conversations.
Monday, March 30, 2009
a typical conversation that goes on in my head on a daily basis...
Me: you know that no one believes you anymore. no one really thinks that you are going to kill yourself. they all think that you are just crying wolf, trying to get attention. you know that everyone thinks you should just 'snap out of it' and stop fucking around, that you should just take the fucking medication and be done with all of this. you are an attention whore and a drag on everyone's pity strings. no one wants to even think about you, let alone worry about you, which they are not.
Self: i know. but it's going to really be a shocker for them when they wake up one morning and i've gone and done it. they probably won't care, they'll probably think, "jesus, what took her so long" and "good riddance to bad rubbish".
you know i have every intention of going through with it. i just need to get my ducks in a row, as it were... i can't just leave the animals. and damn them, every time i get close, they wind up pulling me back. i sometimes wish i didn't love them so much or that they didn't need me so much.
Me: i'm sure sandra feels that way sometimes. wishes that you didn't need her so much.
Self: i know.
Me: it's coming, you know. i can feel it. it's getting closer. i'm just so much of a worthless piece of garbage. no one is ever going to want me. no one wants me around. it should be so easy. and the plans. i have a million of them, but only about 3 of them are viable and certain. i don't want to risk waking up in a hospital bed somewhere with tubes coming out of me. when i do it, it has to be final, the end.
Self: i know.
Me: no one believes you, you know. no one. they all think that you are just trying to get attention, but no one is giving you any. you say the same old tired things in your blog, over and over and over again. no one is listening. no one cares. you just have to get strong enough. you have to get the animals taken care of. it will be incredibly painful, and leaving them with someone will be so so hard, but then it can be over. you know that. and you know it's what you want. it's the only thing you want. unless they come up with a way to make you instantly thin or have some kind of face transplant so that you are not so ugly, you know it's the only way out, it's the right thing to do.
Self: but i'm scared.
Me: i know.
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nothing.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
i have nothing to say. nothing new that is.
same stuff, different day. and it drones on and on without end.
i got a card from my friend jo today, and it felt like she was writing to a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. it was a nice card. full of love. she said that she is looking forward to seeing me at festival, but i fear that when i get there, when i see her, i will only be a shell of who she remembers me to be.
i kind of don’t even know if i want to go to festival at all. i’m terrified, actually. seeing people who i haven’t seen in two years. living up to their expectations of me. having to be “on” so no one sees the real me, the black, dark, dead me. i’m so used to throwing on that automatic personality, it’s like a costume. i wear it every day at work. i laugh, i smile, i joke, i make like a happy little worker bee. i’m not truly successful at it, but it is automatic, i don’t have to think about it. when i stop and think, i can feel the darkness creep over me. i can feel the aloneness like a chill that emanates from deep inside myself. the tears come, i have to fight them off. i can’t let myself go there during the day, it is too hard to recover from. during the times when i could not recover, i had to make excuses and go home, or cry in the bathroom and then try to get a hold of myself and hope that no one noticed the red rimmed eyes or bright red nose.
at festival, i will have to have the costume on all the time. i know that i will spend as much time as i can, alone in my tent, crying, trying not to be heard. i am dreading it.
sandra was supposed to call me today at lunch. she was supposed to call at 1, but she didn’t wind up calling till almost 1:30. she doesn’t understand how little things like that throw me. how, while i was waiting for her to call, the aloneness, the sadness, the cold spread from the pit of my stomach out to my fingers and toes. all i could do when she finally did call was cry. it all just hurts so much, i can’t explain it.
today, on post secret, there was a postcard that felt like it came from me. i felt understood by whoever sent it. i’ve been trying to explain to sandra, and my mother, and other people, why i don’t want to take medication. this pretty much sums it up...
i posted this one a few months ago... it’s like someone is sending in my exact thoughts.
i wish i could meet these people. then i would feel so much less alone.
i don’t know. i just don’t know...
darkness.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
i spend much of my time in darkness. inner darkness and outer darkness. everything is colored by the darkness inside of me. everything is touched by it. most things are absorbed by it. i don’t really know how to explain it, but i will do my best.
the darkness inside of me has been there for a long time. since i was about 16 years old. it could have been there longer, but the time i really remember realizing it was when i was in high school. it didn’t start out as the blackness that it has become. it started out as a dulling of color in my world. a graying out of things. a hazy curtain that dropped slowly between myself and the rest of the world. my first serious bout of depression. i was sixteen years old, i had just been sent back to boarding school for my second year there. i was a junior in high school, but i should have been a senior that year. i was held back a year when i was sent away. i don’t think it would have been that big of a deal, but one of my roommates that year was a girl named kim, who i had gone to high school with before being sent away. we were in the same grade, or we should have been in the same grade. i don’t know how she wound up at the same boarding school in colorado springs, but she was there, and she was my roommate, and she was a senior. she was a pretty girl, and her being there made things really hard for me. it was like my old life and my new life were colliding and i couldn’t deal with it. i slipped into depression almost without noticing it. there were other more complicated reasons for the depression, but kim was the impetus. i wound up trying to kill myself that year, and was sent home for a month. it wasn’t a serious attempt, but it was. i mean, i didn’t cut myself very deeply, but i don’t really think i knew what i was doing, otherwise i would have been successful.
regardless, i got sent home and that’s when the darkness enveloped me.
there were many things that happened during the month that i was home. i was treated like an outcast. my parents were furious with me. they sent me to my brother’s shrink, dr. white, who tried to drug me. when i refused to take the drugs, he was an ass to me and threatened me that if i didn’t behave the way he wanted me to behave, he wouldn’t let me go back to school. i think he realized that i would be more trouble than he wanted to deal with, because with only one session left before i was supposed to go back, i put on an oscar worthy act and smiled and told him what he wanted to hear, and he let me go back. many years later, after my brother jumped to his death off of dr. white’s building, the man was indicted for molesting boys at the california youth authority, but i digress.
the darkness was managed by medication for a while, and then kevin died, and the darkness took over again. and again, i became suicidal and was hospitalized. i lived in the darkness for a long time. self medicating with food and drugs. and then again, anti-depressant medication. a strict, almost fanatic controlling of what i ate (causing me to lose a ton of weight and keep it off for a good chunk of time), and falling in love with julie sent the darkness away. it stayed gone for five years, and then julie left me, and i was plunged back into it. i have to say that this time, the darkness was the darkest, and the despair and hopelessness at it’s most intense. and i have been there for almost six years now. there were brief periods of hope when i was seeing nomi, but then she dumped me and i haven’t been able to escape from the darkest depths of myself since then. i have been deeply suicidal for so long now. i know that i will eventually kill myself. and it might not be for a while, but i am certain that when i die, it will be at my own hand and not because of accident or natural causes.
i am holding on right now. holding on to sandra, and holding on to java, expo, nicky, and pj. but i am holding on in absolute darkness.
and everything that touches me. everything that i hear see and do is absorbed by the darkness. for example, monday, i was having a pretty good day at work. all of my consultations were going pretty well and customers were pretty ok, not too mean or whiny. and then my manager called me into the office to tell me about a horrible survey i got from a customer, saying that i was a horrible technician and a rude person and the worst person at the genius bar and they wished that they could have seen someone else, but they got stuck with me.
and suddenly, the whole day was destroyed. any good feelings i had earlier were gone. completely absorbed by the darkness, and all i could think about was what that customer had said and what a horrible person i was and how i was the worst technician on the team. any time i have any good feelings or any peace, the darkness eats it. and the darkness is always there to remind me of what a failure i am. it is always there so i don’t forget every single horrible or embarrassing experience that has ever happened to me in my entire life. it is there to tell me that i am a worthless piece of shit, and that no one wants me and that no one wants to hear from me.
and at the same time, it is like a security blanket. keeping me safe inside of myself. telling me that this is almost over and that soon there will be nothing. it is there, protecting me. i don’t know how to explain how it protects me, but it does. it is there to remind me that all i have to do is just be brave enough, just be strong enough and i can make it all end. i am trying to be brave and strong. i am trying to get to a place where i can make it be over, where i can close my eyes for the last time and never have to think about the darkness again.
a week later.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
i went back to the urologist today, presumably to discuss my test results. i had no idea i was in for more testing. more humiliation.
only to find that there is nothing wrong with me.
this was my biggest fear. that they would find nothing wrong, that i would just have to deal with the incontinence and pain.
the doctor gave me some pills that are supposed to help, and told me not to eat chocolate, caffeine, citrus fruit, foods high in potassium, foods high in acid, pistachios, spicy foods, rye bread or sour dough bread, apples, aged cheese, alcohol, tomatoes, artificial sweeteners, mexican food, and carbonated beverages.
great. so now i have to live with incontinence and i can’t eat anything that i like to eat.
i told myself that if there was nothing wrong, if i was just going to have to live with it, then i wasn’t going to stick around. i already have nothing to live for. this just makes it so much worse.
i really have to think hard about how i’m going to make sure the animals are taken care of. i can’t just leave them.
also, i had a horrible session with sandra today. she told me that she didn’t think she could help me unless i could “meet her half way” and talk to her and tell her things. the problem is, i don’t know what i can tell her. i feel paralyzed when i am in her office. i can’t talk, sometimes i can’t even move. i feel like the words get frozen in my throat and i can’t get them out. i feel so trapped behind the walls inside my head. i can’t get out and i can’t let her in. and if she can’t help me, then i will have to quit therapy, and that’s a death sentence. if i don’t have sandra, then i don’t have anyone and i’m going to die.
she says that she’s not going to leave and that she wants me to stay, but i don’t know, i just feel like i have pushed her too much. i have pushed her away and now it seems, i have pushed her up against a wall, and i’m going to lose her just like i’ve lost everyone else.