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not for the faint of heart -- 2003-01-15 (warning: possible trigger) My anxiety started later this afternoon I think, I started crying and couldn't stop, I was gasping and hiccuping, wishing to cut my arms and legs, bang my head against the wall, something, anything to dull the pain, or make it more pronounced, or something. I want it to go away, this demon that won't leave me alone. Sometimes I wish I were dead, at least then I wouldn't be in as much debt as I am, living with my parents again, unable to find a job, freaking out about my future. And then I come to my senses. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm not going to hurt myself. I am not going to pick up that object in the bathroom and harm myself with it. As much as I want to, I am *not* going to do it. Because once I start, really start, I won't stop. I broke down and took a lorezepam, and now I'm in that stage were I feel a little numb. My face hurts from crying, my eyes are sore, and I'm tired. But I'm up late for privacy, my parents and brother are gone to bed, and I can write without having anyone come by. What is killing me? What is so bad that I thought of taking a blade to my arm? I just feel so desperate. So alone. And so very very sick of trying to be strong, when my sister is sick, when my Dad is anxious. No fucking kidding it runs in the family. I'm sick of being the strong one. I just want to be taken care of for awhile. But yesterday when I expressed my anxiety to my father, he actually turned away and walked down the stairs, calling out that he didn't want to hear about my problems, he had enough of his own. That certainly makes me feel like I can share my concerns with him. I was so mad and hurt! He does that when he doesn't have a solution to the problem, sure, but I didn't necessarily need a solution, I needed a hug, or sympathy, or "I understand how you feel". Not rejection of that sorts. I'm sick of things not working out for me. I'm sick of it! Stephen Covey ("7 Habits of Highly Successful People") says to make things happen in your life, but it seems like things *happen* to me! And I'm fucking sick of the crap that seems to plague me and my family. I'm sick of anxiety and depression everywhere I turn. It's so bad that I actually feel bad for feeling bad! Jesus. Tonight I started to cry, I couldn't hold it in any longer. Adam ate his snack and didn't say a word, Dad offered a few solutions, and then quickly made it downstairs, and Mom sat there and crocheted. No hugs. No "it will be okay" or "don't worry, we'll help you out", "we'll get through this". Nothing. While the tears streamed down my face. Rejection makes me want to cut. Or hit my head off something really hard. Stupid for thinking that they would make me feel better. Stupid bitch. So the therapist said to my sister "do you feel like you grew up in a supportive emotional environment?" Um, let me think a minute. NO!
Norway trip - 2004-07-08 |
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