Tag Archives: worthless

Blergh… (ok, honestly, I dunno an adequate word for this feeling/sound… also **POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING – SH, SUI**

I had another session today. I have been feeling so crappy lately, I asked for some extra time after group yesterday…

It was productive (and long). We talked about what’s causing so much anxiety, and what I get stuck on. At one point, I mentioned some of the financial obligations causing stress. She asked if I wanted to take care of the most stressful one there, and she offered to take over the phone if it became too much for me to keep talking. My responsible side kept bugging me to say yes, but my scared little kid side couldn’t move. We talked a bit about that, then she talked me through the phone thing (literally starting with telling me to take my phone out and find the number). Before actually placing the call, I mentioned the correlation with making an arrangement with this company in particular, and a subsequent hospitalization (so far, it’s happened after every time, and I wasn’t sure if I only had the courage to call them in an effort to lessen anything L might have to take care of in my absence, or if calling them triggered a hard and fast spiral)… she said we’d make a plan after the call to get me through the weekend.

The call was uneventful as usual. The lady I spoke with on the phone was professional. An arrangement was made, and I hung up. Almost instantly, the berating voices started screaming in my head “I’m worthless. I’m a piece of shit. I should have my shit together. I’m a failure. Why can’t I amount to anything? What a waste of space!…” and many more unkind things. Tears started spilling from my eyes, and I managed to choke out that this is what always happens after calling them. About 30 different self-destruct plans flashed through my head. In an instant, I assessed each for viability. More tears flowing unchecked from my eyes. I don’t really remember what else was said, but I was able to communicate the self-hatred and hopelessness.

I guess I started demolishing my soda can because she asked if the pieces I was playing with were sharp enough to hurt myself with. I was a bit taken aback. I’d never consciously self-harm in front of anyone, let alone in her office (it’s a safe space… though I must admit she’s pointed it out to me in the past when I didn’t realize I was clawing my arms during session).  Anyway, we talked a bit more, and she started saying something about me not being bad, and being allowed to make mistakes and ask for leniency. I can’t remember exactly what the words were, but they triggered a flashback… I just cried on the couch and tried to become as small as possible. Part of me kept silently apologizing and begging her not to hate me or be mad at me. Another part of me tried to remind myself that she would not do what I was remembering at the moment, that she was not the person in my memory, and that she was safe. The two inner voices warred to drown each other out.

None of it was voiced till after she stopped taking and I had continued to silently cry for several seconds. I think I actually interrupted her to try to explain what had been going on in my head… I found safe-enough words with which to speak about it; saying how frustrating it was when seemingly innocuous/nice (and common) responses to emotional upheaval and intense self-hatred were such instant triggers… I’m not sure if she was angry or sad that things like that had become so twisted in my head (not angry or sad at me, but for having gone through situations that caused the perversion of those basic concepts), but at one point I think I saw her hands move to cover her face…

We wrapped up that conversation and moved on to a plan for the weekend. I rated my intent to “harm myself” upon leaving. I said a low number, and she was incredulous (that sounds more distrustful that she actually was… more like pleasantly shocked?). I clarified that I wasn’t going to off myself after leaving. She clarified by asking if I’d self-harm. That number was higher. We talked about that a bit, then she again said we’d make a plan for the weekend. I was expecting to have to come up with the standard “what are you doing when you go home today? How about tonight? Tomorrow? Sunday?”. Instead, she asked me to hold on while she checked on her weekend plans… :gulp!: I panicked for a half-second and asked if she truly was just calling her husband (she’s never hospitalized me without talking to me about it, but others have). She showed me her phone dialing out to her hubby. I tried telling her I’d be fine over the weekend; that I didn’t want to interrupt her time with him. She promised she wouldn’t schedule anything if it interrupted their time together. She also said that she had promised to be there for me if I was having a rough time, and this was her way of being there this weekend… a few phone calls later, and we are going to meet again tomorrow either at her office or at her home office (tbd)… I’m still trying to be ok with wasting so much of her time, but she insists it’s not wasting it…

The ride home was “interesting”… I had trouble paying attention to the drive. There were points of the drive where I struggled with myself to keep the car at a safe speed and away from stationary structures. The whole time I worried that if I did crash, even accidentally, she’d think I had lied to her when I rated my safety. I try to be as honest as possible with her about things like that; it’s what built and keeps the trust. I’m more likely to say nothing at all rather than lie about that… I’ve remained silent in response to the safety question before, and we arranged for me to go inpatient like that in the past. I need the trust to be there. I get so low sometimes, I need us both to know that I’ll be honest about my safety even at the lowest times so I’m not again in a revolving hospitalization cycle…

:/

Sorry, that was probably tmi…

I think I need a nap now… catch you on the flip side.

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depression and frustration

Woke up wanting to cry… that spot I was hoping to avoid is exactly where it feels like I’m headed. I’m resisting the desire to call out of work for today. I’m torn between thinking it would be good distraction, and fearing I will be too mired in my own shit to be competent at the job. Maybe if I we’re just in the back with the dogs, it wouldn’t matter, but I’m up front running the customer service today. It’s lonely up there, and there’s too much opportunity to think and feel…

I want to cut. I want to escape this overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling of worthlessness and hopelessness. Calling out today would put another notch in the “worthless & hopeless” column, but so would going in and fucking up with the customers… I feel like I can’t win.

The house is a mess. No matter how much I try to organize and clean, the entropy of the mess dictates that it will remain. A surface gets emptied only to be re-cluttered later on the day. I put things away so they are not talking up the little space we have, then they are too out-of-reach for L. I can’t win… I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I’m so tired of trying, only to have it return to its original state…

I just want to sleep (and maybe cry more).

This wasn’t a good time to stir up all this. It was threatening to break, but I kinda had it under wraps. It might have held out till next week or the week after. I might have made it through the end of December without falling apart. Fuck… I Fuck up everything I try. *This* is why I’m scared of trying a real career again. I can’t hang on for more than 6 months without a breakdown…


goodbyes are hard

I have trouble with the concept of feeling cared about. I don’t see why anyone would want to ever remember me unless I’m in their face & bugging them. To me, goodbyes feel like a death. Some people have proved that fear wrong, but I still fear it all the time. It’s a combination of not feeling real or worthy of being remembered, feeling really crappy about myself, and knowing I will miss the person’s company (probably a ton more than they will miss mine)… I guess you could say I don’t believe I could have object permanence with someone if I am not right there for them to be reminded of me. Most of my goodbyes involve a final severance. I suck at keeping in touch b/c I worry I annoy or frustrate the other person by trying to reach out to them. They probably get frustrated and think I don’t care, so they give up trying. In reality, I care a whole lot, but feel awkward reaching out…

I was told it’s natural to miss someone you have grown used to seeing, but I never manage to believe anyone should put effort into missing me.


can’t get a grip on these emotions

I know, you’re probably sick of reading from me… Skip if you want (nothing of worth anyway, just me documenting mostly for myself).

I can’t get a handle on my emotions this week. I’m flying from being ok when I saw TM yesterday, to crashing last night and not being able to pull out of it today. Everything seems hopeless and useless and pointless…

I want to call TM and say next week will be it. I’m not seeing a point to it right now, since I hope to be moving in just over a month. What can we possibly accomplish in that time? Why did I bother to trust her or work with her in the first place. I knew it would end fast. I guess I was hoping it would be easier if I tried to just push through things. It’s not. And now it just sucks. I’m not totally sure what triggered this crash, but I’m back to another transference reaction, similar to the one around De’s leaving (only this time I’m doing the leaving). I don’t think it helps that I feel like TM “gets” me. She responds to my not-always-spoken fears, and we seem to click. I want to take her with me when I go, but I know it’s not possible…

I’m back to really just wanting to hide forever. F-this. I’m cooked right now. And I’m being stubborn and I’m not going to call her tomorrow. She’s right, I need to get back to a place of not needing her. So…

At the same time, I want to go hide in her office and get through all this emotional b.s. I want her to tell me it’s ok to be a mess, and that it’s gonna suck, but eventually it will get better. And I want her to tell me I was stupid for thinking I’d be able to get through any significant progress around all this in 4 months… I want her to agree that I should have known better. And I want her to hate me, and do something so I can be mad at her so it’s easier to just walk away.

I want to run away so badly right now. I want to erase everything and just disappear…

I’m so done with this constant roller-coaster. I wish there was some magic that worked. I wish meds didn’t make things worse… I wish I could just blink into nothingness.


Feeling urgency

I’m not sure what it is. I’m trying to figure out the driving force behind this intense desire to see TM again and to try to talk about this again. It always kicks in. Once I open the door to starting to talk about anything vulnerable at all, I need to just be able to spill it. All of it. At one time.
I feel this desire to talk myself into exhaustion. It’s like all this stuff needs to come out of me and into… I don’t even know. Someone who can safely hold it? Someone who can throw it out? Someplace other than myself, but also someplace safe.
It’s not attachment related, because I have no attachment to TM at this point. (Actually, I think this need to divulge is stronger before I know the person… maybe. I’m not sure though, since I know this urgency is also there after I’ve grown to know and trust the therapist). Maybe it really is just related to a need to share this with another safe (neutral, non-judgemental, uninvested) human being, to not being alone with it all…

I find myself trying to think about history and diagnoses, and how this desire (though gods, does it ever feel like a need) fits into the puzzle. is it part of the ptsd, the bpd, the self esteem issues, the anxiety? What? Where does it fit? Is it legit to talk about and ask for? Is it just part of the human condition to need to be able to be completely honest with someone? I know there’s thoughts floating by that contradict one another right now. One questions if anyone would actually like me as a human being if they knew everything, every dark secret? Would I still be worthy of breath if they saw the real me? Another thought wonders if they may be more OK with the concept of me as a human being if they knew all the motivations and fears behind everything I think and do. One thought looks for validation while another thought is sure judgement will follow. Will I turn out to be the horrid person I’m afraid I am if you see everything that makes up “me”? Or will it give you a deeper understanding of all that appears to be random craziness and weirdness and awkwardness? Please don’t hate me, but please prove my fears right, and prove them wrong, and hate me, and…

There’s so much inner conflict around my self-worth. There’s all these years of that little voice saying I’m worthless and stupid, but it’s being countered by the voices of everyone who has tried to convince me I have value. It’s very loud and confusing. Sometimes one is winning, other times the other is. Right now, I think the voice that whispers “they will (should!) hate me if they knew everything” is the driving force behind the need for disclosure. I want validation that the voice is merely a fear, and not reality. And I need to find that validation. Right now, no one knows everything. No one has all the puzzle pieces with all the disconcerting revelations, so I’m not sure they wouldn’t hate me if they knew everything. But I’m also not sure I would believe they knew everything if they didn’t hate me (because how can you look at me, all my dark secrets and blackness and not hate me, not think I’m vile and disgusting and scary?)… I think I need people to prove I’m worth life, but I have a feeling I won’t believe them unless they say I’m worthless. It’s a wonderful little trap. “Please, please, please say I’m an OK human?” You’re an OK human being “Fuck you, you don’t really know me unless you hate me! (But gods, please know me and don’t hate me)”…


merry f*cking christmas

I woke up and checked my fb. Scrolling down, 2 of my friends had wished everyone a “merry christmas”… for a second I panicked: I thought I had lost more time (last I knew, it was only the 22nd). I backed my phone up to check the date. phew! ok, only the 23rd still…

then the panic came again. the holiday is almost here…

I hate it. I hate the thought of christmas and everywhere being closed and annoying music and so many reminders that I’m nowhere near where I want to be with my life. I’m spending the holiday without my wife (I miss her a lot). I can’t afford presents or entertainment or food I would like to eat that day… I don’t want to think about another year gone with mostly struggles to show for it. I have not learned responsibility yet. I haven’t learned how to move through all the baggage I can’t seem to put down. I can’t snap out of this depression vortex…

I want out. I’m tired. I don’t want to spend every day fighting tears or self-destructive thoughts. I don’t want to have to keep learning to trust someone just so that relationship can be lost in short order. I don’t want to remember the really shitty things I think I remember (the stories my brain attaches to the physical feelings that allows the emotional and physical memories to make sense, only they potentially shatter even the few shreds of happy memories from growing up)… I’m just done. I’m done begging for support and relief…

bed is calling. going to go hide under the blankets and blast music into my ears so I can forget this fucking stupid time of year and everything it shoves into my face… or maybe I’ll shower for the first time since seeing TL on Thursday, and head to the beach or the Everglades and forget what time of year it is (and going to stay off social media for a while)…


crying

woke up crying today. it’s lasted all day. crying at the slightest thing.

the depression is harming others now too. killed one of my snakes without meaning to. didn’t check on her enough. missed signs that something was wrong. found her dead today. she’s always been a difficult feeder (refused food for the first 9 months I had her. she’d also regularly miss 3 or 4 feedings in a row) so I didn’t really think too much of it that she refused food the last 2 times… should have realized something was wrong this time. hadn’t been weighing her, so didn’t notice she was losing weight… so I put out feelers to two people about possibly taking on most of the snakes and the rest of the lizards. they deserve better. and I hope that having only 4 will be easier than the (now) 9… 😦

if i still feel like this tomorrow, i will call TL and ask for another session this week (and hope I can hold it together for my trip coming up)…

supposed to get creative with the journal class teacher tomorrow. hoping I can at least fake it to get to her house and get some art time in. can fall apart again when I get home, but need to keep faking it for that. TL wants me to keep making plans and sticking to them. already let one friend down this weekend…

not sure why the depression hits so hard in the fall/winter lately. hate it. though maybe it always has and I just can’t remember… my memory is not the most reliable thing…