not want me anymore. That he didn't sign up for this. That he will be mad at me the way I was afraid my parents would have been.
I did not expect to feel so scared to do this. I am afraid that he will not want me anymore, or treat me differently. I am afraid I will hurt him with this. Or I am afraid that he will react in a way that makes me distrust him.
What is strange is I KNOW I was molested on several occasions but I still fall into a pattern of thinking "its not a big deal" or "I could have prevented it". I read up on sexual abuse and my symptoms keep leaping out at me. I hate that I have harbored so much shame and guilt for so long. I hate that I confused molestation with every doctor I went to and felt molested there. I hate that all my anger, confusion, and depression was treated with pills instead of counseling. I hate that I never trusted anyone to tell them and no one ever asked. I hate that it is only now that I am realizing that what happened was not okay, and that I shouldn't feel the way I do.
I am afraid that I will tell him all this and he will not want me anymore. That he didn't sign up for this. That he will be mad at me the way I was afraid my parents would have been.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Journal Entry 4 (ending 2009)
I am scared to go to the doctor--I don't know where to start. I am scared that though I have ovaries, my eggs will be useless or non-existent.
I feel like a failure to my husband. I find myself hoping that I accidentally die somehow to spare him an empty future. He's still young and can find happiness with someone who can make him a father. I should have never let him marry me. I wasn't meant for anything in this world. Just a mistake, a natural disaster.
While visiting family at Christmas I cried myself to sleep twice. One at my sister's and once at my mom's. It was just so hard because I awoke to a baby crying. I wanted to wake to a baby instead of to depression.
I am pretty sure my depression has become pretty bad. I don't have much faith in tomorrow but understand it is my responsibility to move forward. I don't want to kill myself, I just wish I was never born in the first place.
When I think of the future all I can imagine at this point is sadness. I can't even imagine a child anymore--it seems so fairytale. I read about these other women with MRKH and they are doing everything to have a baby. Shelling out cash and taking out loans--and they are failing. I can't handle the thought of losing my future again and again. I can't be told I can't do it. I think that would be my total downfall. I would lose all hope. I don't know how I would learn to cope with that. I would ask my husband to leave me. I would hope he would. I don't know if I could ever be happy, I would have to distract myself with traveling or drinking or start doing something reckless.
I obsess over money. I worry I will take out a loan to have a baby and fail and then the monthly bills will come reminding me that I have to pay for my failures.
I guess my state of mind is despair. I don't see tat happiness is an option.
I feel like a failure to my husband. I find myself hoping that I accidentally die somehow to spare him an empty future. He's still young and can find happiness with someone who can make him a father. I should have never let him marry me. I wasn't meant for anything in this world. Just a mistake, a natural disaster.
While visiting family at Christmas I cried myself to sleep twice. One at my sister's and once at my mom's. It was just so hard because I awoke to a baby crying. I wanted to wake to a baby instead of to depression.
I am pretty sure my depression has become pretty bad. I don't have much faith in tomorrow but understand it is my responsibility to move forward. I don't want to kill myself, I just wish I was never born in the first place.
When I think of the future all I can imagine at this point is sadness. I can't even imagine a child anymore--it seems so fairytale. I read about these other women with MRKH and they are doing everything to have a baby. Shelling out cash and taking out loans--and they are failing. I can't handle the thought of losing my future again and again. I can't be told I can't do it. I think that would be my total downfall. I would lose all hope. I don't know how I would learn to cope with that. I would ask my husband to leave me. I would hope he would. I don't know if I could ever be happy, I would have to distract myself with traveling or drinking or start doing something reckless.
I obsess over money. I worry I will take out a loan to have a baby and fail and then the monthly bills will come reminding me that I have to pay for my failures.
I guess my state of mind is despair. I don't see tat happiness is an option.
Journal Entry 3
I am so beside myself with grief. So much has been compacting me deeper into lifelessness. I feel like I will keep fighting forever and never be happy. I feel useless and angry. I want to be beaten. I want to be hit by a car or crash into a tree, to get away from all my worries and fears and failures. I want to make my last mistake and never be remembered.
I waited 20 minutes before driving home today just so I wouldn't do anything stupid. Then I put my makeup back on to cover the tears and ended up smearing snot all over my face. I have such a dreadful feeling inside, I want to dig it out. I want to feel the pain of my heart being sliced away from my poisoned body. I honestly hate who I am. I hate me. I want to stop having panic attacks. Why do I even fight for my breath? Why breathe so deeply?
Its all a scary dream, or scary movie and you just want the terror to end. I can do that, I can be my hero and end this monster.
But I don't want to be anyone else's monster. I scare me enough--I have to protect those who care for me so they never know the terror.
I waited 20 minutes before driving home today just so I wouldn't do anything stupid. Then I put my makeup back on to cover the tears and ended up smearing snot all over my face. I have such a dreadful feeling inside, I want to dig it out. I want to feel the pain of my heart being sliced away from my poisoned body. I honestly hate who I am. I hate me. I want to stop having panic attacks. Why do I even fight for my breath? Why breathe so deeply?
Its all a scary dream, or scary movie and you just want the terror to end. I can do that, I can be my hero and end this monster.
But I don't want to be anyone else's monster. I scare me enough--I have to protect those who care for me so they never know the terror.
Journal Entry 2
What we don't know is will it work? Well, I don't know. Should I get on with my life? Should I decide this now, that my life will be forever empty? Fill it with books and art and selfish endeavors? Never becoming who I wanted to be all along? I might as well want to change my age, my race, my height. I am who I am, whole or not. So much weighs on tomorrow and now it seems like yesterday. There's no time. There's no money. I feel so weak.
I don't think about killing myself but I sometimes wish something bad would happen to me. Something that would take me out, that would relieve all the doubts, pressure and my worries would be simpler or gone. I drive often without a seatbelt.
I know the fault in thinking that way. I thought about talking to a counselor but I know what they would say. They would say I am a real woman, whole and worthwhile. They would say I need to not bear all this burden alone. But is is my burden! And who can lift it? Who can solve this puzzle? Who can give me what I need? No, this is my burden. I must carry it. If it weighs 2 tons, it doesn't go away with more backs to lift it. Its still there, it will never go away. I will just learn to accept what I didn't understand all those years ago and what I am coming to understand its full implications. This is not a birth defect. This is not a syndrome. This is not infertility or a challenge. This is a new reality based on something much like worries--except for the expectation that something can be done. Is that fear? Defeat? Doom?
My mind tells me to run away, move far away from everyone and live alone like you are destined. See things that no one else will ever see and let that be your quest, your purpose. Why push so hard to fit in this round hole when you are square. Be square.
I don't think about killing myself but I sometimes wish something bad would happen to me. Something that would take me out, that would relieve all the doubts, pressure and my worries would be simpler or gone. I drive often without a seatbelt.
I know the fault in thinking that way. I thought about talking to a counselor but I know what they would say. They would say I am a real woman, whole and worthwhile. They would say I need to not bear all this burden alone. But is is my burden! And who can lift it? Who can solve this puzzle? Who can give me what I need? No, this is my burden. I must carry it. If it weighs 2 tons, it doesn't go away with more backs to lift it. Its still there, it will never go away. I will just learn to accept what I didn't understand all those years ago and what I am coming to understand its full implications. This is not a birth defect. This is not a syndrome. This is not infertility or a challenge. This is a new reality based on something much like worries--except for the expectation that something can be done. Is that fear? Defeat? Doom?
My mind tells me to run away, move far away from everyone and live alone like you are destined. See things that no one else will ever see and let that be your quest, your purpose. Why push so hard to fit in this round hole when you are square. Be square.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)