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Thursday, November 10, 2011

post session mess

My head is reeling. My heart is pounding. I want to cry and throw up and disappear. I can't handle all this at once. This is why I don't open up. Why I build my walls too tall for anyone to care to climb. It hurts to remember. It hurts to talk. This is my biggest fear. The flood gates opening and me without a boat. That gate has sprung a leak....and I can't even handle that.

I told my therapist. About the abusive boyfriend, alcoholic/abusive parents....about being attacked at college "part one." It's like reliving it all over again. Telling him about the latter....was excruciating...I was instantly nauseous....the whole time I had my keys in my hoodie pocket wishing they were sharper. I didn't even tell him about the abuse when I was little.

I can't handle this emotional overload....he asked me not to cut....I don't think I can honor that. I have to be functional tomorrow...at least more functional than I am now. I'm trapped in my head. Memories flooding my senses.....terror, pain, fear.........my daughter kept trying to talk to me and I completely space out. I don't even hear her. Which just adds fuel to the fire for the asshole voice in my head.

I'm not strong enough.

"It's hard to see the pain behind the mask...

...Bearing the burden of the secret storm."

-Martina McBride

Yesterday was exhausting. Today isn't much better. I have this knot in my stomach. I'm so anxious I'm nauseous. I feel like something is sitting on my chest. I am so lonely and yet I think I would recoil at the slightest touch. I don't feel worthy. I hate myself.

I skipped class last night. My daughter's been sick. So I stayed home to take care of her. Not that I felt like going. Being around those people....too many eyes. Too much potential for judgement. Not that I haven't said to myself anything they could possibly be thinking.

I got up this morning and took the kiddo to school. Then came home and crawled back into bed. I lack all motivation to do anything. I can't eat....I can't even sleep. I lay in bed and space out. Stare at the ceiling. That voice takes over. Beats me when I'm down.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

"I walk a lonely road, The only one I have ever known...

...Don't know where it goes, but it's home to me and I walk alone"

--Green Day

I'm sitting here waiting for class to start. I am my usual 45 minutes early. I hate being late. It makes me panic. I get to sit here in silence with no expectations before everyone gets here. It should be peaceful, but my head is not my friend right now.

I am still waiting on my paycheck and haven't paid all of last months bills because of this. Panic inducing. My teacher commented on my "out of it"-ness in response to my Practicum journal for last week. Panic inducing. I have to visit the new practicum site tomorrow. Panic inducing. I don't know where said site is located exactly. Terror inducing. I will be meeting people I don't know...surrounded by them....all day tomorrow....My worst nightmare!

My head if racing with "what if's". What if they don't like me? What if I get lost? What if I make a fool of myself? What if...what if....what if....

Also...that asshole voice is basically confirming all of these thoughts..."They won't like you. You're a freak. You're a mess. They will see right through you. You are a fat slob. Why would anyone like you. You don't even like yourself. You're an idiot. You'll get lost and be late and they will hate you for it. They will think you don't care about the clinic. They will think you don't have your priorities straight. You will fail."

I spent most of the day in bed. My daughter was home sick and slept alot. I had to take her to her father's house so that I could come to school. Sadly, I can't say that I dislike leaving her with him. It gives me room to breathe....or attempt to. And of course to that thought the voice says "You're a shitty mother: pawning her off on someone else. You're so selfish."

I. Am. So. Tired!

My whole body feels as though burning electricity is coursing through it.

Monday, November 7, 2011

"Everything inside of my head, It all just goes to show how...

...Nothing I know changes me at all
Again I waited for this to change instead"

-Blink 182

So it's been a while. Not sure how long. Didn't stop to look before pressing that glorious "new post" button. It's been too long, I know.

Things have cycled through, much as I expected. The summer's nervous break/constant panic attack has bottomed out and with it my self-esteem, self-worth, and desire to wake up in the morning.

I'm seeing another therapist. I had to quit/was not given any other feasible option my job at the pre-school. Still kind of pissed about that one...not sure if I shared, so in brief:

After keeping us in limbo as to whether or not we'd even have a job by the end of the summer (it all started in January), they decided to shut down my center and offer me a job they knew I wouldn't be able to take because of the hours conflict with my school schedule. Someone told me that they just did that so they wouldn't have to pay unemployment when I had to turn down the position....I'm just bitter enough to agree.

So...with the loss of job....so went the insurance....and the therapist. Funny how that works, huh. I paid out of pocket for about a month....until I couldn't afford it anymore. $100/hour....that's almost my rent! Ridiculous. So...now I'm seeing someone new for free.

It's really a strange arrangement....he's the husband of the director of my grad program. He's also a graduate from that program and I had him in a couple of classes. We didn't really know each other well, but we had some conversations. It's a bit awkward...and I know it's only awkward because I make it so, but still.....

Anyhow, he wants me to journal. He doesn't understand the cutting thing. It freaks him out, quite frankly, which strikes me as both amusing (in an ironic sort of way) and also pretty fucking hopeless.

I am supposed to journal before and after incidents. It's weird...because I lose a chunk of time before. Which is really scary for this control freak. I suppose that means it serves it's purpose, right? I feel like shit....and then I don't. My brain blocks it out.

I wish that were it. I've been losing lots of time lately. I'm spacing out more and more. It happens when I get depressed like this. I get numb....space out....embrace the nothingness...get caught up in that asshole voice in my head....and I can't quite shake it right now. It's always there....looking to kick me when I screw up....and kick harder when I'm down.

I wish I could go back to the anxious part of this cycle. The decent to the bottom sucks.

Monday, August 8, 2011

...To be or not to be...

I came on here...wanting a distraction....my thoughts are not my friend...then again....I don't have many friends...and as it would seem that is by choice....not entirely a conscious one....but somehow a choice, never the less.

I want so badly to spill my guts. Put everything out there....tell someone how I really feel right now....but then I couldn't take it back. So I bottle it inside. Letting it eat at me. Torment me. Taunt me. Always there...just waiting to pounce on me in moments of weakness.

I know I'm stronger than this....I have been through so much in my short life. Abuse, rape, neglect...I have been beaten with belts, burnt by cigarettes, nearly drowned, shook, slapped around, humiliated, locked in a closet...and that was all before the age of 10.....I lived...through all of that and more....I survived....

I should be proud. But I feel nothing but shame.

Maybe its a matter of control. Maybe knowing what I have survived some part of my psyche feels that I deserve to choose. I don't know. I don't know why I think the way I do. Why I hate myself so suddenly....no, that's wrong....it's not sudden....it's always there...I can usually fight it off...deny it....

I am alone in this. Was faced with that fact today. There isn't one single person I feel I can tell what I'm thinking...what I'm feeling, without fear of judgement or consequence. I'm exhausted...and want nothing more than sleep, but somehow that eludes me.

A friend...the only one I have... the only person I have been able to talk to....said she thinks I just haven't gotten sick and tired enough of being sick and tired....but I am....She says my actions (going to school, working, functioning...) aren't congruent with what I am feeling...she doesn't understand that surviving....staying under the radar....trying not to make waves....being inconspicuous...that's how I was raised....how I survived childhood. I have a lot of practice at smiling through....pain....tears....reality...memory.... Kind of a morbid "fake it til you make it"....I have yet to make it....and I have no idea how to even explain this to her. Feigning functionality....it's habit....not reality....not mine....

Tuesday, July 26, 2011


Who am I?

I think this is a question everyone, either consciously or subconsciously asks themselves. How many have answers? How did they get those answers? Where was I the day those answers were taught??

My therapist said something to me this week that is resonating in my head.....bouncing around, taunting...."I don't think you will be able to be happy until you know who you are....until you have a sense of self."

What do you even say to a statement like that??

I attempted to reply. I mentioned being a student, a future therapist. She stopped me. Apparently there is a difference between an identity and a self.

I. am. confused.

It seems to me that the two words are interchangeable. Are they not? How I identify myself.....wouldn't that be both my identity and sense of self? A man is not an island. It would seem to me how a person sees himself or herself has a lot to do with who they are, or what function they have, to others and their perceptions of whether or not that function gives them pleasure or pain.

Now that being said. I understand that maybe there is some dissonance with parts of myself because not every identity....not every part of my life is perfect....and I'm a control freak;a perfectionist...self-admitted. Isn't there some part in everyone's life that they aren't happy with?

I am thinking that the real deficiency I have is in how I manage that dissonance....not that I have no sense of self, but that my sense of self is distorted by having gone through trauma....going through painful, violent, degrading, demoralizing trauma. That I know who I am....and at the core...I do. But that my ability to see that self as good....as being worthy.....is constantly being overshadowed by ghosts of my past telling me and showing me that I am not good.....I am not worthy....causing me to doubt....myself....god....life...everything. To say I have trust issues is an understatement. How can I possibly trust others, if I cannot trust myself? But...I trust in others more than I trust myself, which is probably why I am still functioning even though I am in pain.

I am a good mother.
I love....with all my heart...
I am a good listener
I am kind
I am generous

I try to be, and mostly succeed at embodying all the things I find value in, all the characteristics that want to be.....it's the times that I slip....the times that I fail to be a good mother, be a good listener, be kind, be generous.....it's those times, that my psyche beats the hell out of me. Drags me down. Mentally.....physically....psychologically....

And I can rationalize....use DBT worksheets.....see the irrationality of what my psyche is telling me....but it is a constant battle between head and heart....and....

I. Am. Tired.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Theme Song

So the guy I am "dating" is still acting odd. I think the reality of my life, my complicated, busy life finally hit him after two months of dating....and apparently he's not the great guy I thought he was.

We had an argument last weekend over whether he told me we would leave Friday to see his friends rather than Saturday like we'd originally talked about. Honestly, my plate has been so full, if he did tell me that, it didn't register. He convinced me that me meeting his parents wasn't as big of a deal as I thought it was. I realized I was putting pressure on myself to fit him into my life, and apologized for freaking out (more panicked really...) He texted me the next day that we aren't to the point of meeting parents yet and he needed to think about how he feels about our disagreement. Fair enough. Didn't hear from him for a couple days...

We texted back and forth Friday night for a while. Then nothing until I texted him today and asked if he had a safe trip. He was visiting his parents. I was supposed to go with him, but I got stressed out about the end of semester crap and wasn't able to leave when he wanted to (Friday night), so I didn't go.

I went and saw my therapist today and told her that I felt like he just wasn't that into me, which made me angry because he should at least be a man about it, especially after I let him meet my kid, which I'd told him was a big deal to me. I had a good cry....the first one in a long time, not to mention in front of someone else...I decided that if I didn't hear from him by tonight I would text him telling him I'd really like to see him soon. He said okay we'd figure something out (schedules). And I told him if he didn't really want to see me could he at least let me know so that I could get some sense of closure. ---no reply.

I figure I will give him a couple of days to figure it out, but then I will call and let him know that I'm taking the lack of communication to mean he's not that into me and that I'm considering him uninterested.

I don't anticipate contact from him. It's a shame too....I really thought he was mature enough to handle a relationship. And I was starting to let my guard down. Hell, I was actually think about sleeping with him, which given my 5 year abstinence (by choice), says a lot in and of itself. Oh well. He just added to my list of "what I'm not looking for in a guy" qualities. Helped me set the bar a little higher.

So given all that, my theme song of the night is Turning Tables by Adele.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

"... if you can't handle me at my worst, then you don't deserve me at my best..." Marilyn Monroe

Yes, I know....the quote is a bit cliche, even for me....but it captures exactly how I feel right now.

I don't even know where to start...

I'm angry. I'm hurt.

Dating....men....the whole "trying to find someone" thing....


....it's become some big game, that somehow I never learned the rules to.

It's so infuriating that you can date someone for a while....think you're getting to know them....trust them more and more....let them in.....let down your guard....see them.....really see them, flaws and all....and accept them....but when they see just one part of you they don't like, they bolt.

Why do we (women) settle?

The double standard of the dating game really pisses me off....that after a month of dating he can break wind or scratch his balls in public, and we're supposed to just be like "guys will be guys"....(as if it's remotely attractive)...we're not to give it a second thought....we just accept it...

.....that he can spend hours on end talking about his fantasy baseball team and how disappointed he is in so-in-so's performance, or how he needs to trade this guy for that for whatever reason ... and we listen intently....(we aren't remotely interested, but just enjoy being with him)

...and then....we share with him our most vulnerable self....stressed out-near tears- just in need of someone listening ...or perhaps just a shoulder to cry on-- we're dismissed......we're just being emotional.....we must be PMSing....we're over-reacting.....reality is too much for him to handle....(we should have been clued in to this fact with his fantasy obsession)....

How is it we (women) are supposed to accept him (men)...every ball-scratching, belching in public, sports is life, wind-breaking part-- without question(!).....but we aren't allowed the same in return?

We aren't allowed to be human: If we're angry we're a bitch. If we're sad, we're PMSing....if we break under the stress of trying to fulfill our roles as mother, daughter, wife, sister, employee, student, etc...etc...we must be crazy....or at the very least be labeled as "bad".

Why is it that men just get to "be"...and we have to "be"...conditionally?

Constantly critiqued, judged, and monitored for the slightest defect....

Monday, July 11, 2011

“It takes half the amount of time you dated someone to get over them.”--Sex in the City quote

So, I started dating a guy the first week in May. After a almost 5 year hiatus from dating, sex, and intimacy of any kind, I decided to take a chance on a guy that one of the gals in my masters program knew. Everything seemed to be going well. We talk openly and honestly about everything. He's met my daughter and she really likes him. (This is the first man I have introduced her to since we left her father....about 5 years ago...). He has a job, his parents are married, he makes me laugh, and I feel good when I spend time with him.

....and I think I may have scared him away. I have been so stressed out about all this end of semester stuff for school. I haven't been sleeping well, because I can't get my mind to stop making lists of everything still needing to be completed. I have no free time. I hadn't seem this guy in almost two weeks because of my schedule, his, and the fact that he had strep throat.

So I practically begged him to come over last night. He was hesitant because he knows I have been stressing over getting some homework done. I told him I was getting burnt out and needed a break. So he came over. It would have been great until he mentioned our plans for the weekend. He told me he wanted to leave Friday to go meet his parents instead of Saturday like I thought we had agreed to. He wants to go hang out with friends Friday in his hometown. This pushed my buttons. Being as stressed out about finding time to do it all I was planning on using Friday to get some work done so I could enjoy time with him. I shared as much with him. He said he had told me two weeks ago he wanted to leave on Friday. I told him I don't remember that being said....we didn't yell or fight exactly....but we definitely disagreed. I thought it was a quite mature disagreement. We didn't low-blow, or say mean things. It was an adult disagreement. Apparently, he didn't take it so well.

So today he texts me that maybe we aren't to the point in our relationship where meeting parents is a good idea. WTF?!? REALLY? This after he told me last night that the whole meeting parents thing isn't really that big of a deal to him (as in it doesn't mean anything) so I shouldn't stress.

So I have planned on spending my one Saturday off all month with him, and now he doesn't think I should go with him. He says this isn't his way of saying we shouldn't date, or whatever, but that's kind of the way it feels. Not to mention, every child-free weekend I have for the next month, he's out of town doing something.

I pretty disappointed. Kind of hurt. Definitely upset.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

"Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet."--Unknown

I am stressed.

School is kicking my ass, and it seems that it isn't going to get any better. I am doing my practicum (think clinical hours for those of you who just went, "wait, WTF is that?").

For my practicum I have to get 4 videos of me working with clients and 100 hours of direct and indirect client contact. I'm doing alright at hours. I may come up short, but not for lack of trying....and I've given up stressing over that...because...well, I'm doing everything in my control at this point. I finally got 2 videos of me working one-on-one with clients and I am supposed to show one to the class. Okay...cool, right?? NOT SO MUCH.

When I started the program they told us we had to buy a video camera to capture these videos as well as recording various other skill building exercises for review. There were two cameras recommended: a cheaper and a more expensive one. I went with the more expensive one, viewing it as an investment in my education.

So back to showing the videos....so we are supposed to show one to the class. Well, that would be all well and good, if the audio equipment in the classrooms wasn't completely jacked up! The feedback between the camera, which plugs in to the USB on the computer and the connection to the computer and the audio equipment buzzes so loud you can barely hear the video. Even I can figure the problem out and I'm by no means an AV nerd!!!

Now the teacher is telling us, with less than 4 class periods left in the semester, that "if" our video cannot be heard we have to fully transcribe the whole session! W-T-F?!?!?!? First of all, the videos play just fine on my computer. So did someone else's video that didn't fair so well last class on the crappy classroom equipment. So how is that her/my fault? Fully transcribing a session is a MAJOR undertaking. Could we not have figured out this was going to be a problem, be proactive, and give the students a little more notice? Fix the problem instead of passing the buck, as if the audio issue is the fault of the student and they therefore should have to work their asses off even more??

No.....I'm not just stressed.....I'm PISSED!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

“Worry is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained.” Arthur Somer

Another mind draining night of class. I usually enjoy classes...this one was nearly 5 hours of research methods....trying to concentrate, understand, apply statistical concepts to hypothetical research proposals.....not my cup of tea. I would rather scoop my eyes out with a spork than become a researcher. Guess a doctoral program is out of the question for my future. Oh well.

I feel so numb. I waited too long. Now I'm stuck. Going through the motions. Overloaded with emotions to the point of deadness. I tried. I tried to wait it out. I wasn't strong enough.

On a positive note, I slept well.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

"Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again" --Tori Amos

I'm back....

Yeah, I'm still fucked up. Still having a mad love affair with self-loathing and self destruction...

Sadly that is my only sense of security at the moment...maybe that's why I'm back.

I'll give you the short of it...things are pretty fucked up, which I'm sure you guessed...

My job...still doing the pre-school teacher gig. The insurance is great. The co-workers are great. The job security...well...not so secure. The powers that be decided to screw with us all, not renewing the lease on our humble abode last summer and not looking for a new one until the first of this year, leaving us all wondering whether or not to find new employment....for THE PAST SIX MONTHS! At first it was, "oh, don't worry, we'll take care of everyone" now it's "well, maybe we will"....now it's "I think we can".....and our lease runs out in 34 days! So...yeah....I may be out of a job. FUN!

Started seeing a therapist again (just in time to be without insurance!!). Really liked her....then not so much...now....I really want to like her. She knows of the SI-ing. Didn't freak. Came up with a "game plan." We tried it....and.... let's just say Family Systems Therapy over a lunch break...not really a great idea. And now she wants to try DBT. So...I'm pretty sure I'm getting written off as Borderline....which...I suppose there are worse things...but I'm fairly sure I do not have BPD.

Considering I nearly had the first panic attack in years in her office because she was having me "look inside myself" and try to see the small child inside and ask her why she feels worthless, weak, used, sad, etc....the flashback literally took my breath away....I'm guessing PTSD or some form of that is a much closer approximation of what's going on "inside;" why I hurt myself, why I'm anxious all the time, why I don't trust....etc....etc....

School has been going great until this semester. I'm doing my practicum....or at least I'm trying. I have to have 100 hours of indirect and direct client contact hours and it's not happening. I also am supposed to have 4 videos of me working with a client in a session...which of course isn't happening because the hours aren't happening. It's just one giant circular cluster fuck, to be honest....and I'm pay for it...literally, and with what little sanity I have left.

So here I am. I'm back. Sitting here. Feeling at the end of my rope. Haven't slept more than two hours at a time in the past four days. My eye twitching from stress. Electric anxiety coursing through my body. Words escaping me. My mind screaming for disassociation and taking me there against my will. So terribly urgy that I am holding my security. Shredding paper into tiny pieces. Wish to be the paper. Trying to deny the urge. But knowing that I won't win tonight.....but at least I will sleep.