The phrase "start as you mean to go on" is bouncing through my head and i
figure if i don't make myself go to sleep i will listen to the fact
that i can't go on so don't want to start 2013.
i have the means, motive and have been fighting my illogical logic for quite some time now...
i will fight.
i am not as ugly as i imagine.
i KNOW others have it worse...
i have to fight because no one can pick up the pieces if i were to do what would make the pain stop.
they'd carry on, sure, but i'm not so sure you 'get over' any death, least of all when it's at the person's own hands...
Monday 31 December 2012
the way i see things...
in everyone's head there's a little button to self-destruct
many think about it; others never have
some have pressed it and quickly clicked it back off again
some haven't had the ability to pop it out again, once theirs has been pressed (these would be the 'impulsive jumpers' -nothing's stopping that free-fall buddy!)
for some folk they obsess about it and it consumes them "should i press it" "no, i can't press it" -pfft just press it and let the debate end -that's no way to live anyway!
many think about it; others never have
some have pressed it and quickly clicked it back off again
some haven't had the ability to pop it out again, once theirs has been pressed (these would be the 'impulsive jumpers' -nothing's stopping that free-fall buddy!)
for some folk they obsess about it and it consumes them "should i press it" "no, i can't press it" -pfft just press it and let the debate end -that's no way to live anyway!
swirly head time
sitting, lying down, crawling, walking -it's all sore.
can i really be bothered with it all for yet another year -nothing changes, and if it ever does (which, yes, i realise is a contradiction) it's to my detriment.
stupid luck.
used to think that luck didn't exist.
that things were set in stone...or that everything was written in the "book of life" of stars or whateveri used to think...
but now i don't think
it's a scrambled mess in my brain -that is assuming i have one..and just because i have the ability to speak or type or form any kind of sentence doesn't mean i have a brain (I KNOW AN AWFUL LOT OF FOLK WHO ARE ABE TO DO THOSE THINGS AND HAVE NO BRAIN!!)
stupid head.
memories are jumbled.
time is swirled in a big mess and it makes me think of the words to Windmills of Your Mind -is that what that song's about?!!
Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
How do other people do it?
get up, get dressed, manage to make it through an entire day without bursting into tears for no reason -or for every reason?
how can other people watch the news and not want to throw themselves under a train for all the atrocities occurring in this sick sad world?
how do other people watch a film with a character who gets away with all the bad things they do and not want to put their hand right through the screen?
how is it that other people can accept things that make me want to take a blade and cut til i am too sore to hold it anymore? or see what's underneath? ...and then past that??
is it what i expect??
Sunday 30 December 2012
Susanna Kaysen's Quotes
“Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It's you or
me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished
you could be a child forever.”
***
“Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't
something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting
used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A
successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of
which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.”
***
“Scar tissue has no character. It's not like skin. It doesn't show
age or illness or pallor or tan. It has no pores, no hair, no wrinkles. It's like a slip cover. It shields and disguises what's beneath. That's why we grow it; we have something to hide. ”
***
“I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.”
***
“Why did she do it? Nobody dared to ask. Because - what courage!
Who had the courage to burn herself? Twenty aspirin, a little slit
alongside the veins of the arm, maybe even a bad half hour standing on a
roof: We've all had those. And somewhat more dangerous things, like
putting a gun in your mouth. But you put it there, you taste it, it's
cold and greasy, your finger is on the trigger, and you find that a
whole world lies between this moment and the moment you've been
planning, when you'll pull the trigger. That world defeats you. You put
the gun back in the drawer. You'll have to find another way.
What was that moment like for her? The moment she lit the match. Had she already tried roofs and guns and aspirins? Or was it just an inspiration?
I had an inspiration once. I woke up one morning and I knew that today I had to swallow fifty aspirin. It was my task: my job for the day. I lined them up on my desk and took them one by one, counting. But it's not the same as what she did. I could have stopped, at ten, or at thirty. And I could have done what I did do, which was go onto the street and faint. Fifty aspirin is a lot of aspirin, but going onto the street and fainting is like putting the gun back in the drawer.
She lit the match.”
What was that moment like for her? The moment she lit the match. Had she already tried roofs and guns and aspirins? Or was it just an inspiration?
I had an inspiration once. I woke up one morning and I knew that today I had to swallow fifty aspirin. It was my task: my job for the day. I lined them up on my desk and took them one by one, counting. But it's not the same as what she did. I could have stopped, at ten, or at thirty. And I could have done what I did do, which was go onto the street and faint. Fifty aspirin is a lot of aspirin, but going onto the street and fainting is like putting the gun back in the drawer.
She lit the match.”
***
“Was I ever crazy? Maybe. Or maybe life is… Crazy isn’t being
broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. If you
ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child
forever. They were not perfect, but they were my friends.”
***
“When you’re sad you need to hear your sorrow structured into sound.”
***
“Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part
that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and
made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.”
***
“The only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy.”
***
“Lunatics are similar to designated hitters. Often an entire
family is crazy, but since an entire family can't go into the hospital,
one person is designated as crazy and goes inside. Then, depending on
how the rest of the family is feeling that person is kept inside or
snatched out, to prove something about the family's mental health.”
***
“I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How
you try to fit in but you can't. How you hurt yourself on the outside to
try to kill the thing on the inside.”
***
“Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something
when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train
moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was the
60's. Or maybe I was just a girl... interrupted.”
***
“I told her once I wasn’t good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.”
***
“Whatever we call it - mind, character, soul - we like to think we
possess something that is greater than the sum of our neurons and that
animates us.”
***
“The point is, the brain talks to itself, and by talking to itself
changes its perceptions. To make a new version of the
not-entirely-false model, imagine the first interpreter as a foreign
correspondent, reporting from the world. The world in this case means
everything out- or inside our bodies, including serotonin levels in the
brain. The second interpreter is a news analyst, who writes op-ed
pieces. They read each other's work. One needs data, the other needs an
overview; they influence each other. They get dialogues going.
INTERPRETER ONE: Pain in the left foot, back of heel.
INTERPRETER TWO: I believe that's because the shoe is too tight.
INTERPRETER ONE: Checked that. Took off the shoe. Foot still hurts.
INTERPRETER TWO: Did you look at it?
INTERPRETER ONE: Looking. It's red.
INTERPRETER TWO: No blood?
INTERPRETER ONE: Nope.
INTERPRETER TWO: Forget about it.
INTERPRETER ONE: Okay.
Mental illness seems to be a communication problem between interpreters one and two.
An exemplary piece of confusion.
INTERPRETER ONE: There's a tiger in the corner.
INTERPRETER TWO: No, that's not a tiger- that's a bureau.
INTERPRETER ONE: It's a tiger, it's a tiger!
INTERPRETER TWO: Don't be ridiculous. Let's go look at it.
Then all the dendrites and neurons and serotonin levels and interpreters collect themselves and trot over to the corner.
If you are not crazy, the second interpreter's assertion, that this is a bureau, will be acceptable to the first interpreter. If you are crazy, the first interpreter's viewpoint, the tiger theory, will prevail.
The trouble here is that the first interpreter actually sees a tiger. The messages sent between neurons are incorrect somehow. The chemicals triggered are the wrong chemicals, or the impulses are going to the wrong connections. Apparently, this happens often, but the second interpreter jumps in to straighten things out.”
INTERPRETER ONE: Pain in the left foot, back of heel.
INTERPRETER TWO: I believe that's because the shoe is too tight.
INTERPRETER ONE: Checked that. Took off the shoe. Foot still hurts.
INTERPRETER TWO: Did you look at it?
INTERPRETER ONE: Looking. It's red.
INTERPRETER TWO: No blood?
INTERPRETER ONE: Nope.
INTERPRETER TWO: Forget about it.
INTERPRETER ONE: Okay.
Mental illness seems to be a communication problem between interpreters one and two.
An exemplary piece of confusion.
INTERPRETER ONE: There's a tiger in the corner.
INTERPRETER TWO: No, that's not a tiger- that's a bureau.
INTERPRETER ONE: It's a tiger, it's a tiger!
INTERPRETER TWO: Don't be ridiculous. Let's go look at it.
Then all the dendrites and neurons and serotonin levels and interpreters collect themselves and trot over to the corner.
If you are not crazy, the second interpreter's assertion, that this is a bureau, will be acceptable to the first interpreter. If you are crazy, the first interpreter's viewpoint, the tiger theory, will prevail.
The trouble here is that the first interpreter actually sees a tiger. The messages sent between neurons are incorrect somehow. The chemicals triggered are the wrong chemicals, or the impulses are going to the wrong connections. Apparently, this happens often, but the second interpreter jumps in to straighten things out.”
“Don’t ask me those questions! Don’t ask me what life means or how
we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Don’t talk about how
nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining
like oil in the sun. I don’t want to hear about the tiger in the corner
or the Angel of Death or the phone calls from John the Baptist.”
***
“Suicide is a form of murder— premeditated murder. It isn’t
something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes some
getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A
successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of
which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.
It’s important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there’s a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there’s a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. If there’s a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. These exercises are necessary to achieving the proper distance.
The debate was wearing me out. Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't. Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark—why not kill myself? Missed the bus—better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie—maybe I shouldn’t kill myself.
In reality, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.”
It’s important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there’s a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there’s a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. If there’s a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. These exercises are necessary to achieving the proper distance.
The debate was wearing me out. Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't. Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark—why not kill myself? Missed the bus—better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie—maybe I shouldn’t kill myself.
In reality, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.”
***
“It was a spring day, the sort that gives people hope: all soft winds and delicate smells of
warm earth. Suicide weather.”
warm earth. Suicide weather.”
***
“My family had a lot of characteristics - achievements, ambitions,
talents, expectations - that all seemed to be recessive in me.”
***
“It's a long way from not having enough serotonin to thinking the
world is "stale, flat and unprofitable"; even further to writing a play
about a man driven by that thought. ”
***
“Was everybody seeing this stuff and acting as though they weren't? Was insanity just a matter of dropping the act?”
***
“Viscosity and velocity are opposites, yet they can look the same. Viscosity causes the stillness of
disinclination, velocity causes the stillness of fascination. An observer can't tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy.”
disinclination, velocity causes the stillness of fascination. An observer can't tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy.”
***
“I was trying to explain my situation to myself. My situation was
that I was in pain and nobody knew it, even I had trouble knowing it. So
I told myself, over and over, You are in pain. It was the only way I
could get through to myself. I was demonstrating externally and
irrefutably an inward condition.”
***
“Tell me that you don’t take that blade and drag it across your skin and pray for the courage to press down.”
***
“Disease is one of our languages. Doctors
understand what disease has to say about itself. It's up to the person
with the disease to understand what the disease has to say to her.”
***
“The girl at her music sits in another sort of light,the
fitful,overcast light of lie,by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom..”
***
“This behavior may...counteract feelings of 'numbness' and
depersonalization that arise during periods of extreme stress.”
***
“When I was supposed to be awake, I was asleep. When I was
supposed to sleep, I was silent. When a pleasure offered itself to me, I
avoided it.”
***
“The debate was wearing me out. Once you've posed that question,
it won't go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the
debate about whether they will or they won't. Anything I thought or did
was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark—why not
kill myself? Missed the bus—better put an end to it all. Even the good
got in there. I liked that movie—maybe I shouldn’t kill myself.”
***
“It's a fairly accurate portrait of me at eighteen, minus a few
quirks like reckless driving and eating binges. It's accurate but it
isn't profound.”
***
“In a strange way we were free. We'd reached the end of the line.
We had nothing more to lose. Our privacy, our liberty, our dignity: all
of this was gone and we were stripped down to the bare bones of our
selves”
***
“Emptiness and boredom: what an understatement. What I felt was complete desolation. Desolation, despair, and depression.
Isn't there some other way to look at this? After all, angst of these dimensions is a luxury item. You need to be well fed, clothes, and housed to have time for this much self-pity.”
Isn't there some other way to look at this? After all, angst of these dimensions is a luxury item. You need to be well fed, clothes, and housed to have time for this much self-pity.”
***
“Our hospital was famous and housed many great poets and singers.
Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers or was it that poets
and singers specialized in madness?”
***
“Are you crazy? It's a common phrase, I know. But it means
something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the
plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all
boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not want to cross it
again.”
***
“In the parallel universe the laws of physics are suspended.
What goes up does not necessarily come down, a body at rest does not tend to stay at
rest and not every action can be counted on to provoke an equal and opposite reaction.
Time, 'too, is different. It may run in circles, flow backward, skip about from now to
then. The very arrangement of molecules is fluid: Tables can be clocks, faces,
flowers.”
What goes up does not necessarily come down, a body at rest does not tend to stay at
rest and not every action can be counted on to provoke an equal and opposite reaction.
Time, 'too, is different. It may run in circles, flow backward, skip about from now to
then. The very arrangement of molecules is fluid: Tables can be clocks, faces,
flowers.”
***
Saturday 29 December 2012
In another world
In another world i could be smiling
In another world i could be free
In another world i could be happy
In another world i could be me
In another world dreams would come easily
In another world dreams might bring joy
In another world dreams couldn't frighten me
In another world dreams wouldn't destroy
In another world no one would hate
In another world no one would lie
In another world no one would hurt
In another world no one would cry
In another world people would believe me
In another world justice would reign
In another world there'd be only love
In another world there'd be no pain
~MQ
In another world i could be free
In another world i could be happy
In another world i could be me
In another world dreams would come easily
In another world dreams might bring joy
In another world dreams couldn't frighten me
In another world dreams wouldn't destroy
In another world no one would hate
In another world no one would lie
In another world no one would hurt
In another world no one would cry
In another world people would believe me
In another world justice would reign
In another world there'd be only love
In another world there'd be no pain
~MQ
i need to keep saying this over and over to myself
Is Borderline Personality Disorder a Mental Illness?
Yes. A
mental illness is an illness that primarily affects a person’s
behaviour, as opposed to their physical well-being. BPD is considered by
medical practitioners to be a severe psychiatric disorder and is
recognised as such by the DSM IV.
Often,
mental illness is not taken as seriously as physiological illness, even
though it is very common and can be very debilitating. It is often
viewed as moodiness, craziness or a weakness, when it is in fact a
genuine illness that can be caused by physiological factors. People have
as little control over the development of a mental illness as they do
over whether they catch a cold or not. As with physical illness, mental
illness requires treatment, and is not something that someone can just
will to go away.
BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) Mnemonic
Just found a mnemonic for BPD...wow!!
PRAISE...
P - Paranoid ideas
R - Relationship instability
A - Angry outbursts / Affective instabilty / Abandonment fears
I - Impulsive behaviour / Identity disturbance
S - Suicidal behaviour
E - Emptiness
wow!Just. WOW!
PRAISE...
P - Paranoid ideas
R - Relationship instability
A - Angry outbursts / Affective instabilty / Abandonment fears
I - Impulsive behaviour / Identity disturbance
S - Suicidal behaviour
E - Emptiness
wow!Just. WOW!
cradle Catholic, never missed a Mass or Holyday of Obligation... and now...??
i'm not so sure i'm going to get to heaven anymore
this past year i failed epically...at everything.
i guess i just fell apart
got a call from a CPN (Clinical Psychiatric Nurse) because i had called the GP and been
this past year i failed epically...at everything.
i guess i just fell apart
as apart as anyone can fall
had the mental health crisis team out on 3 occasions -for a daily visit each day for a fortnight each time
talking utter gibberish on the phone to them but i could feel it was gibberish, wish is an improvement i guess -last
time i was adamant i was talking fine and they were having the problem
i feel like a failure
i guess i just am a failure
i've been in psychotherapy for more than half my life now and i feel like i am much much worse than...ever
i thought after diagnoses (what the heck's the plural of that word?!!That soooo doesn't look right!) i would feel better, understood, not alone...
i guess i'm only now starting to even think about getting my head round them
the ones i figure are the most debiliating for me in terms of my mental health just now are:
my current therapist AND social worker were very very distressed for me when i stopped going to Mass...i feel nothing...about anything...
i feel like a failure
i guess i just am a failure
i've been in psychotherapy for more than half my life now and i feel like i am much much worse than...ever
i thought after diagnoses (what the heck's the plural of that word?!!That soooo doesn't look right!) i would feel better, understood, not alone...
i guess i'm only now starting to even think about getting my head round them
i didn't want to be labelled and i desperately did at the same time
but i know if it helps it's a good thing
i'm just not sure if it will help
the ones i figure are the most debiliating for me in terms of my mental health just now are:
- borderline personality disorder -which at first i said everyone would be classed as having it given the criterion ...and then i said it wasn't me...but now...
also.
- agoraphobia -i don't even like to pass my door anymore -it gives me chills and i can't actually explain it. the only way i get out the door anymore is to cut myself immediately beforehand.
- ptsd
- EDNOS (Eating Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified) ...i don't even remember the last time i ate...and i don't care
my current therapist AND social worker were very very distressed for me when i stopped going to Mass...i feel nothing...about anything...
d'you know
-those2were more concerned that i stopped going to Mass than when i made
and used a noose?...wow...i still can't say or type those words.what i
did. this year.
i was so bad
i have been so bad...
and i'm in that place once again...
i cut and burn me -i must have upset Him so much because i've done this so many times and my body's supposed to be a temple for the holy spirit.
plus there's been one set of footprints in my sand this year and He must be knackered and sick of carrying me by now.
he has the whole world with real problems to carry -he doesn't need me adding to it when i'm adding to mine by myself and mine are of my own doing.
i know everyone has their pains, their stresses and strains, their 'baggage' ...but when i think of folk i know who've had similar pains to mine and they are still able to function and cope and get up in the morning, get dressed, smile, be bouncy and cheery -and then there's me sitting here typing this and fighting every urge to go unbury that rope...
i can't fight anymore -i really am so exhausted -physically, mentally, emotionally...
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have let Him down but, because I lost my faith.
what if he planned me to not be here.
i feel like i've overstayed my welcome
maybe all these medical interventions shouldn't've happened
my heart's all broke and bits are gone so it can't be fixed....i'm like the cookie at the bottom of the packet -all crumbled and broken beyond repair
and i'm in that place once again...
i cut and burn me -i must have upset Him so much because i've done this so many times and my body's supposed to be a temple for the holy spirit.
plus there's been one set of footprints in my sand this year and He must be knackered and sick of carrying me by now.
he has the whole world with real problems to carry -he doesn't need me adding to it when i'm adding to mine by myself and mine are of my own doing.
i know everyone has their pains, their stresses and strains, their 'baggage' ...but when i think of folk i know who've had similar pains to mine and they are still able to function and cope and get up in the morning, get dressed, smile, be bouncy and cheery -and then there's me sitting here typing this and fighting every urge to go unbury that rope...
i can't fight anymore -i really am so exhausted -physically, mentally, emotionally...
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have let Him down but, because I lost my faith.
what if he planned me to not be here.
i feel like i've overstayed my welcome
maybe all these medical interventions shouldn't've happened
my heart's all broke and bits are gone so it can't be fixed....i'm like the cookie at the bottom of the packet -all crumbled and broken beyond repair
i am sorry for having shared too much here
sharing it only spreads the sadness
the local parish priest couldn't make time for me and fobbed me off so too did the other 3 in the next 3 nearest parishes
even me -i'm not here, here's not a place... it's all just stories.
i give up with punctuation now -blah...
the local parish priest couldn't make time for me and fobbed me off so too did the other 3 in the next 3 nearest parishes
i'm pretty far gone -i'm fair in the devil's grip...got me thinking that all this is made up
everything
pretend
faith -just stories
faith -just stories
i give up with punctuation now -blah...
but when i hurt me
i know i'm real
and if i am
then my friends are
but then i think i have none
my brain and head and heart have melted
i haven't anything to give
just me -and i'm not anything special.
i can hold a tune but i'll never be a superstar (not that i'd want that anyway...but, still...you know what i mean.. i'm ok at it, not amazing or anything)
just me -and i'm not anything special.
i can hold a tune but i'll never be a superstar (not that i'd want that anyway...but, still...you know what i mean.. i'm ok at it, not amazing or anything)
just my voice
and nobody needs or wants me to sing...or talk...
it's all i can do
and it ain't needed
i thought it was a lesson in how i could do other things
but instead i do nothing...
i really can't be fixed
the
way i feel is supposedly all 'classic' to the way someone diagnosed
with bpd feels and the last conversation with my therapist left me
feeling worse about that fact...
you know how you should only share with folk who know you...i don't even know me -how could anybody else...my brain's giving me illogical logic -saying that my friends aren't my friends...but then when i try to make it logical and say if they're my friends, they're my friends shut up brain -well...it just doesn't work that way
HOW PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW WOULD YOU BE WITH ME IF YOU THOUGHT OF US AS FRIENDS AND READ THIS?!!! I'D HATE ME TOO...Oh, wait...
you know how you should only share with folk who know you...i don't even know me -how could anybody else...my brain's giving me illogical logic -saying that my friends aren't my friends...but then when i try to make it logical and say if they're my friends, they're my friends shut up brain -well...it just doesn't work that way
HOW PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW WOULD YOU BE WITH ME IF YOU THOUGHT OF US AS FRIENDS AND READ THIS?!!! I'D HATE ME TOO...Oh, wait...
this past year i pretty much shut down beyond reach now
and the only logical conclusion is
well
unmentionable i guess
and the only logical conclusion is
well
unmentionable i guess
afraid
i'm not afraid of cancer
or a mugger
or dogs
or of germs
or the dark
or being hated
or alone
i'm afraid of me
or a mugger
or dogs
or of germs
or the dark
or being hated
or alone
i'm afraid of me
Friday 28 December 2012
why don't i just do it?
i keep asking myself that...
why don't i just take my own life...why don't i just tie the rope up and not call anyone this time...just commit suicide already you're only a waste of everything -resources, time, money, effort...do it already, just shut up and kill yourself.now.
...and the answer is only because
1. someone has to find you and sort through the mess of what you've done
2. family and friends would be left hurt (but then i think that's vain to think that)
...and one night i had things in place...
...and found this..
THE AFTERMATH OF SUICIDE
I had never experienced the death of a close loved
one before my brother died. When David died, my
world came cashing down around me, shattering me
into a million pieces. My brother and I were close, but
I had no suspicion he was contemplating suicide and
had been for a long time. The night my sister called to
tell me he was dead is etched in my memory forever.
If I shut my eyes, I can go back to that time and place
almost three years ago and still hear her voice. It is a
very painful memory and one that I don’t call up, but
it is there nonetheless.
The overwhelming feelings of shock, disbelief,
numbness, despair, and sadness are very vivid. At the
same time, I was outraged at what he had done to
us, to me. How dare he do this! I couldn’t even begin
to guess how many times I said, “I can’t believe this is
happening.”
The first ix months was a confusing and emotionally
draining period for me. I was obsessed with wanting to
have answers, especially from him. I read many books
on suicide and finally, after reading Iris Bolton’s book
My Son, My Son, I came to realize that what she said
was true; “You can ask why a million times but you
finally have to let it go, because the person you need
answers from is not here to give them to you. If only for
the sake of your own sanity, you have to stop asking
why.
Our family drew closer together from this tragedy, and
it made me more aware of how much I value and
love them. I also had the support of a good friend
who was willing to spend hours talking and crying with
me. I still get very angry with my brother for changing
our lives so irrevocably. That anger inevitably turns
into sadness. I cannot see his smiling face, or hear
his laughter, or watch him grow into adulthood. Yes, I
had dreams for him too. He was an intelligent, warm,
sensitive and caring young man…., and I was eager
to see what direction his life would take. I can’t help
wonder what he would be like today. I miss him very
much.
I will never agree with his solution, but it was his
choice to make and I have to learn to live with it. I am
absolutely certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt that
I will see him again. Only then will I get answers to my
questions. I have no choice but to wait until that time.
~Nicki Wright
..and this...
MY FIRST FIVE YEARS AS AN ONLY CHILD
I’ve been without my brother for five years. I guess
the hard part is over now. Sometimes I think I’ve aged
thirty years in the past five. In a strange way, ,these
past five years have been the best and the worst
of my life. I’ve accomplished the many things of a
typical young adult – learning to drive, graduating
from high school, going to college, and starting a
career. Every one of my accomplishments has been
clouded by the fact that my brother George is not
here to share each milestone and is not achieving
any more milestones for himself. He was cheated of
so many things. He will never graduate, get married,
have children, or travel. He will never grow old and I
will never have a brother to grow old with. I’ll never
have nieces and nephews. The sibling relationship,
usually the longest relationship in one’s life, has been
cut short for us. In these five years, although I’ve
learned to accept that he’s not coming back, the
difficult part is dealing with it day by day.
My relationship with George ended just when we
started to become friends. The childish fights and other
annoyances of having a big brother were changing
to real conversations and to having an occasional
ally. I’m angry about all the things that we’ve missed
and all of the things that will never be, and I guess I
always will be. Five years heals a lot of wounds, but
the hurt will always be there, no matter how many
years pass. In these past five years, I’ve been forced to
grow up too fast. I’ve been forced into a new outlook
on life. I’ve felt lonely and alone. I now realize that I
will never be the same person as before. That person
is locked away and gone forever. Maybe I’m a better
person now because of what I’ve been through. Five
years ago I never thought I’d survive, but I’m still here
dealing with it every day. I don’t know what the next
five years will bring, but at least I’ve made it this far.
~Kristina Steiner
why don't i just take my own life...why don't i just tie the rope up and not call anyone this time...just commit suicide already you're only a waste of everything -resources, time, money, effort...do it already, just shut up and kill yourself.now.
...and the answer is only because
1. someone has to find you and sort through the mess of what you've done
2. family and friends would be left hurt (but then i think that's vain to think that)
...and one night i had things in place...
...and found this..
THE AFTERMATH OF SUICIDE
I had never experienced the death of a close loved
one before my brother died. When David died, my
world came cashing down around me, shattering me
into a million pieces. My brother and I were close, but
I had no suspicion he was contemplating suicide and
had been for a long time. The night my sister called to
tell me he was dead is etched in my memory forever.
If I shut my eyes, I can go back to that time and place
almost three years ago and still hear her voice. It is a
very painful memory and one that I don’t call up, but
it is there nonetheless.
The overwhelming feelings of shock, disbelief,
numbness, despair, and sadness are very vivid. At the
same time, I was outraged at what he had done to
us, to me. How dare he do this! I couldn’t even begin
to guess how many times I said, “I can’t believe this is
happening.”
The first ix months was a confusing and emotionally
draining period for me. I was obsessed with wanting to
have answers, especially from him. I read many books
on suicide and finally, after reading Iris Bolton’s book
My Son, My Son, I came to realize that what she said
was true; “You can ask why a million times but you
finally have to let it go, because the person you need
answers from is not here to give them to you. If only for
the sake of your own sanity, you have to stop asking
why.
Our family drew closer together from this tragedy, and
it made me more aware of how much I value and
love them. I also had the support of a good friend
who was willing to spend hours talking and crying with
me. I still get very angry with my brother for changing
our lives so irrevocably. That anger inevitably turns
into sadness. I cannot see his smiling face, or hear
his laughter, or watch him grow into adulthood. Yes, I
had dreams for him too. He was an intelligent, warm,
sensitive and caring young man…., and I was eager
to see what direction his life would take. I can’t help
wonder what he would be like today. I miss him very
much.
I will never agree with his solution, but it was his
choice to make and I have to learn to live with it. I am
absolutely certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt that
I will see him again. Only then will I get answers to my
questions. I have no choice but to wait until that time.
~Nicki Wright
..and this...
MY FIRST FIVE YEARS AS AN ONLY CHILD
I’ve been without my brother for five years. I guess
the hard part is over now. Sometimes I think I’ve aged
thirty years in the past five. In a strange way, ,these
past five years have been the best and the worst
of my life. I’ve accomplished the many things of a
typical young adult – learning to drive, graduating
from high school, going to college, and starting a
career. Every one of my accomplishments has been
clouded by the fact that my brother George is not
here to share each milestone and is not achieving
any more milestones for himself. He was cheated of
so many things. He will never graduate, get married,
have children, or travel. He will never grow old and I
will never have a brother to grow old with. I’ll never
have nieces and nephews. The sibling relationship,
usually the longest relationship in one’s life, has been
cut short for us. In these five years, although I’ve
learned to accept that he’s not coming back, the
difficult part is dealing with it day by day.
My relationship with George ended just when we
started to become friends. The childish fights and other
annoyances of having a big brother were changing
to real conversations and to having an occasional
ally. I’m angry about all the things that we’ve missed
and all of the things that will never be, and I guess I
always will be. Five years heals a lot of wounds, but
the hurt will always be there, no matter how many
years pass. In these past five years, I’ve been forced to
grow up too fast. I’ve been forced into a new outlook
on life. I’ve felt lonely and alone. I now realize that I
will never be the same person as before. That person
is locked away and gone forever. Maybe I’m a better
person now because of what I’ve been through. Five
years ago I never thought I’d survive, but I’m still here
dealing with it every day. I don’t know what the next
five years will bring, but at least I’ve made it this far.
~Kristina Steiner
Thursday 27 December 2012
how i know my 'professionals' hate me
-there isn't 1 set GP but a whole bunch...so they all don't give a monkeys about the overall health of anyone which is probably fine for most folk when they have the odd spell off illness over their lifetime or maybe one a year...
-i annoy them constantly *for asthma problems *when i run out of meds because i can't stay on top of them no matter what i try and they can't understand what i mean when i say that *
-the receptionists ask really annoyingly awkward questions and get really angry when you can't give a simple answer, which i DO want to do but their questions don't allow me to give a simple answer
-orthopaedics...been released, talked about an op for almost 2 years then suddenly discharged me
-crisis team gave me a number to call and when i did for the 2nd time i was told i wasn't allowed to call it
pain is unreal!! AND NOBODY WILL LISTEN!!
-physio, didn't ge any til more than 6months after my injury..then was sent on to a different place coz local one said they were only for short-term and simple cases!Charmed, I'm sure...was told i'd get hydrotherapy a year and a half ago...still waiting! (was changed to a guy physio when one at pain physio dept went on maternity leave -even when i'd asked not to attend a guy and there is only one male in the whole bloody physio dept!)
-respiratory -says i haven't been in over a year -this isn't true!!!Been there this year more than once!!
-anaesthetics -appt kept getting pushed back anyway they clearly don't want me to attend
...the overwhelming conclusion is that everyone is working together to get me to die at my own hand and save expense and time and effort across the board -plus they'd all be blameless!
I am a chameleon
i feel like i don't know how to behave.
i don't know i am. or that i am. (the only time i am sure i am here is when i hurt me).
Even when i'm around family -you're supposed to be able to be you round them aren't you?
I am different people around different people.
And very different when with 1 person when compared to when i'm in a big group.
i don't know if it's because i think people want me to behave a certain way when i'm with them or
if i just have no personality or behaviours of my own -does anyone? Isn't everything anyone does just learned behaviour and skills?
...and when i'm alone? ...i just exist.
i need people to make me behave but they make me behave the way they need me to.
stupid head
i don't know i am. or that i am. (the only time i am sure i am here is when i hurt me).
Even when i'm around family -you're supposed to be able to be you round them aren't you?
I am different people around different people.
And very different when with 1 person when compared to when i'm in a big group.
i don't know if it's because i think people want me to behave a certain way when i'm with them or
if i just have no personality or behaviours of my own -does anyone? Isn't everything anyone does just learned behaviour and skills?
...and when i'm alone? ...i just exist.
i need people to make me behave but they make me behave the way they need me to.
stupid head
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