My arms are tired, my palms are sweaty and my feet keep slipping off the rungs. I'm losing grip of the ladder.
Now to confuse the hell out of myself, and possibly you too, I am sad because I can feel myself being dragged back into the nasty "depressive" state. Yet, I am proud of myself for feeling it before I hit rock bottom.
I'm scared because I really don't want to slip back but it's happening before my eyes and, perhaps, more so because I'm aware of it.
I really want to ask for help but I have reservations.
In the past when I haven't been totally incoherent and "sick" and have asked for help I was ignored. I wasn't "sick enough" to be seen, heard or helped. Would it be different now?
If nothing has changed all that will happen is my complete inability to hold onto the rungs. I will fall back into the pit of ugly, horrible despair. Loneliness and alienation will then follow.
So what's the plan to hopefully slow the rate at which I fall? Maybe even stop the final horrid descent altogether?
I need to be kind to myself. I can't make others be kind to me, that's just a stupid thought as I don't deserve that. But I can be kind to myself.
I can tell myself it's okay to slip, it's okay to find it hard to cope. I can tell myself it's okay that I'm not perfect. I can remind myself that it will take a long time for me to be able to deal with all of this without help.
I can talk myself down from the ledge and remind that part of me that I can get through it. Even when I feel so powerless and pathetically weak. I can tell myself that others do not understand so their comments are not always valid; most aren't trying to deliberately hurt me.
I will see my shrink of Friday afternoon, I just have to make it until then. I can fall apart when I walk into his room. I can admit to him that my seemingly random thought about being in hospital may have been an even earlier awareness of my possible descent.
To confuse everyone more, I am sad for writing this and yet I feel that I have made a big change in my attitude. I doubt many will see it, but I do and that's all the matters.
Just remember, it's about how you treat yourself not how others treat you.
Showing posts with label the strange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the strange. Show all posts
Stability In Question
It is not often I blog about something someone has said to me.
Okay, maybe it is. However, it has been a while since I have written any blog posts. There are many reasons for the lack of writing, although, the main one is a severe lack of original content. It's all well and good that I write constantly, but I don't wish to bore my readers by repeating the same issues and concerns, even if those issues and concerns repeat in my head.
I went away for a few days last week and found out some information I don't think I should have ever been told. Apart from this information causing me to have, yet another, breakdown it has perhaps fuelled an anger that I have been trying to quash for some time.
So what the hell did I find out?
An ex-boyfriend told a good friend of mine that he was concerned about her sons safety in my presence. For instance, if i should look after her son, would I be capable without being a danger to him?
There are many responses to this, especially from me. However, it has taken quite a few days for this comment to really sink in, grab hold and rip out my fragile stability.
Now, I am a nervous wreck in need of tenderness but unable to let anyone know just how much this comment hurt. I am partly afraid this comment may be true. There are many times I am sad and not coping and I don't think that would be healthy for a two year old to see.
While I would never, NEVER, hurt him I still do not think seeing someone emotionally collapse would be beneficial to his life.
So here I am, conflicted yet again. I am angry that this person should say such horrible things about me, when I have neither said anything mean nor negative regarding him. If anything I have put aside my immense anger at being used and remained supportive of him. Okay, so he perhaps didn't know that I was being supportive as I never spoke to him, however, I never said anything so cruel, mean and just disgusting like he has done. Instead, I shall vent on my website and thus equates the tit for tat. (Please note, the last sentence was sarcastic.)
Perhaps there is some small merit of payback by writing on here, however names are never mentioned and unless you know me and know my life you will never know whom I am speaking of. So where is the payback if no names are mentioned?
Anyway, here I am wondering if his hurtful words are indeed true and if they are, how will I ever allow myself to be around anyone, let alone a two year old, ever again?
To you this may be a stupid reaction and partly I agree with you, however, partly I do not, as I do not trust nor like myself enough to be able to reassure myself that I wouldn't ever hurt or subject a child to something they should never be subjected to.
It hurts me to know that someone else thinks so low of me that they feel like they should say something like this. It also hurts that I should find out, as silly as that sounds. If you think about it, had I not have known the comment was said I wouldn't be having this particular breakdown. Mind you, I would just find something else to be sad and worried about.
Have you ever had your stability ripped out from under you which has made you question everything?
Okay, maybe it is. However, it has been a while since I have written any blog posts. There are many reasons for the lack of writing, although, the main one is a severe lack of original content. It's all well and good that I write constantly, but I don't wish to bore my readers by repeating the same issues and concerns, even if those issues and concerns repeat in my head.
I went away for a few days last week and found out some information I don't think I should have ever been told. Apart from this information causing me to have, yet another, breakdown it has perhaps fuelled an anger that I have been trying to quash for some time.
So what the hell did I find out?
An ex-boyfriend told a good friend of mine that he was concerned about her sons safety in my presence. For instance, if i should look after her son, would I be capable without being a danger to him?
There are many responses to this, especially from me. However, it has taken quite a few days for this comment to really sink in, grab hold and rip out my fragile stability.
Now, I am a nervous wreck in need of tenderness but unable to let anyone know just how much this comment hurt. I am partly afraid this comment may be true. There are many times I am sad and not coping and I don't think that would be healthy for a two year old to see.
While I would never, NEVER, hurt him I still do not think seeing someone emotionally collapse would be beneficial to his life.
So here I am, conflicted yet again. I am angry that this person should say such horrible things about me, when I have neither said anything mean nor negative regarding him. If anything I have put aside my immense anger at being used and remained supportive of him. Okay, so he perhaps didn't know that I was being supportive as I never spoke to him, however, I never said anything so cruel, mean and just disgusting like he has done. Instead, I shall vent on my website and thus equates the tit for tat. (Please note, the last sentence was sarcastic.)
Perhaps there is some small merit of payback by writing on here, however names are never mentioned and unless you know me and know my life you will never know whom I am speaking of. So where is the payback if no names are mentioned?
Anyway, here I am wondering if his hurtful words are indeed true and if they are, how will I ever allow myself to be around anyone, let alone a two year old, ever again?
To you this may be a stupid reaction and partly I agree with you, however, partly I do not, as I do not trust nor like myself enough to be able to reassure myself that I wouldn't ever hurt or subject a child to something they should never be subjected to.
It hurts me to know that someone else thinks so low of me that they feel like they should say something like this. It also hurts that I should find out, as silly as that sounds. If you think about it, had I not have known the comment was said I wouldn't be having this particular breakdown. Mind you, I would just find something else to be sad and worried about.
Have you ever had your stability ripped out from under you which has made you question everything?
Pscyhobabble
Cast:
Renee - Patient in need of therapy
Dr Red* - Psychiatrist appointment to meet Renee and determine if her mental health case file should be reopened.
Setting:
Tuggeranong Mental Health.
Time:
2:30pm (1430), 24th February 2010.
Enter Renee and Dr Red
Dr Red suggests Renee should sit down in one of the chairs he offers. Renee is clearly uncomfortable especially when Dr Red tries to shake her hand. Her confusion comes across as agression with a look of complete distaste crossing her face.
Dr Red doesn't notice this silent emotional turmoil, instead he proceeds to sit down.
Dr Red then asks Renee a few questions. Renee's face doesn't show her anger towards this person and the system, instead she liberally applies her mask of "I am okay, I'm fine, I don't know what is wrong with you people".
The questions range from why Renee should be having the appointment, how many people in her immediate family, how does she get along with family members to feelings and emotions, goals and plans for the furture. All of Dr Red's questions are met with resistance and hostility. Renee was clearly frustrated having been through all these preliminary questions before.
Dr Red is clueless and has a difficult time trying to decide how best to treat this unique (and slightly scary) patient. He would very much like to ask her to leave, however, he can't do that due to his profession and his cultural background. He knows this and he also realises that Renee also knows this. He feels trapped.
Dr Red continues asking questions, this time he asks about Renee's thoughts to do with Tuggeranong Mental Health. Renee does not hold back.
Renee: I have no faith in the system.
I was told when I first came here, I wouldn't be forgotten.
I was told no one would give up on me.
I was also told that I could contact my case manager, my shrink and/or anyone else here.
No one has returned my calls, emails or sms for four months.
The last time I saw anyone was before I went to St. John of God in Sydney.
After the disasterous turn of events in Sydney I needed to come back to support.
Instead I come back to a closed case file, no word from my psychiatrist and no support.
I do not trust this system nor the people working in it.
Dr Red is clearly taken aback by this honest, heartfelt and slightly angry explanation. He suddenly begins to realise the depth to which this patient has been neglected and tries desperately to find something that would help her. Dr Red asks Renee more questions, what would she like to see happen? who would she like to treat her? what would she like the outcomes to be?
Renee rolls her eyes and sighs. Each question has been asked to her a thousand times before by a thousand different psychologists, psychiatrists, psych ward nurses and social workers. Renee responds in a manner that make Dr Red pause. She explains that as she has no faith in the system she is looking interstate for a better support program. Renee continues to explain at length that she will move to the place with the best mental health system as Canberra's mental health system is incredibly pathetic and is doing more damage than good.
Dr Red stops writing his notes and changes the subject. He remembers that Renee's case manager wanted to also see her. Dr Red quickly explains that he needs to find Renee's case manager and then leaves the room.
Renee looks out the window, visibly shaking now as the panic takes over. She would never show this inept Dr Red her true emotions and she knows that all he will get from this visit is anger and hostility. Renee can hear other patients in the waiting room as they talk quietly with each other, her thoughts begin to drift to things she knows she's not meant to be thinking about, especially while in mental health. She begins to daydream about how she would vanish, disappear, cease to exist. Renee thinks about how fantastic it would be not to have to deal with any more centrestink people, mental health people, or having to explain to anyone why she feels the way she does.
Eventually Renee's daydream is interrupted as Dr Red returns with the news that the case manager is out. He asks Renee if she'd like to wait for her case manager to return. Renee looks at the incredibly stupid doctor and tells him that she will not wait, she is having a panic attack and would very much like to go home. He stares at her. Renee realises this psychiatrist has probably never seen someone hide their emotions so completely before. She shakes her head slightly and wonders who's brilliant idea it was to see this inept psychiatrist.
Finally, Dr Red makes the necessary motions that release Renee from the appointment. He makes one last comment about finding out what he can do to help and how someone will contact Renee at some point. Renee nods and leaves, obviously thinking that this man is an idiot.
As Renee waits for the lift to go back down to her car and finally leave the place she refers to as "hell", she realises that the last 30 minutes were a complete waste of time. Nothing was achieved. There was no goal other than for Mental Health to determine if they'd like to reopen her case file. Renee feels an intense anger and frustration for being made to go along to these silly appointments when there is no need.
Renee drives home, hoping all the way that someone would crash into her car and kill her. She is just so sick of people lying to her, she's unable to cope with all the broken promises and all the people (mental health as well as friends) who say they'll be there for her and then, when the time comes, they are scattered everywhere else ignoring her request for help.
She makes it home in one piece. Physically, not mentally.
* name has been changed to protect the psychiatrist mentioned in this blog.
Another Step, forwards or backwards?
I am terrified.
The edge of cliff is right there, just beyond my toes and I can see the merciless waves crashing against the sharply ragged rocks below. This is it.
Last night I enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts degree through Open Universities Australia. I can take up to ten years to complete my degree, which means I have plenty of time and don't have to face seeing a crowd of people who are just as nervous as me. I can do all my studying from home, or hospital should I need to be there. I can work as fast or as slowly as I'd like or can cope with.
Yet, I am terrified.
I am terrified because I've made a decision. There is something in making a decision that is permanent. It is final. The decision is made, the change is happening. Yes, the change is now imminent. Am I ready for this change? Will I be able to accept this change and learn? Or will I fall to pieces like I always seem to do and fail?
While being terrified is one part of my current psyche, the other part of me is similar to a child in a candy store! I want everything and can't wait to get stuck into all the delicious, sugary goodness! I want it now, now, damnit!
There are times I'd like to split myself in two and let each part run around equally like chickens with their heads cut off. Actually, that is a bad image, I personally don't really like the idea of a headless chook running around with blood and feathers exploding in a hundred different directions. Who comes up with these morbid images anyway? And people say Emo's are morbid.... *insert eye rolling here*
Anyway, the idea of splitting myself in two isn't an original one. Let's face it, there's the "boring bits" ad on tv currently. The only difference between me and the "boring bits" ad is that my whole life is boring, with the exception of my Twitter exploits. I'd like to say right now that if it weren't for Twitter I would probably be the most lonely person on the face of the planet.
Back to being terrified. How do you cope with something that is terrifying? I mean, there are people who jump right in and just get on with it. There are others who plan their way through a terrifying encounter. Then there are people like me who want to run, hide, scream, faint and everything else they can possibly do to avoid feeling the entire effect of being scared. I wouldn't recommend the latter as it's not only a bad way to lose weight (it doesn't work), but it puts a lot of stress on your body.
I am terrified.
The edge of cliff is right there, just beyond my toes and I can see the merciless waves crashing against the sharply ragged rocks below. This is it.
Last night I enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts degree through Open Universities Australia. I can take up to ten years to complete my degree, which means I have plenty of time and don't have to face seeing a crowd of people who are just as nervous as me. I can do all my studying from home, or hospital should I need to be there. I can work as fast or as slowly as I'd like or can cope with.
Yet, I am terrified.
I am terrified because I've made a decision. There is something in making a decision that is permanent. It is final. The decision is made, the change is happening. Yes, the change is now imminent. Am I ready for this change? Will I be able to accept this change and learn? Or will I fall to pieces like I always seem to do and fail?
While being terrified is one part of my current psyche, the other part of me is similar to a child in a candy store! I want everything and can't wait to get stuck into all the delicious, sugary goodness! I want it now, now, damnit!
There are times I'd like to split myself in two and let each part run around equally like chickens with their heads cut off. Actually, that is a bad image, I personally don't really like the idea of a headless chook running around with blood and feathers exploding in a hundred different directions. Who comes up with these morbid images anyway? And people say Emo's are morbid.... *insert eye rolling here*
Anyway, the idea of splitting myself in two isn't an original one. Let's face it, there's the "boring bits" ad on tv currently. The only difference between me and the "boring bits" ad is that my whole life is boring, with the exception of my Twitter exploits. I'd like to say right now that if it weren't for Twitter I would probably be the most lonely person on the face of the planet.
Back to being terrified. How do you cope with something that is terrifying? I mean, there are people who jump right in and just get on with it. There are others who plan their way through a terrifying encounter. Then there are people like me who want to run, hide, scream, faint and everything else they can possibly do to avoid feeling the entire effect of being scared. I wouldn't recommend the latter as it's not only a bad way to lose weight (it doesn't work), but it puts a lot of stress on your body.
I am terrified.
Humiliated
I am dreading something that I have to do today. The thought of me dreading anything is so strange I'm sure you're all sitting there gasping for breath with the shock of it.
However, I am dreading having to deal with centrestink today. It's another appointment day where I have to "justify" myself and prove to them I am actually as crazy as I say I am. It is so humiliating.
Lately I have been pondering thoughts of cancelling all involvement with centrestink. The whole organisation treats me like a liar, they assume that I scum and am just too lazy to work. Hell, I've said before and I'll say it again, if you have a job you'd like to offer me where you don't mind that I may only turn up once a week or need to run and hide because I feel the grip of an anxiety attack.
I am sure there is a boss out there who love to have someone so unrealiable working for them. In fact, I should waste everyone's time and look for a job only to leave after three months. Yes, you're right organisation that is centrestink, I should be working no matter what.
I find this whole silly thing makes me so angry. I like to work. I like the feeling of accomplishment one gets when working. I like being "important" in some small. What I don't like; being told by centrestink that I do not like these things and that I just want money for nothing.
Today's appointment is all about the interviewer judging me. The person who I will see will look at me, take into account my appearance, how I talk and act. This person will write a report on their findings and will send that to some other department within centrestink.
I don't like acting or pretending to be something other than what I am. I lied to myself for 23 years about being sick, I will not lie about it now. I must admit, I do take some joy out of being blunt and telling the person who interviews me just what my frame of mind is. One lady actually sat at the desk with her jaw open, staring at me. All I can say is "hey Lady, you asked the question."
Having said all this, I contribute terribly to this dread as I do work myself into a lather of trepidation and anger due to their assumption I'm lying scum. I would sincerely love to say that what I have experienced is all lovely and they treat me with respect. Not one person that I have had the pleasure of dealing with at centrestink has treated me with respect or even with the decency of being professional. Instead, I am constantly met with rude employees, eye rolling, sighing, "you shouldn't be on this payment, why are you lying?" and other such horrible encounters. Is it any wonder I feel such acute anxiety when it comes to appointments with centrestink?
I have two hours before the appointment. Right now my stomach is a knot of muscles, my gallbladder is trying to leap out of my body and I'm breaking out in a cold sweat. I will stop writing now so I may administer some emergency anxiety controlling procedures. I sincerely hope it works otherwise I will definitely be labelled "loser scum of the Earth" by centrestink for not appearing at the appointment.
However, I am dreading having to deal with centrestink today. It's another appointment day where I have to "justify" myself and prove to them I am actually as crazy as I say I am. It is so humiliating.
Lately I have been pondering thoughts of cancelling all involvement with centrestink. The whole organisation treats me like a liar, they assume that I scum and am just too lazy to work. Hell, I've said before and I'll say it again, if you have a job you'd like to offer me where you don't mind that I may only turn up once a week or need to run and hide because I feel the grip of an anxiety attack.
I am sure there is a boss out there who love to have someone so unrealiable working for them. In fact, I should waste everyone's time and look for a job only to leave after three months. Yes, you're right organisation that is centrestink, I should be working no matter what.
I find this whole silly thing makes me so angry. I like to work. I like the feeling of accomplishment one gets when working. I like being "important" in some small. What I don't like; being told by centrestink that I do not like these things and that I just want money for nothing.
Today's appointment is all about the interviewer judging me. The person who I will see will look at me, take into account my appearance, how I talk and act. This person will write a report on their findings and will send that to some other department within centrestink.
I don't like acting or pretending to be something other than what I am. I lied to myself for 23 years about being sick, I will not lie about it now. I must admit, I do take some joy out of being blunt and telling the person who interviews me just what my frame of mind is. One lady actually sat at the desk with her jaw open, staring at me. All I can say is "hey Lady, you asked the question."
Having said all this, I contribute terribly to this dread as I do work myself into a lather of trepidation and anger due to their assumption I'm lying scum. I would sincerely love to say that what I have experienced is all lovely and they treat me with respect. Not one person that I have had the pleasure of dealing with at centrestink has treated me with respect or even with the decency of being professional. Instead, I am constantly met with rude employees, eye rolling, sighing, "you shouldn't be on this payment, why are you lying?" and other such horrible encounters. Is it any wonder I feel such acute anxiety when it comes to appointments with centrestink?
I have two hours before the appointment. Right now my stomach is a knot of muscles, my gallbladder is trying to leap out of my body and I'm breaking out in a cold sweat. I will stop writing now so I may administer some emergency anxiety controlling procedures. I sincerely hope it works otherwise I will definitely be labelled "loser scum of the Earth" by centrestink for not appearing at the appointment.
The Day I Went Away
After spending the early afternoon wondering if anyone actually reads blogs on weekends, I decided I should catch up on all the blogs that I have not read yet. I have been a bad follower and have been neglecting my follower duties.
So I began from the top. I read about happiness, sadness, new technological updates and lots about what it's like to be a Mum! I cried, I laughed and I got angry along with the writers of the blogs! I fell in love, I fell out of love, I wondered why I bothered and I experienced being unsexy! Whatever you can imagine I have read about today.
Then as I was approaching the final blog in my reader list I felt some trepidation. Perhaps I already knew what was coming and that's why I felt the sudden clenching of stomach muscles?
I click on the blog. Inside my mini-reader-panel there are the gems that I had missed. But what is this? The last post was written 5 weeks ago! Surely I haven't been that neglectful?
I click on the first post I haven't read...
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!
Oh no... Please dear God no.
There is no more blog. The awesomeness that I was instructed to sit down before reading, is no longer.
I felt the air leave my lungs and no matter how much my brain screamed to inhale I could not. One of my favourite blogs is gone. Gone.
The word is still bringing up hysterical behaviour in my brain. The threat of forgetting to inhale and exhale is looming dangerously close.
What am I going to do now? How shall I get my fix of that which is awesome?
Surely this great tragedy affects the entire world? There is now no level of awesomeness to compare those that wish they were awesome to. Yes, this is me panicking. If you have a good imagination you could even hear me hyperventilating right about... now.
You Might Want To Sit Down For This... was one of the best blogs I was following. Indeed I would like to say it's one of the best blogs I have ever read. I enjoyed every minute of Rick's writing and his penchant for throwing in big words that I would desperately look up in my dictionary. Frantically, I would read every word he wrote, almost salivating over his precision and the delicacy with which he wrote. Now, that amazing blog of awesomeness is... *insert deep breath here*... Gone.
I am yet to decide just how I will endure without this blog as part of my daily (okay, so almost daily when I was being a good follower, oh just shut up!) reading. Nor am I sure what the future will hold without some of the most awesome blog posts in the history of blogs and posts.
So I began from the top. I read about happiness, sadness, new technological updates and lots about what it's like to be a Mum! I cried, I laughed and I got angry along with the writers of the blogs! I fell in love, I fell out of love, I wondered why I bothered and I experienced being unsexy! Whatever you can imagine I have read about today.
I click on the blog. Inside my mini-reader-panel there are the gems that I had missed. But what is this? The last post was written 5 weeks ago! Surely I haven't been that neglectful?
I click on the first post I haven't read...
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!
Oh no... Please dear God no.
There is no more blog. The awesomeness that I was instructed to sit down before reading, is no longer.
I felt the air leave my lungs and no matter how much my brain screamed to inhale I could not. One of my favourite blogs is gone. Gone.
The word is still bringing up hysterical behaviour in my brain. The threat of forgetting to inhale and exhale is looming dangerously close.
What am I going to do now? How shall I get my fix of that which is awesome?
Surely this great tragedy affects the entire world? There is now no level of awesomeness to compare those that wish they were awesome to. Yes, this is me panicking. If you have a good imagination you could even hear me hyperventilating right about... now.
You Might Want To Sit Down For This... was one of the best blogs I was following. Indeed I would like to say it's one of the best blogs I have ever read. I enjoyed every minute of Rick's writing and his penchant for throwing in big words that I would desperately look up in my dictionary. Frantically, I would read every word he wrote, almost salivating over his precision and the delicacy with which he wrote. Now, that amazing blog of awesomeness is... *insert deep breath here*... Gone.
I am yet to decide just how I will endure without this blog as part of my daily (okay, so almost daily when I was being a good follower, oh just shut up!) reading. Nor am I sure what the future will hold without some of the most awesome blog posts in the history of blogs and posts.
There's always one that got away
This is the story of a girl, a broken heart and the wrong decision.
It was a couple of years ago now. I was playing this online game, being all pretty and popular in this virtual world. I felt like I had this virtual world as my oyster, I could do with it what I wished. It was like an adult version of playing with a barbie doll.
There was this one part of the game that I liked the most, an unexpected surprise that was strange yet wonderful.
I was into the emo, neko (that's a hybrid human and cat person, post apocalyptic etc, I have pictures of my avatar on Flickr if you really want), grungy chick who loved the whole guns and weapons scene. Yes, indeed I am describing RP (role play).
Then one day there was this chick. She was running through the street, shooting someone (or thing really, she was after a lycan) with such accuracy I literally stopped what I was doing to watch this spektical. I was hooked.
Her name was CrimsonX Varriale.
She taught me how to use weapons, where to find the best things and how to have fun in this virtual world that was fast becoming the only life I had.
We spent pretty much every day together. We spoke via voice (thus I know she was a real chick!) and were never at a loss of things to do or talk about. She opened my eyes to amazing games, music and even photoshop techniques.
In a word, she was perfect.
One night at a gig I was doing (I was an online DJ, which is a lot of fun!) she requested a song. Flyleaf - All Around Me, which I still listen to and think of her.
Crim then asked me to be her partner, yes in this game you could partner people, and I accepted.
I had never been so happy in my life.
I didn't know it then but I was actually in love. I was in love with her brain, with her personality. It wouldn't have mattered what she looked like in the flesh, I was hooked. But I digress.
One day I started to think. This was pre-diagnosed-with-crazy-illness. The thinking led me to do something I regret.
I ended the partnership with Crimson and promptly decided to leave the game. I couldn't face her or even myself and chose the easiest way to leave. I regret that decision with every fibre of my being. I miss her.
I miss talking with her, laughing, joking and all that other stuff. She knew there was something "not quite right" about me, but she liked me anyway. I never had to be anyone else other than myself with her. I was in awe of her awesomeness. I was, in all honesty, in awe with her.
Now I sit here and tweet about how unhappy I am. Yet I know that I'm the reason I am unhappy and this regret eats away at me every day. A little more each day I become harder, jaded and more fractured. All because I was scared of what I felt for her and of the thought of her finding out what I'm really like and thus leaving me.
Every time I hear Flyleaf - All Around Me I stop and think about Crim and my utter stupidity.
It was a couple of years ago now. I was playing this online game, being all pretty and popular in this virtual world. I felt like I had this virtual world as my oyster, I could do with it what I wished. It was like an adult version of playing with a barbie doll.
There was this one part of the game that I liked the most, an unexpected surprise that was strange yet wonderful.
I was into the emo, neko (that's a hybrid human and cat person, post apocalyptic etc, I have pictures of my avatar on Flickr if you really want), grungy chick who loved the whole guns and weapons scene. Yes, indeed I am describing RP (role play).
Then one day there was this chick. She was running through the street, shooting someone (or thing really, she was after a lycan) with such accuracy I literally stopped what I was doing to watch this spektical. I was hooked.
Her name was CrimsonX Varriale.
She taught me how to use weapons, where to find the best things and how to have fun in this virtual world that was fast becoming the only life I had.
We spent pretty much every day together. We spoke via voice (thus I know she was a real chick!) and were never at a loss of things to do or talk about. She opened my eyes to amazing games, music and even photoshop techniques.
In a word, she was perfect.
One night at a gig I was doing (I was an online DJ, which is a lot of fun!) she requested a song. Flyleaf - All Around Me, which I still listen to and think of her.
Crim then asked me to be her partner, yes in this game you could partner people, and I accepted.
I had never been so happy in my life.
I didn't know it then but I was actually in love. I was in love with her brain, with her personality. It wouldn't have mattered what she looked like in the flesh, I was hooked. But I digress.
One day I started to think. This was pre-diagnosed-with-crazy-illness. The thinking led me to do something I regret.
I ended the partnership with Crimson and promptly decided to leave the game. I couldn't face her or even myself and chose the easiest way to leave. I regret that decision with every fibre of my being. I miss her.
I miss talking with her, laughing, joking and all that other stuff. She knew there was something "not quite right" about me, but she liked me anyway. I never had to be anyone else other than myself with her. I was in awe of her awesomeness. I was, in all honesty, in awe with her.
Now I sit here and tweet about how unhappy I am. Yet I know that I'm the reason I am unhappy and this regret eats away at me every day. A little more each day I become harder, jaded and more fractured. All because I was scared of what I felt for her and of the thought of her finding out what I'm really like and thus leaving me.
Every time I hear Flyleaf - All Around Me I stop and think about Crim and my utter stupidity.
Saturday Blues
Who would have thought that on a Saturday afternoon I would start to fall apart.
Why I am falling apart, I don't know. I am just falling apart.
I probably shouldn't have indulged in the behaviour that makes me upset. However, if I did that I would have nothing to blog about. Maybe that would be a good thing?
Anyway, I was tweeting as I always do when I am bored. I mentioned something to a friend about a game I used to play and how the people on that game hate me. This is where my crazy disorder kicks in.
On one hand I was saying everything in jest, I mean I'm not that horrible am I?
On the other hand I knew that the people I used to chat with on that game do in fact hate me, even if I don't know why.
Unfortunately, it was sort of comfortable being in my little world where I wasn't sure which one of the two it was. I believe this is called denial.
My friend told me which of the two options it was.
Result: Renee is crushed.
Rather stupid is it not? I mean it's not a big deal. So pixel people hate me. I mean I have nothing more to do with them, so why should it bother me?
Argh, it's so frustrating being a few sheep short of a paddock! Although I might actually have a few sheep too many thus all the confusion. It makes a bit more sense than not enough sheep....
So now, I'm sitting on my bed resisting the urge to scream at everyone for ignoring me and to just leave me the fuck alone, while holding back the hysterical laughter and a tempest of tears.
How can things go from awesome to broken in a few minutes?
As much as I'd like to believe the professional mind fucks about a series of events happening that cause us to be sad but not acknowledge that sadness until it's too much, I just can't seem to come to terms with their reasoning.
Wouldn't I feel something if I were upset by situations and circumstances?
Wouldn't I notice something different before the final spiral into oblivion?
Oh well, I only have a mental illness (or three), I'm not the one who knows anything about them.
Why I am falling apart, I don't know. I am just falling apart.
I probably shouldn't have indulged in the behaviour that makes me upset. However, if I did that I would have nothing to blog about. Maybe that would be a good thing?
Anyway, I was tweeting as I always do when I am bored. I mentioned something to a friend about a game I used to play and how the people on that game hate me. This is where my crazy disorder kicks in.
On one hand I was saying everything in jest, I mean I'm not that horrible am I?
On the other hand I knew that the people I used to chat with on that game do in fact hate me, even if I don't know why.
Unfortunately, it was sort of comfortable being in my little world where I wasn't sure which one of the two it was. I believe this is called denial.
My friend told me which of the two options it was.
Result: Renee is crushed.
Rather stupid is it not? I mean it's not a big deal. So pixel people hate me. I mean I have nothing more to do with them, so why should it bother me?
Argh, it's so frustrating being a few sheep short of a paddock! Although I might actually have a few sheep too many thus all the confusion. It makes a bit more sense than not enough sheep....
So now, I'm sitting on my bed resisting the urge to scream at everyone for ignoring me and to just leave me the fuck alone, while holding back the hysterical laughter and a tempest of tears.
How can things go from awesome to broken in a few minutes?
As much as I'd like to believe the professional mind fucks about a series of events happening that cause us to be sad but not acknowledge that sadness until it's too much, I just can't seem to come to terms with their reasoning.
Wouldn't I feel something if I were upset by situations and circumstances?
Wouldn't I notice something different before the final spiral into oblivion?
Oh well, I only have a mental illness (or three), I'm not the one who knows anything about them.
Aftershock
I think I scared some people today. It seems that I have this ability to appear okay, then I'm not okay and people are shocked. This surprises me because I am constantly living with the craziness, the mood swings and other sundry "benefits". Perhaps I could be an outsider for a day and see what others see?
Today was particularly bad. My reasoning and ability to cope is severely limited at the moment. This period (the Christmas one) always makes me sad. I guess I've never had what I would call a happy Christmas. I always found it boring. I mean sure, there's presents, but then there was nothing. Just my parental units and me. All my friends were on holidays, with their families or both.
Mind you, being in Tasmania for three years and living in the Anglesea Barracks was fun. I could run around the whole barracks and never bump into anyone! However, even that got boring after a few hours.
Many days I wish I could just wake up and not have so much ridiculous rubbish floating through my grey matter. Although, I know that in my case such a wish is extremely unrealistic. There are very few people who wake up one day and are better.
Tomorrow... Ah well now we're dealing with a whole new kettle of fish. A new day and all that rubbish. Another year since more shit happened! Another year in which I haven't been able to change so everything is better. Another year of failing. Yes it is failing because I haven't been able to fix, help, do anything to make the next day better.
Now I even begin to wonder why I write such horrible things that only make others upset. Maybe it doesn't? But what if it does?
Upon scarring someone you can never take it back. It's burned and etched in their psyche forever. That's a guilty side of life I have trouble dealing with.
Haha, it's all a guilty side of life for me!!
Well 10pm, I have to go to bed. Apparently my GP thinks that if I take my meds early and take a double dose I will miraculously feel better. Ha!
Today was particularly bad. My reasoning and ability to cope is severely limited at the moment. This period (the Christmas one) always makes me sad. I guess I've never had what I would call a happy Christmas. I always found it boring. I mean sure, there's presents, but then there was nothing. Just my parental units and me. All my friends were on holidays, with their families or both.
Mind you, being in Tasmania for three years and living in the Anglesea Barracks was fun. I could run around the whole barracks and never bump into anyone! However, even that got boring after a few hours.
Many days I wish I could just wake up and not have so much ridiculous rubbish floating through my grey matter. Although, I know that in my case such a wish is extremely unrealistic. There are very few people who wake up one day and are better.
Tomorrow... Ah well now we're dealing with a whole new kettle of fish. A new day and all that rubbish. Another year since more shit happened! Another year in which I haven't been able to change so everything is better. Another year of failing. Yes it is failing because I haven't been able to fix, help, do anything to make the next day better.
Now I even begin to wonder why I write such horrible things that only make others upset. Maybe it doesn't? But what if it does?
Upon scarring someone you can never take it back. It's burned and etched in their psyche forever. That's a guilty side of life I have trouble dealing with.
Haha, it's all a guilty side of life for me!!
Well 10pm, I have to go to bed. Apparently my GP thinks that if I take my meds early and take a double dose I will miraculously feel better. Ha!
Over it
Basically since my last botched hospital attempt I've been on a tightrope, desperately trying to keep my balance. Lately I've realised that I've been falling for a couple of weeks. Falling hopelessly into yet another black hole.
Then there's the part where I tried to pretend everything is fine. I put on the smile and say "sure you can stay here!" instead of really saying "I'm feeling like shit and can't cope with people here right now". I guess I worry that my friend won't understand. It doesn't matter if I'm not feeling well, as long as they are happy.
Now I wonder if they really are happy if I'm breaking apart?
Do they notice?
There is such a sweetness in escaping reality. If only I could escape it permanently! Oh, right, because that's not allowed. I seem to always forget that little part.
HOT! HOT! HOT!
If you're in the southern hemisphere, predominantly Australia, you will understand me when I say, IT'S BLOODY HOT.
It's only November and already we're reaching temperatures of 40 degrees! And that's not just in Adelaide, SA, where they are known for some serious heat waves. Talk about global warming. I don't think the globe has warmed, I think some smart arse put it in the oven.
As you may, or may not, be able to tell I don't really cope so well in the heat. Not only that, but I'm one of the unfortunates who have to endure the super-hot-spring weather without the comforting aid of an air conditioner. Yes, you read that right. No air conditioner. None. None.
You may wonder how I survive in this insane heat. In fact I'm wondering the same thing...
Perhaps it has something to do with the fan strategically placed in front of me? Maybe the fact that sitting right next to me is my best friend, a water bottle, who helps reduce the heat?
Either way, I'm sitting here, melting. I'm breathing in hot air. Hot air people. It is not pleasant.
Did I mention that it's not even summer yet?
I envy all these summer-going-loving-the-sun-beach-bums that are outside tanning and laughing. I even go near a window in this heat and I find I have sunburn. How I long for gorgeously tanned skin, blonde hair and the summer body to match.. You know, one of those gorgeous girls in the summer commercials or ads in magazines? They are always so pretty, so composed, and never sweat or show signs of extreme discomfort because of the heat. Maybe that's because of all the airbrushing they go through.
Speaking of airbrushing, when will I ever get air brushed in real time? I would love to walk around with a permanent airbrushed look. That's right, no bad hair day or bad skin day for me!
Ah, one can dream...
So how will I spend my summer? That's easy, I plan to hide in the dark recesses of shade. I may even hide out at my local shopping centre where they have air conditioning and pretty things to looking at.
What I won't be doing is spending my time cavorting the stunning sun with all the beautiful people at the beach.
It's only November and already we're reaching temperatures of 40 degrees! And that's not just in Adelaide, SA, where they are known for some serious heat waves. Talk about global warming. I don't think the globe has warmed, I think some smart arse put it in the oven.
As you may, or may not, be able to tell I don't really cope so well in the heat. Not only that, but I'm one of the unfortunates who have to endure the super-hot-spring weather without the comforting aid of an air conditioner. Yes, you read that right. No air conditioner. None. None.
You may wonder how I survive in this insane heat. In fact I'm wondering the same thing...Perhaps it has something to do with the fan strategically placed in front of me? Maybe the fact that sitting right next to me is my best friend, a water bottle, who helps reduce the heat?
Either way, I'm sitting here, melting. I'm breathing in hot air. Hot air people. It is not pleasant.
Did I mention that it's not even summer yet?
I envy all these summer-going-loving-the-sun-beach-bums that are outside tanning and laughing. I even go near a window in this heat and I find I have sunburn. How I long for gorgeously tanned skin, blonde hair and the summer body to match.. You know, one of those gorgeous girls in the summer commercials or ads in magazines? They are always so pretty, so composed, and never sweat or show signs of extreme discomfort because of the heat. Maybe that's because of all the airbrushing they go through.
Speaking of airbrushing, when will I ever get air brushed in real time? I would love to walk around with a permanent airbrushed look. That's right, no bad hair day or bad skin day for me!
Ah, one can dream...
So how will I spend my summer? That's easy, I plan to hide in the dark recesses of shade. I may even hide out at my local shopping centre where they have air conditioning and pretty things to looking at.
What I won't be doing is spending my time cavorting the stunning sun with all the beautiful people at the beach.
Another day, another dye
Today I decided that all those stray grey hairs I have needed to be reminded who is in control. Damn it, I am in control!! I really am. Maybe?
So now I have a sexy blue-black colour in my short hair. Yes, it's short. That doesn't mean I can be denied the joys of colour. Bite me.
The style is like that of Ruby Rose (the chick in the picture). If only I were as pretty as she!
It's remarkable how something so small, so simple, can make a person feel better. Something as simple as dying my hair has lifted my spirits to an almost soaring level. I even feel hot (the good looking hot, not the "I'm melting from the heat") sitting here in my lounge room at 9:48pm in my pj's. Sexy.
Why is it that grey hair is so hated? In fact why do we, as women, hate our hair no matter what colour it is naturally? I mean, people with straight hair wants curls, those with curly hair want straight hair. Why can't we ever just be happy with who and what we have?
Perhaps those are rhetorical questions as they will never be satisfactorily answered, at least not without going into a deep and meaningful debate about the reasons behind the female psyche. I'll leave that debate for another day.
So here I am, sitting in my lounge room in the most sexy pj's ever (hey, they have pink stiletto's on them and glitter) pretending to watch a repeat of NCIS.
My Wednesday night is one hell of a party!
Let's get this party started...
Broken pieces
It started at 7pm. The darkness surrounded me in thick black waves. It enveloped me and smothered me. I couldn't escape it. There was no hope.
The message came through at 7pm. He seems to feel compelled to speak to me. I really wish he wouldn't. He makes me feel guilty. He makes me feel like I need to justify myself and my actions, when they have nothing to do with him. I really wish he would leave me alone, at least for more than a few days.
I tried to escape the darkness, I ran away from it. However, I can't run fast enough to get away from it. No, it's still with me, being insidious and snaking it's way through every pore and cell of my body. It's tearing me apart from the inside.
The feelings are the worst part. The darkness on its own is bearable. Feelings of loss, hopelessness, uselessness, sadness and angryness are not bearable. They fight for pole position, which one will take over?
Each day passes and I feel even more fragile. My life has become one big fractured and tortured existence. What is the point of fighting when no one will help?
The person who said he wanted to help, inevitably wanted me to listen to him and listen to his problems. He wanted me to be his rock, his safety net, while he told me he wanted me to talk with him.
I hope I am not the only one to see how ridiculous this is?
I am alone in this fight. At the end of the day there is no one else.
The message came through at 7pm. He seems to feel compelled to speak to me. I really wish he wouldn't. He makes me feel guilty. He makes me feel like I need to justify myself and my actions, when they have nothing to do with him. I really wish he would leave me alone, at least for more than a few days.
I tried to escape the darkness, I ran away from it. However, I can't run fast enough to get away from it. No, it's still with me, being insidious and snaking it's way through every pore and cell of my body. It's tearing me apart from the inside.
The feelings are the worst part. The darkness on its own is bearable. Feelings of loss, hopelessness, uselessness, sadness and angryness are not bearable. They fight for pole position, which one will take over?
Each day passes and I feel even more fragile. My life has become one big fractured and tortured existence. What is the point of fighting when no one will help?
The person who said he wanted to help, inevitably wanted me to listen to him and listen to his problems. He wanted me to be his rock, his safety net, while he told me he wanted me to talk with him.
I hope I am not the only one to see how ridiculous this is?
I am alone in this fight. At the end of the day there is no one else.
A question of sexuality
I won't be adding this entry on my website. This is kind of private, yet not. I still want to talk about it because it's confusing me lately.
Perhaps I could spend the majority of the entry dancing around the issue and perhaps you'll understand what I'm saying. There are far too many "perhaps" in that sentence. I guess I'll just be blunt and see how that goes.
I just wonder...
Okay lately I have been struggling with a new thought. Oh. My. God. A new thought?! Me?! Never!
I'm 25. I feel old. I have grey hairs, a lot of them and no matter how many times people tell me it's because of stress it never makes me feel any better. I always thought I was "straight", at least I just went along with that. Isn't that what people do?
Now, however, I'm finding that I may not be exactly as I thought. I am still attracted to men. I just find I'm more attracted to women. I think.
For instance, I'm on so many medications, therapies etc that I don't know who, what or where I am. Does this now include my sexuality?
This isn't a big deal for lots of people. I mean some of my friends (yes on Twitter) are gay, lesbian or bi. I love them dearly, no not because of their sexual orientation, I love them because of who they are. They make me laugh and allow me to be part of their lives, if only in 140 characters or less.
So it begs the question, why is this such a big deal for me?
Perhaps it ties in with everything else in my head. I've had this idea of who people want me to be. It seems that I just do what others want. It's part of learning how to please people so they don't actually notice you. Fun stuff right there.
So now I find that having my own thoughts, my own REAL thoughts, is a little scary. Okay, so it's a lot scary. I'm terrified.
Every single day I think something new. I learn something new about me. A realisation may walk up to me and hit me so hard in the face I swear it leaves a hand print. It's very hard to accept, to process, when all these things are coming at you.
How do I cope with this as well as being nucking futs? (fucking nuts to the uninitiated.) This is not just something small. It is, indeed, an entire identity adjustment.
Who the fuck am I and why do I feel like I'm being torn in 50 different directions?
Perhaps I could spend the majority of the entry dancing around the issue and perhaps you'll understand what I'm saying. There are far too many "perhaps" in that sentence. I guess I'll just be blunt and see how that goes.
I just wonder...
Okay lately I have been struggling with a new thought. Oh. My. God. A new thought?! Me?! Never!
I'm 25. I feel old. I have grey hairs, a lot of them and no matter how many times people tell me it's because of stress it never makes me feel any better. I always thought I was "straight", at least I just went along with that. Isn't that what people do?
Now, however, I'm finding that I may not be exactly as I thought. I am still attracted to men. I just find I'm more attracted to women. I think.
For instance, I'm on so many medications, therapies etc that I don't know who, what or where I am. Does this now include my sexuality?
This isn't a big deal for lots of people. I mean some of my friends (yes on Twitter) are gay, lesbian or bi. I love them dearly, no not because of their sexual orientation, I love them because of who they are. They make me laugh and allow me to be part of their lives, if only in 140 characters or less.
So it begs the question, why is this such a big deal for me?
Perhaps it ties in with everything else in my head. I've had this idea of who people want me to be. It seems that I just do what others want. It's part of learning how to please people so they don't actually notice you. Fun stuff right there.
So now I find that having my own thoughts, my own REAL thoughts, is a little scary. Okay, so it's a lot scary. I'm terrified.
Every single day I think something new. I learn something new about me. A realisation may walk up to me and hit me so hard in the face I swear it leaves a hand print. It's very hard to accept, to process, when all these things are coming at you.
How do I cope with this as well as being nucking futs? (fucking nuts to the uninitiated.) This is not just something small. It is, indeed, an entire identity adjustment.
Who the fuck am I and why do I feel like I'm being torn in 50 different directions?
In the Middle of a Dream...
I woke up with a very bitter taste in my mind. Yes, bitterness can be tasted by our brains. How do you think we actually decipher taste?!
Anyway, I had strange dreams again. This in itself is not unusual as my night time medication is known to cause some spaced-out-vivid-dreams. The only time I really pay attentin to these dreams is when they actually seem to have some kind of meaning to a situation in my life.
Instead of my usual angry-blood-everywhere-fake-movie-style-actionesque-dream I had an experience that really hit home. It was a very clear indication that something I had chosen to do in the last week was, in fact, the right thing to do.
Perhaps it might help if I explain a little bit of the dream.
She's sitting in the car, but at the same time she's reclining in the seat, almost laying down. Her back is to the driver. The window is open and she's playing with the feeling of the air rushing through her fingers.
She won't look at the driver even though he won't shut up. He just keeps talking and talking. She doesn't even know what he's talking about anymore.
He says something that makes her tense her entire body. She's not even sure what exactly he said. Maybe it was just his tone?
She holds onto the handle on the door, gripping it so tightly her hands hurt. She wants to be anywhere but with this man. He makes her uncomfortable. He tells her things she doesn't want to know.
Finally she hears something he says "You're the reason I wake up in the morning"
She shudders. This is not right. Doesn't he know that he's making her uncomfortable? Doesn't he pay any attention at all?
She pulls herself closer to the door, ready to escape.
When will this drive be over?
She just wants to be safe away from him.
The dream was like I was watching it, yet I could feel the emotions of the girl (me). Fear.
Pure and simple, fear. Debilitating fear. It was like being trapped, a caged animal unable to do anything other than what the captor wanted.
The feelings are still with me. It still scares me, but I know that dream is indicative of what I did feel and what I would have felt had I not done what I needed to do.
As cruel as this will sound, I am glad I listened to myself and not did "what was right" for other people.
No, this was about me and where I am in my life. Right now, I don't want someone who needs me more than I need them. Sorry, that's just the way it is.
Independence.
Who would have thought I would ever become Independent?
Anyway, I had strange dreams again. This in itself is not unusual as my night time medication is known to cause some spaced-out-vivid-dreams. The only time I really pay attentin to these dreams is when they actually seem to have some kind of meaning to a situation in my life.
Instead of my usual angry-blood-everywhere-fake-movie-style-actionesque-dream I had an experience that really hit home. It was a very clear indication that something I had chosen to do in the last week was, in fact, the right thing to do.
Perhaps it might help if I explain a little bit of the dream.
She's sitting in the car, but at the same time she's reclining in the seat, almost laying down. Her back is to the driver. The window is open and she's playing with the feeling of the air rushing through her fingers.
She won't look at the driver even though he won't shut up. He just keeps talking and talking. She doesn't even know what he's talking about anymore.
He says something that makes her tense her entire body. She's not even sure what exactly he said. Maybe it was just his tone?
She holds onto the handle on the door, gripping it so tightly her hands hurt. She wants to be anywhere but with this man. He makes her uncomfortable. He tells her things she doesn't want to know.
Finally she hears something he says "You're the reason I wake up in the morning"
She shudders. This is not right. Doesn't he know that he's making her uncomfortable? Doesn't he pay any attention at all?
She pulls herself closer to the door, ready to escape.
When will this drive be over?
She just wants to be safe away from him.
The dream was like I was watching it, yet I could feel the emotions of the girl (me). Fear.
Pure and simple, fear. Debilitating fear. It was like being trapped, a caged animal unable to do anything other than what the captor wanted.
The feelings are still with me. It still scares me, but I know that dream is indicative of what I did feel and what I would have felt had I not done what I needed to do.
As cruel as this will sound, I am glad I listened to myself and not did "what was right" for other people.
No, this was about me and where I am in my life. Right now, I don't want someone who needs me more than I need them. Sorry, that's just the way it is.
Independence.
Who would have thought I would ever become Independent?