June 15, 2014
May 03, 2009
November 10, 2008
June 11, 2008
The skin I'm in.
It feels tight. Ill-fitting. Uncomfortable. Suffocating. I am so tired and yet I cannot sleep. My sleeping pills no longer work. My little brown pills have stopped being altogether effective at quelling the racing thoughts, or the voices in my head. It's exhausting to be this fucked up and not have a support structure.
Well, that's not entirely true. I do have support. I have a man in my life that loves me unconditionally and always does whatever he can to make my life easier, even at the cost of his own comfort. But I have no family support. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like I have a family. Which is, of course, partially my own doing. I walked out on them. But I've tried so hard to come back from that, come back around. My dad understood that, and appreciated the effort. My sisters won't ever let me forget (another entry or six will be required to explain the hypocritical nature of my siblings) that I walked away. But I had to. I truly _needed_ to. It's just sad that it's taken almost 15 years to find out why. To find out what's really wrong with me. To start to try to live my life armed with the knowledge of my disease and some tools to help me with it.
It's also sad because I'm a colossal coward and don't want to tell my mother what precisely is wrong with me. For one I doubt she'll believe me. For two, even if she did believe me, it would just be one more way that I've managed to screw up my life, and hers, and my dad's life, and the people around the corner and down the street and the guy that runs the Shopper's in Gander, et cetera.
How do you tell your mother that you're mentally ill to the point of disability? I don't even know where or how to begin. Of course, this is a family of secrets. My (now deceased) uncle is a prime example. So maybe I figure if she doesn't want me to know about that, why on earth would she want to know about this?
How do I stop caring, though? How do I stop looking for solace and support that can never come? How do I come to terms with the fact that I can't expect support for something that she doesn't know about? How do I tell her?
It's simple really. I don't tell her. I take the black sheep designation, I smile when appropriate, and I sit here inside my head screaming at the top of my lungs.
Well, that's not entirely true. I do have support. I have a man in my life that loves me unconditionally and always does whatever he can to make my life easier, even at the cost of his own comfort. But I have no family support. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like I have a family. Which is, of course, partially my own doing. I walked out on them. But I've tried so hard to come back from that, come back around. My dad understood that, and appreciated the effort. My sisters won't ever let me forget (another entry or six will be required to explain the hypocritical nature of my siblings) that I walked away. But I had to. I truly _needed_ to. It's just sad that it's taken almost 15 years to find out why. To find out what's really wrong with me. To start to try to live my life armed with the knowledge of my disease and some tools to help me with it.
It's also sad because I'm a colossal coward and don't want to tell my mother what precisely is wrong with me. For one I doubt she'll believe me. For two, even if she did believe me, it would just be one more way that I've managed to screw up my life, and hers, and my dad's life, and the people around the corner and down the street and the guy that runs the Shopper's in Gander, et cetera.
How do you tell your mother that you're mentally ill to the point of disability? I don't even know where or how to begin. Of course, this is a family of secrets. My (now deceased) uncle is a prime example. So maybe I figure if she doesn't want me to know about that, why on earth would she want to know about this?
How do I stop caring, though? How do I stop looking for solace and support that can never come? How do I come to terms with the fact that I can't expect support for something that she doesn't know about? How do I tell her?
It's simple really. I don't tell her. I take the black sheep designation, I smile when appropriate, and I sit here inside my head screaming at the top of my lungs.
May 24, 2008
TickTock
There's something really strange about nights like tonight, when the glow from the city is lighting up the sky and all the clouds are in stark relief. Makes everything seem creepier. Meh.
I'm finding myself at a crossroads in my life, again. My chosen line of work can no longer be my work. The last 12-odd years of my life have therefore been a colossal waste. It's sobering, and defeating, and obviously depressing. But crying changes nothing, right? Time passes.
September 15, 2007
who do you love?
I'm happiest with my cats. What does that say about me? Other than, of course, the fact that I have truly awesome cats.
I just watched the inaugural episode of Tell Me You Love Me. It was hard to watch. Mostly because it was so unflinching. I think that anyone in a relationship should watch this show. I truly do. (Insert graphic scenes of sexuality disclaimer)
Sometimes I feel that people just toss the phrase "I love you" out almost too frequently. Love is hard work. Love is painful. Love is eternally confusing. My first experience with the phrase was not, interestingly enough, from my own life. It was instead from an afternoon showing of Robotech on ASN. (3:30 every weekday. I'd just make it home in time.) It was Rick talking to that horrible Minmei. Why oh why wouldn't he open his eyes and see that it was Lisa he should be with? Anyway, that gave me the impression that love was something that caused boys to act foolish for stupid, vapid, self-centered girls.
Maybe the Macross universe isn't the best place to learn about love. But it is what it is.
I just watched the inaugural episode of Tell Me You Love Me. It was hard to watch. Mostly because it was so unflinching. I think that anyone in a relationship should watch this show. I truly do. (Insert graphic scenes of sexuality disclaimer)
Sometimes I feel that people just toss the phrase "I love you" out almost too frequently. Love is hard work. Love is painful. Love is eternally confusing. My first experience with the phrase was not, interestingly enough, from my own life. It was instead from an afternoon showing of Robotech on ASN. (3:30 every weekday. I'd just make it home in time.) It was Rick talking to that horrible Minmei. Why oh why wouldn't he open his eyes and see that it was Lisa he should be with? Anyway, that gave me the impression that love was something that caused boys to act foolish for stupid, vapid, self-centered girls.
Maybe the Macross universe isn't the best place to learn about love. But it is what it is.
September 13, 2007
yet another picture free post
So many times I sit here in my chemically altered state staring at this blank box thinking of all the things that I have to say but can't put into words. The chemicals are prescription, which makes the whole thing doubly frustrating. I CAN'T STOP TAKING THEM.
But they make me incoherent. Not that I was all that coherent to begin with.
I feel unloved today. I miss my father. I miss the mother I always wanted to have but never got.
But they make me incoherent. Not that I was all that coherent to begin with.
I feel unloved today. I miss my father. I miss the mother I always wanted to have but never got.
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