If you don't fucking want to talk, then don't fucking message me and then not even put any effort into the fucking conversation. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU ONLY TO FEEL AS IF I'M BEING IGNORED. DON'T TALK TO ME JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO, it makes me feel like SHIT trying to carry on a one-sided conversation with you. I used to do this with you, but I acknowledged it, laid out my problems, and then took your advice about taking some time off. I left YOU the fuck alone, but then you fucking message me out of the blue and try to talk?
Either fuck off or put some fucking effort into maintaining the damn friendship. Don't jerk me around. Why don't you just get the fuck away?
I want to punch a fucking hole in the wall right now. Fuck you.
A few weeks ago I picked up an old habit of mine again, and I love it. I hate it. But oh, how I love it.
Sometimes, though, the pot is the only thing that keeps me going. It is what keeps me strong. Its what keeps the blades in the drawer and a smile on my face.
One day, though, it will be like it always has been before. One day the pot won't be enough. All it will take is one bad happenstance when I'm high, one good mood killer, and I'm back where I used to be.
I can't afford to go there, but I honestly can't afford to stop.
I know I'm going to have to stop cutting again. I had been doing so well, and that streak is over. When I stop again, I'm going to have to start at day one. After going almost a year and a half without cutting, that idea is daunting.
But I like it. I'm remembering all the reasons I cut for so long. So. Long. I've been a cutter for almost half of my life. I was quitting. And now UC started again.
I know I have to stop. I know it's bad. I can't let anyone find out, because I don't want them to worry, I don't want to hurt anyone, and because in afraid they'll put me back in the hospital. And I will NOT go there.
So I know I have to stop. I know I need to stop. But I can't stop right now. Because cutting is keeping me alive.
During the couple of months of cooler weather, it occurred to me how ironic it was that I was wasting the long-sleeve wearing weather by not cutting. Now that I slipped back into it, it gets warm.
I might not be spending any time at the pool this summer.
Sometimes I find it hard to believe there's someone else who could be just as messed up as me.
My secret is not that I started cutting again.
My secret is that the fact that I started cutting again has made me okay again. It's saved me from the quickly spiraling depression that has been sucking me back with a surprising force. My secret is that cutting has saved me from killing myself.
My secret is that I don't care how fucked up this means I am.
I made a mistake two weeks ago. The repercussions of this mistake are quite big, and as yet have not been determined.
Ive been struggling with depression, self injury, and suicidal thoughts/tendencies since I was thirteen. I'm twenty-three now. I've been doing really well lately. It's been 493 days since I last cut. I'm getting my life together, I'm back in school, and I have long term plans and goals. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I can actually see a future for myself.
Two weeks ago I was forced to realize yet again how fragile all of this is. Yes, it's a big deal. But I am well aware that I am blowing this out of proportion. Suicide is an option again. It's not imminent, but I like having it there, just in case things turn out in a way I find unacceptable. I haven't cut, but after much thought I decided that I will allow myself to cut. It's been over a week, and I haven't. Yet.
I have amazing friends. If it weren't for them, I don't think I would have made it. Most of them don't realize how much I'm letting this take over my life, but they're here for me.
One friend in particular knows all of my secrets. He's the only one who really knows how much I'm struggling. He's also my manager at work.
One reason I haven't broken yet is because I've been limiting my time alone. Usually when depression hits I hibernate. This time is different. I've been spending a lot of time at work. I've been talking to my friend a lot. He makes me feel safe, and being at work makes me feel safe and gives me a sense of normalcy that I desperately need.
It seems like I have a breakdown of some sort every day. However, I've never been at home when this happens. I've never been able to cut. I had a panic attack during class, but I got through it.
I find myself swinging wildly from "everything will be okay" to "I just can't deal with this, I have to end it".
I haven't cut yet. I'm not sure I will. I'm surprised I haven't already. I know I'll regret it eventually. But it's kept me from suicide before.
I feel like I'm faking everything. I'm going through the motions of life, with school and work. I'm hanging by a thread, and I know it's going to break soon.
I'm not trying to make excuses, I was wrong. But the irony isn't lost on me that I legitimately tried to sober up before leaving this time. I learned my lesson, sure. And it was my fault.
But I just don't know what to do.
I mean, sure, I know I need to hire a lawyer. A couple of my friends know people who know good lawyers so they're helping me. I only blew a .092, and it's a first offense, so this won't ruin my life. It's a misdemeanor. It probably won't even hurt me getting into law school, too much any way.
I know these things.
But I also know I'll almost certainly lose my license after my court date in April. I know I won't be able to drive for work. My manager has assured me that we will work something out and I won't lose hours at work. So once again, everything will be okay.
I spent 18 hours in a holding cell. My parents bailed me out with my $1000. I let everyone down. Most of all myself.
I've had this horrible feeling in my stomach since my arrest. After I got home Monday night, I couldn't stop shaking. The shaking comes and goes now, along with my racing heart. Every time I see a police car, or any blue light at all, I have a mini panic attack.
There's good things too. My parents still love me. I have amazing friends. My friends have been by my side through all of this. They don't all understand how big of a deal this is to me, but regardless, the few people who know are all here for me.
I had a friend at work about a year and a half ago. We became very close very quickly. In the past year a lot has changed in his life, and it seemed like I was the only one trying to keep our friendship going. Eventually I gave up. I thought our closeness was gone, and I've been trying to adjust to that. But he's also my manager. And I knew I needed to talk to him, to find out what to tell my GM. I knew I could trust him. My phone was nearly dead when I was arrested, so I couldn't do anything when I got out until I got home to charge it. I passed the place I work on the way home, and I pulled into the parking lot to see if he was working. He was. But I realized how many people I would have to talk to, and I couldn't handle it. So I left. But they saw my car and knew it was me. Unbeknown to me, my friend who I'd called the night I was arrested had let my GM know what was up to make sure I wouldn't get fired if I didn't get out in time to show up for my next shift. And my GM had told my friend so they could cover my shifts for a couple of days. Well, when he saw me drive through the parking lot, he tried to call me. My phone was still dead. Thirty minutes later, he shows up outside my door. He stopped by on his way to a delivery to make sure I was okay and see if I would be at work. Then he came by when he got off work. And suddenly I realized that he does still care about me. He knows everything about me. He knows how fragile I am. More than anyone else, he knows I don't deal with stuff well, and even though a DUI might not seem like a big deal to him, he gets that it is to me.
He always used to make me feel safe. And Monday night he was exactly what I needed. When he left, he gave me a hug and said "I live you girl. Call me if you ever need anything. I'll be there."
His friendship is so important to me that if this is what it took for us to stop fighting at work all the time and go back to really being friends, I'm not even sure I can regret it, no matter what.
Still, it's been over a full day since I got home, and I still can't stop freaking out. I feel like curling up in a little ball and hiding from the world. I just want someone to hold me and protect me from the world because I can't handle anything.
But instead I have to get up and go to school, then work.
I haven't told you many things since that day in October, the struggle of us on the line that night after the poetry reading. I haven't said, for example, I find myself crying in coffee shops, at dance performances, in church, and I don't know if it's because of the deadening of light in the winter or because I miss you. Or, I dreamed we were together again, and it was wonderful. Or, I dreamed we were apart and we were with other people, for we will love other people, and that was wonderful too. I have not said to you that I still sleep with the toy reindeer you bought me one Christmas, or that the lights on its antlers don't light up anymore because of holding it so tight the wires came loose. Or that when we ended things I raged and cried, but later I walked free and calm through the streets, knowing we had given it our all. I haven't said for months now, as our former anniversary approaches, that I love your seagull soul, that I know you love my lighthouse self, or that I will always love, that I know you will always love me.
I rarely get responses when I post on here, but if anyone is reading this I could just use something, anything. I just want someone to listen. I am tired of being overwhelmed by fear.
I have major abandonment issues that I haven't really realized until about a year ago. My parents split when I was 5 and until high school I rarely saw my mom. Growing up this was always very difficult for me. I remember when I had my first period and my dad had no idea how to help me with that. I became very independent and tom-boyish in adolescence, but when I started dating this made things very difficult. I never felt feminine enough. I experimented with other girls, and to this day find certain females attractive. Not saying this has anything to do with my issues with my mom, but I know I always feared relationships with men.
I also had an instance of sexual abuse as a child. I won't go into detail, but this also impacted my behavior in relationships.
I went through several unstable, at times abusive, relationships over the course of my teenhood. They all ended in me getting cheated on despite my attempts to be as dedicated to the relationship as I possibly could. The highs were just as high as the lows were low, so this instability really had an negative impact on my trust. I attributed the betrayal of my partners to a fault of my own, assuming I was simply too difficult to love, not good enough, not feminine enough, not entertaining enough, etc etc. I was broken for a very long time.
Moving forward to now, I've been with my current boyfriend for 6 months. He was the first guy to "court" me, and not just attempt to proposition me for sex leading to a complicated relationship. He is by far the most understanding, kind, gentle, and loving man I have ever been with. He knows almost everything, even the things I haven't told anyone else. He loves me, and I love him unlike anyone I've ever loved before. He accepts me, even with my quirks (I have OCD and major issues with anxiety). But I am constantly filled with the fear of losing him, of him changing into someone else, of being abandoned. When he seems upset I am paranoid it is directed towards me. He is always understanding and reassuring when this happens, but I can tell it takes a toll on him. I was taken advantage of sexually about a year ago, and the resulting trauma has put a lot of stress on our relationship, but he is patient with me. I just can't seem to shake the fear. I want to enjoy this beautiful gift I've been given. He means so much to me. But I can't let go. I just want to know everything will be ok, that the fear will subside, that eventually I will trust him more than I have ever trusted anyone before.
I just had the realization that in 3 weeks it will have been one year since an experience that had a serious impact on me as a person. I was at a late new year's party with friends, drinking as per usual (and I had a designated driver of course), and somehow woke up at my apartment the next day in bed, half naked, next to a guy I barely knew, with only fragments of memories from the night before. Technically, I knew the guy, but he had been manipulating me and lying to me for weeks trying to get me to go out with him, despite telling him I had just been through a difficult breakup. I know he did something to me, but I don't know exactly what, although I can imagine. He says I was asking for it, that I drank too much, that I was lucky it was him and "not some creep or some dude with AIDs." But I had only 2 shots that night. He had to have put something in my drink.
The following months carried with them a few other traumatizing events, which I won't go into detail about here, but to summarize them I got back with my ex, ended up having to call the police on him after a violent confrontation, had to get a restraining order from him, got harassed by him AND the guy who had taken advantage of me for months, and finally was able to afford a few therapy sessions to try and get my life back on track, which led to me having to confront other issues from my childhood I've never really dealt with before. I've had issues with depression and anxiety since I was a kid, but this sent me over the edge. My grades declined, I started using drugs again, and I moved in with old friends from high school who had taken a completely different path from myself (mostly involving drugs). I basically gave up on my dreams of graduate school and decided to take some time off school to "work on myself." I ended up just working and getting intoxicated for most of the summer.
In the last 4 months I've re-registered for school, moved back home, quit drinking/smoking/using drugs, got a new job that I enjoy, and started dating a friend I've known for years who is an amazing and understanding guy who has already told me he loves me and will help me through this no matter what it takes. Things have gotten so much better for me, but I can no longer afford therapy, so I've been trying to cope on my own for the time being. Now I'm realizing it's almost been a year, so much has happened, and I've improved so much, but I'm still not at the point I want to be emotionally. I have a lot of work to do if I want to improve my GPA and have hopes of ever continuing my education and I've been so preoccupied with fears of failure lately, my boyfriend is having to help me cope in a lot of ways and he says he doesn't mind, but it's a lot of baggage and I know I can't expect him to be unaffected by it.
I just need to talk to someone. I'm trying to seem happy around my family as I don't want to put a damper on the holidays. None of my friends really know about what I've been through recently. They just think I up and quit school and went of the deep end, so a lot of them haven't spoken to me in several months. Even most of my family members have no clue. Just a couple of my immediate family members know about everything, and even they don't know some of the details.
I can't get that night off my mind. The more I think about it the more fucked up it seems. The more scared I feel. The more weak and helpless I feel. I didn't deserve it. I was being safe, I didn't drink very much, and somehow it still happened. He put something in my drink, and my "friends" didn't do anything about it. I had plans, I had dreams. And it's not anyone's fault but my own that I let all of this ruin my dreams. I should have told someone. I should have taken time off school before my grades went down. I shouldn't have gotten back together with my ex. So many thoughts of should and shouldn't haves cross my mind every day. I just want to have a peaceful Christmas, and I just want to be myself again, but I've been wearing a mask for months just to seem like I'm normal so everyone doesn't worry anymore. It's been long enough.