Archive for the ‘Crying’ Category

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Do you remember why?

August 28, 2011

*SELF HARM TRIGGERS AND DISTURBING IMAGES*

I was just looking through some photos and found some very shocking ones of myself with cuts all up my arms. My cutting has reduced in the past year, although not stopped. But it wasn’t the cuts that’s shocked me the most, it was that I couldn’t even remember why I did them. Surely if it was so bad that I had to cut that much then I would remember why I did it? But no I don’t. It just says to me that the reasons that I cut aren’t as important as the cuts themselves. I make a big thing out of nothing as an excuse to hurt myself so people can see how much I’m hurting. I guess.

Last year I did this to myself. I just wish I knew a reason for each cut. Why?

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Competing.

June 25, 2011

So here I am, decided against self harm so I’m not a dissapointment and decide to go on a late night stroll. There’s not many people out and It’s deathly quiet so I thought I’d do some writing.

I thought I would write about the 3 people who (are supposed) to love me most. My parents and my husband. All 3 of them have something in common, something that drains the life out of me on a daily basis and makes the hole inside of me bigger.

Obsessions.

Now, from a young age I have had to compete against my parents obsessions, Merrill Osmond of the Osmond Brothers and Football. I always knew my mum loved Merrill more than me and my dad would never stop talking about football. The only way to ever be with them was to go to an Osmond concert or go to the football. Otherwise I was alone. I felt neglected for these obsessions, passions, whatever you want to call them and It meant I was always fighting for their love and attention although I never believed they would love me more than those things. I was fighting a losing battle so at one point I guess I just gave up fighting for their love and accepted that I wouldn’t get it and I didn’t want to keep havig to do what they wanted to be with them, I wanted to be their choice not their option. My dad has started to be with me more, my mum has never changed.

My husband spends more time gaming than he spends being with me. It feels like exactly the same thing I’ve got through, I feel neglected, unloved and at some points I just leave because I would rather sit in a dark street than sit in a room with my husband feeling more lonely than ever. You can feel lonely if you are alone but the worst lonliness is when you’re with other people and they choose
Not to be with you. At that point, I just wish I didn’t exist, to see if that would make them come away from their obsession and see that I’m alive too.

I’ve screamed, I’ve cried, I’ve cut. In the end they use their passions to further ignore. All of these people have been damaged in their childhood and need something to fill a hole, yet I don’t seem to fit the bill and that makes my hole even bigger.

I try and justify it by thinking maybe it’s just me, maybe I make it all up. Maybe I just want attention too much. Maybe they get so damn sick of me that It’s my fault they would rather be elsewhere and with other people. Maybe if I were better they might love me enough to fill that gap. And that I come back to reality and go and cut myself again.

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Being a little girl again.

February 24, 2011

I wasn’t sure what to write but I felt like I should as I haven’t in a little while. I don’t want to keep talking about J so much because I don’t want people to get sick of hearing about him and how sickeningly in love I am with the fool but bear with me today please 😉

As it’s half term we’ve been spending a lot of time together, I stayed over his for a couple of nights and during that stay I got tonsillitis. Now, If I were home I would have carried on with my day and just moped a little maybe told my parents I wasn’t feeling well so they might notice my existance. But what I notice when I’m with J is that suddenly my illness because a HUGE thing, I cry, I demand attention and I want to be looked after 24/7. It’s like I turn into a little girl, who when she is ill, wants her caregiver and so will cling and cry and take all she can in love and care. It feels really good.

I was able to feel how I wanted to feel, I was allowed to be ill without it being inconvinient for everyone else. As a positive, I was finally able to receive the attention and care that I deserved that I knew I wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere.

As a negative, I subconsciously recognise that being ill means I get love and care resulting in my enjoyment of illness. I like causing a fuss when I’m ill, I want to be noticed, I want some bloody sympathy. I never ever got any sympathy for being ill as a child from my parents so now I crave it. Sometimes I do things without realising, If I accidentally hit my arm, I’ll shout “OUCH!” and get teary and J will comfort me and hold me and then I suddenly realise, that didn’t even hurt, what’s going on? It’s like this inner child is trying to get her well deserved care.

I feel pathetic when I act like my pain or illness is bigger than it is, but when he’s there, it’s like it becomes more because someone will actually care now. My illness matters.

We’re both lacking a lot and as a result we are each others parents. It feels natural for us to ask each others advice on everything and ask each others permission on everything. I need to know that what I am doing is accepted as okay so I can feel good and confident about myself.

Sometimes we even talk to each other in the kind of voice you use with a baby or small child, it’s like some kind of child comfort, we nurtures each others inner children. Hopefully the positives of that can outweigh the negatives.

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Doomed before the beginning.

February 5, 2011

Do you ever feel like your background dooms you to a life of misery and failure?

In my family only one person (not including me) is in a happy relationship, however this is her second marriage. Not one person is my family has gotten it right first time and except this one person the rest are single and my parents are unhappily married. I feel like my relationship is doomed before we’re even married. With such an unhappy family and with the issues running throughout, I feel like my happiness is only an illusion to keep me going and that something has got to kill us before we get too happy. The fact that the majority of my family are over 50 and single and never had any parteners in the last 18 years makes me wonder what the future holds for me. I often wonder if I mistake my severe neediness for love which results in panic attacks due to the thought of not actually being able to love how normal people do. I then feel severe guilt for stringing J along because I don’t really know how to love. These awful thoughts and panic attacks really mess with our relationship and with my head. I love J. But my head doesn’t want me to, my head wants me to be alone so I don’t have to ever have conflict or become an independent adult in the outside world. My head wants me to hide away and be alone. My heart wants to marry J and start a new life and leave the past behind.

The problem is following my heart over my head. Because every now and then my head wants me dead.

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“You can’t share.”

December 6, 2010

It’s a fact, I can’t. But I’m not talking about possessions, I’m talking about people. I can share SOME people but to be able to do that I have to disconnect emotionally from them and reconnect when they are “mine” again. I can do this with most friends. But I’m sure you can guess, the one I can’t bear to emotionally disconnect from.

J says I can’t share him, well no I can’t. Don’t see why I should find it easy to share him, I am in love with the poor bugger and emotionally screwed up. Of course I will cling for dear life to the only person who I feel have truely deeply and emotionally loved me in spite of everything. I’m not going to let him run off with other people am I?  I know I need to somehow through my CBT be able to feel more comfortable about it but it’s yet to be worked on and as I have about 3 months left I doubt, unless it was the only topic discussed, it’ll work out all nice and I’m able to share him with the world. No chance.

He always say it’s because I’m an only child but it’s not, it’s because I terrified of losing him to other people. I’m scared that he’ll enjoy their company more than mine and then leave me, realising how terribly boring I am in comparison. I become so upset and distressed and angry. Mostly angry. Really angry. &*%^$%$£^£&£*&$*$*$$!”$%^&$YRTFG. Like that 😀

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Hate is a strong word? Then it’s perfect.

December 2, 2010

If I were still in the Mormon Church I would be classed as unworthy because of my feelings towards my family but that’s ignorance right there. How can you forgive something that is ongoing and never stops?

I think I’ve had just about enough, now don’t you dare think this is a teenage “my parent’s don’t understand me, I hate them!” balls because I scream. I have been neglected, abused, stepped all over, guilt tripped and emotionally blackmailed so many times and It has wittled me down to almost nothing. My CBT has opened up a lot for me, my excuses for letting my parents do these things to me and not stick up for myself were that I felt sorry for them and they’re both ill. But I can’t carry on giving in to my mum’s emotional guilt trips or my dad’s blackmailing, they may be ill but that doesn’t mean they have a right to use and abuse me. I am their daughter, I shouldn’t have to take my mum to hospital if she feels ill or put my dad’s socks on every morning, I am fnejfwuniu sick of it all. I want out. I want f***ing out, now.

Mum

I was born to love mum. She wanted a child because she wanted a living “thing” to love her unconditionally and make her feel good about herself and be hers forever. She would then get angry and abusive to this thing if it didn’t give her what she wanted in love and affection or if it had it own needs. How dare it have it own needs. How dare it cry, hit it that should (as she’d say) “shut it up”. She says she never loved dad and just wanted to be looked after all her life, this has been the case financially anyway. I’m sure that she did love him but when things got tough and he had a breakdown she claims she never loved him so she had no responsibility for caring for him. After dad’s breakdown it was all about her, she was the poor wife who’s husbanhad a breakdown. Little S was left to fend for herself. Mum would go away a lot to “get away” leaving little S feeling scared that dad would kill her in the night, he would become psychotic. Little S didn’t know what was going on or where mummy had gone or if she was going to come back. Then when mum came back little S was expected to be excited about her return and love her all the same, she would cry when mum went away and be hostile when she came back. Mum wouldn’t have any of it, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and should be love unconditionally no matter what she did/does.

As I grew up, she was possessive, didn’t like me liking other family members, I was her posession. I felt guilty seeing my my aunt who I love because I knew it would upset mum and make her feel unloved. I remember once to get back at her I made a photoboard and had pictures of me and all of my family members seperately except her, I was sick of how she treated me and I wanted her to know that. If I was upset I hid and cried alone, I would be told I was silly for crying and my feelings invalidated. If she cried I had to comfort her and tell her I loved her, even If I didn’t feel it at the time. Once I just screamed “BITCH!!” and she ran into the kitchen crying and shouted “nothing loves me, I’m going to kill myself!!” It makes me so so angry just writing this, how dare she threaten suicide to a little girl. How dare she play the victim when I was the one hurting and why the hell should I have had to comfort her? But it’s what I did, I reassured her she was loved and then shut myself in my room. I konw what you may be thinking, it sounds like she has BPD right? Well that’s what I think and I said to Dr L that I feel hypocritical getting angry at her for BPD traits but she told me that I shouldn’t because at least I’m getting help and trying to change. Which is very true, I hate myself for my BPD traits and I actually feel guilt whereas my mother seems to feel no guilt and not care about anyone but herself. Now that I am ill, she is invalidating, doesn’t understand why I feel the way I do, she blames herself sometimes and I don’t correct her. As she is correct anyway. She says that she’s able to have a job, she’s able to live her life. This makes me feel worse but then I remember that she is miserable and she only has herself to blame for it, she hates her husband yet she still lives with him and his finance which is incapactiy benefit, while using her own wages for her leisure, why should contribute eh? She’s unhappy. It’s not like she could move out or anything is it, it’s not like she could start a fresh new life without him and maybe be happy. Heaven forbid.

Dad

Well dad has Bipolar, although doesn’t mean his behavious too can be excused. I know pleasantly nice people with Bipolar who love their kids more than anything. I know my dad loves me, he is just unable to show it. I have always been a daddys girl, not neccesarily because he was the most loving but he was the only one who took me out places and always wanted to do things with me. He would love to take me to the farm or to watch football with him and I never remember doing anything like that with mum or her even coming along. I’m never sure what behaviour and Bipolar and what behaviour was just him but everything I did was wrong, If I accidentally knocked something or fell I was a “stupid child” and hit until I screamed and ran away. If i was ever hyper I was told to shut up and stop showing off, I was always such a quiet child. I learnt that if I was quiet then it meant I couldn’t do or say anything wrong. I still managed to somehow though. Not to mention I had no clue until about 2 years ago when I asked dad what illness my dad said and he said “I think it’s Bipolar” and then I actually knew, before then I wasn’t even told what was wrong or what was going on. There is no communication and if you want to know something in the family, you’ll either find out by asking or by asking a million irrelevant questions until something happens to come out. He was hospitlised 3 times and to me it felt like a limetime and I would always cry in my room alone because I wanted my daddy back. I didn’t know what was going on and why everything was so chaotic, I only remember that mum never wanted to visit and always complained when we did go. I’ll never forgive her for being so uncaring. But then it seems as I’ve gotten older he’s realised that if his wife won’t look after him then his maturing daughter can take to the wife role, take him to appointments, do the shopping, put his socks on, make sure he take his meds and the like. Now this has all happened in the last 2 years and It’s the most degrading feeling to have someone tell you to put their socks on and then if you don’t they stress and scream and cry if you don’t. I HATE emotional blackmail and I hate that my mother sits back and allows this to happen, I say to her I don’t want to do it and she says I don’t have to but who else will make sure he doesn’t have another break down, she bloody sure won’t.

I really really am praying (figure of speech) that I can get out next year with J, he wants to go to Uni far from here so we can both just live and get away from this horrible pain, anxiety and stress. We both need to release form our restricting unhelpful parents. He wants to live with me near wherever needed and start a “real” life.

Sure, I’ll have to look after him but the difference is, he will look after me back.

Of course I have the panic of, what the hell will happen to my parents. My mum will surely hate me for leaving her and will do anything she can to be spiteful and childish. Dad will care that I’m going but he won’t show it, he will support my choice and be happy for me. Please let me get out, please, get me out. I can’t die here.

It’ll be sad to never have my parents involved in my life but in all honesty, they have earned no rights to be.

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Dreaming of Trauma.

November 17, 2010

Well where do I start, I have a long dream last night and it was filled with traumas from the past. Not one, but four. My dads hospitilisation, my bullying, a stalker and being humiliated. The bully and stalker story were kind of put together, I was wandering round a hotel and behind the bar working was D, my secondary school bully. At school i was nervous about turning a corner in case he was there and if he was I would panic and try and go another way, I think my friends felt I was overreacting but I was genuinely scared of him. So when i saw him in my dream i panicked, i was with J so i said who it was but then I said hes probably grown up a lot now, he wont do anything so we went and got a drink. D looked up at me and did that horrible grin he would do when he would laugh at me and said so arent you going to say anything to me? By which I replied I was expecting something from you first, he grinned again and then called me the male version of my name as he would at school and my stomach wretched and I left my drink and ran and every corner I seem to turn he was there. He walked over to me and I fell to the floor and screamed for someone to help me, a friend call Amy who in school was friends with us both and would help me came over and shouted for him to leave me alone. At this point I was lying on the floor crying and shaking. Throughout the dream Amy stayed with me and would ward him off when he appeared.

This dream not only resembled my bullying but also a stalker, at a holiday resort when I was 8 a boy approached me in a pool, he said his name was Phil and he was 13. He asked if i would be his girlfriend and I said no I was only 8. He then got closer to me and said “is it because im mentally diabled?!” he was but not severly and that wasnt the reason. I was 8 for heavens sake. I made my dad take me out of the pool and leave. I didnt tell my dad because as always ive had to deal with my traumas myself as my parents can never seem to help me. I knew dad would have laughed if i told him. Throughout the holiday, phil would appear and threaten me and get mad that I wouldnt be his girlfriend. I was scared to leave my room. I remember crying and praying that I wouldnt see him for the rest of the holiday. And I didn’t but the fear was still there and the fact I still remember it so clear shows how much it affected me.

Now my second dream last night put my dads hospitilisation and humiliation together. We were at a long table, me, my dad and about 6 doctors. We were discussing why dad should be hospitilised. Throughout the meeting my dad kept getting up and saying unusual things or needing to pace, he was manic and occasionally psychotic. I was terrified and said this to this doctors then everyone in the room burst out laughing and someone said through laughter “you’re so stupid!”

I woke up feeling anxious, shakey and broken. My dads psychosis and mania were scary enough. But when people laugh at me it breaks me down. Even as a child I couldnt bear people laughing at me even if i did something cute or funny, the only laughing I’d known was taunting. One family gathering we were playing a game round a big table, it was bill’s go and I said “your go Billy boy!” the whole family burst out laughing and I burst into tears, I was a humiliated little girl.

I spoke with my aunt about it recently and she said that if I did anything sweet or lovely and someone laughed I would fly into a rage and cry. I was shocked to hear this because it just shows how my illness didnt just happen but has developed from such a young age. I don’t know which of the 4 events were more damaging.