I’m trying to be OK but I don’t know that I’m managing to be. I’m not in my head; I don’t know where I am but it’s not in my head. I have yet to be able to get in touch with mental health out of hours or (long story short my family see me doing that as me telling the world they’re not taking care of me. No matter how I’ve tried to explain that would be far from the case, I’m just not allowed the landline -you have to call from a landline and they call you back, it’s all such a rigmarole).
I am OK. Day to day it changes, as it does for everyone, I know. Nights are ...interesting, we shall go with interesting... Very erratic and dependant on so many factors, of which I have zero control.
When I manage to drift off it’s so horrible that I wake myself screaming -and my family, and possibly the neighbours and goodness knows what animals are thinking I’m some other creature’s dinner...
I’m trying to be OK but I’ve become more of a burden than ever. I most definitely don’t like the fact that everything seems so far-fetched that it cannot possibly be true; if my life over the last few years had been a soap plot line for one character there’d be mass outrage at the insanity of it. (Yet when it’s being lived there is no public outcry... Good God! Not that I’d want that! I just mean... I don’t know what I mean...) I’m sorry you know stuff. I’m sorry to add to the toxicity of this world by just being in a room and people knowing things. It feels like everyone knows everything but I know that’s not the case. Very few people actually know and I’ve not spoken about it (with the exception of having given a statement-where two police officers and an appropriate adult(!) appeared at my door and I dissociated so badly that I have almost no recollection of any of the SEVEN HOURS I was with them!)
Dissociation is both good and bad.
My inability to recollect specifics is telling me he is a stranger; my ‘dreams’ are not...
Friday 13 April 2018
Homeless and disabled in Glasgow
Being homeless and disabled is... there isn’t an adequate word... I’m going with interesting because I refuse to spend hours fretting over one word... again.
Right now I am exhausted in every way possible.
I was put in a terrible predicament that triggered my BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and caused me to flip the switch in my head where I jump a million steps and go straight to ‘what if I can’t get to a shop to get food from a homeless unit I’m put in because it’s not accessible and have a day/week/month where I’m unable to ask for help with that...
so I was told, because I mentioned something (going to panic-causing events in my head caused me to say that I just wanted to stop existing) that caused the police officers to not be allowed to let me stay anywhere on my own.
I’m now in a place where I am crawling and being shouted at for doing so.
To get somewhere to stay I’ve to apply to each and every housing authority, if I’d like to stay in that area, fill in all the long-ass forms, AND EXPLAIN WHY I NEED TO MOVE.
Brilliant.
I’m done.
I cannot possibly do that.
Oh, why were the police involved? I was assaulted. In the flat I stayed in. Alone.
I thought he had come to kill me.
I wish he had.
I’ve not to stay in that flat under police instruction.
This is all too much.
Right now I am exhausted in every way possible.
I was put in a terrible predicament that triggered my BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and caused me to flip the switch in my head where I jump a million steps and go straight to ‘what if I can’t get to a shop to get food from a homeless unit I’m put in because it’s not accessible and have a day/week/month where I’m unable to ask for help with that...
so I was told, because I mentioned something (going to panic-causing events in my head caused me to say that I just wanted to stop existing) that caused the police officers to not be allowed to let me stay anywhere on my own.
I’m now in a place where I am crawling and being shouted at for doing so.
To get somewhere to stay I’ve to apply to each and every housing authority, if I’d like to stay in that area, fill in all the long-ass forms, AND EXPLAIN WHY I NEED TO MOVE.
Brilliant.
I’m done.
I cannot possibly do that.
Oh, why were the police involved? I was assaulted. In the flat I stayed in. Alone.
I thought he had come to kill me.
I wish he had.
I’ve not to stay in that flat under police instruction.
This is all too much.
Tuesday 13 March 2018
I would like to disappear but it’s not selfish
I’ve just found an old school friend online. Saw she is married which was nice, two beautiful children, then I saw to whom she is married...and I broke more inside. How can this thing even still sustain me? Why can’t it give in and nobody needs to feel shame from suicide or think I was selfish (my being here still is a double-edged sword) I want to be productive, I want to be helpful, I WANT SO DESPERATELY to be ...better? Ok? Not a burden? Something...
I’m not allowed to live in my flat (as per police instructions) my mobility equipment and my wheelchair are there. I am in so much extra pain because I don’t have these things.
I’ve been called fat twice today, in the place where I’m having to stay tonight, I don’t want to eat ever again. I can’t be the stone round the neck of all who meet me. I don’t want to be. I’m not CHOOSING to be!!! When you can only fully weight bear on one leg and ‘proper’ cleaning involves climbing over a bathtub-seems tiny, it tough and the way out is downright dangerous.
The last attacker took more of my dignity but needing to push that aside when needing help in/out tub to wash. Then more comments are made on my ‘newer’ scars and weight. I have no sharp things to get by the way I had been... other’s are allowed their alcohol or cigarettes... why is mine so dramatically different and disgusting? Why is my vice the worst? Who decides these things?
Wish there was a way vanishing didn’t leave someone with clean up or work or... whatever
Wednesday 7 March 2018
Constant pain - physical and mental
I’m VERY lost in my head... in the insanity of it all.
CRPS pain has increased lately and sleep had already been suffering prior to that ... NOW? It’s VERY MUCH
‘catch it when you can’ and I feel trapped.
Trapped in a broken body.
Trapped in an overwhelmingly messed up and messed with head.
Trapped in this circle of pain, physical and mental...and a physical pain from a mental pain (I swear if a doctor talks about psychosomatic pain again I will just lie on their floor, I’d say weeping but I’ve lost that ability as of late...) (that particular pain I’m talking about has been with me for as long as I can remember-I think since the age of 8...)
Now I’m not working and I’ve been waiting 13months for an appeal by the powers that be who decided I had suddenly gained the ability to walk fine overnight and removed my mobility car... I’m more of a burden than ever.
I cannot see me working again.
Every time I think it’s going well? BAM! Kicked right back beyond the starting position in the wrong direction and not knowing which way is up...
I’m a burden on my family who love me but have their own lives.
I continue to return to the illogical logic of knowing that my birthday would be a completely tarnished date one day and that the least selfish thing I could do is not ruin another...
It’s so far away though... I missed the last opportunity.
I’ll just be a wee disgusting disappointment as ever now
CRPS pain has increased lately and sleep had already been suffering prior to that ... NOW? It’s VERY MUCH
‘catch it when you can’ and I feel trapped.
Trapped in a broken body.
Trapped in an overwhelmingly messed up and messed with head.
Trapped in this circle of pain, physical and mental...and a physical pain from a mental pain (I swear if a doctor talks about psychosomatic pain again I will just lie on their floor, I’d say weeping but I’ve lost that ability as of late...) (that particular pain I’m talking about has been with me for as long as I can remember-I think since the age of 8...)
Now I’m not working and I’ve been waiting 13months for an appeal by the powers that be who decided I had suddenly gained the ability to walk fine overnight and removed my mobility car... I’m more of a burden than ever.
I cannot see me working again.
Every time I think it’s going well? BAM! Kicked right back beyond the starting position in the wrong direction and not knowing which way is up...
I’m a burden on my family who love me but have their own lives.
I continue to return to the illogical logic of knowing that my birthday would be a completely tarnished date one day and that the least selfish thing I could do is not ruin another...
It’s so far away though... I missed the last opportunity.
I’ll just be a wee disgusting disappointment as ever now
Suppression Explosion
The brain is AMAZING! (It is also a complete *insert whichever word you feel encapsulates rage/confusion/terror at discovering this and trying to wrap your head round coping with the fallout).
Last year I discovered I had buried abuse so deep that I had erased entire people, time and incidents from my life… just to get by. It was a self-preservation-type thing my brain cleverly did. It did it so as to allow me to function and it did it well!!
Uncovering one was like a dam bursting…
No, my brain had not buried an abuser; it buried more than 15 -I cannot count the exact number and I don’t quiteknow why. I have been physically sick over some and unable to function well since discovering all of this.
I don’t feel quite real. I haven’t since I realised it all.
I always knew I’d been hurt. It wasn’t public knowledge or something I’d say when introducing myself, but I’d started -in the last few years, and since the ONE I refer to occurred roughly between my being 6&11…and I’m now 33? It took many many years for me to stop completely circumventing the facts.
Now? I don’t know… I can barely see from day to day anymore.
Perhaps one day I’ll be able to update this and have positive progress and recovery from the broken shell of a person that I seem to be at the moment…
Thursday 11 January 2018
2018... my plans had not seen me reach here.
Had i managed to not see 2018 I would be a few flashbacks less.
i had planned to leave on my birthday of last year, just near the end of the year but not tremendously selfish; the least selfish way i could work it out for anyone who might be mad or sad or... ha! Who am i that i think i could cause others to feel?
i am so empty.
i am so tired.
i am supposed to run the race to the finish? i am running nowhere and that nowhere is circles and spirals within my own head.
my knees are knackered from crawling. Trying to (or being forced to, as i was in hospital!) walk leaves me in an indescribable pain... would that doctor look at my black toes and purple with orange mottled leg? Ha! Don’t be daft. It’s all part of the plan that I GET ME and the shame and blame lies with ME.
It didn’t happen on my birthday. My sister and her kids took me outside. My littlest niece had JUST turned 2 and couldn’t grasp that it wasn’t HER birthday... just near the end of the evening SHE DID! It all clicked in her little clever brain and I just melted inside!
**
But then craziness happened. Group therapy has unearthed things i has buried! Things i wish had remained buried because they’re going to bury me now that they are unearthed. That hole needs filled with something and it seems it’s me that’s going in.
I truly thought my new therapist ‘got’ me. She doesn’t. I’m coming across as the girl who cries wolf. I’ve sat for too many hours with an escape option.
I had another plan.
I told no one.
I did not want to be a burden or cause hurt when the release would come for me.
And the joke was on me again.
I spent the whole of new year in hospital in isolation but without the means to carry out that plan.
So now, I can’t choose a specific date. A year is too long to hold on like this. It’s worse than ever and I’m clearly not explaining that very well to the psych.
If only i weren’t on her books/list/whatever.
I’d rather it didn’t fall at her feet.
Mess her head.
i just cannot keep seeing what i am.
If you saw, you’d understand.
Perhaps not condone, almost certainly not help...but understand.
Each day brings more information i had managed to hide from myself for decades. Now i am drowning and i have tried to word it so as to be clear without hurting her, or anyone who could get to those who can help... but i can’t. My ability to be clear has vanished. The clear things are the horrific things that i wish were blurred.
***
One incident i remember was in a foreign country and a father watched as his son assaulted me... in a way that now means i let nobody near me -even doctors/nurses...i have to cause more expense and be put to sleep for things...
he wasn’t taking ‘direction’ and was punched and told to “watch how it’s done son”. i was not there. i only remembered these words and being physically thrown round like -i’d say a doll but even a wee lassie wouldn’t handle their dolls like the way i can remember me/see me being handled. It’s like i’m floating above that scene. And yes IT DID HAPPEN. I WISH IT HAD NOT. I WISH I WERE THE LIAR SO MANY OBVIOUSLY THINK I AM. But... i am not.
i didn’t call out for help: it was my own doing; my own fault.
i had planned to leave on my birthday of last year, just near the end of the year but not tremendously selfish; the least selfish way i could work it out for anyone who might be mad or sad or... ha! Who am i that i think i could cause others to feel?
i am so empty.
i am so tired.
i am supposed to run the race to the finish? i am running nowhere and that nowhere is circles and spirals within my own head.
my knees are knackered from crawling. Trying to (or being forced to, as i was in hospital!) walk leaves me in an indescribable pain... would that doctor look at my black toes and purple with orange mottled leg? Ha! Don’t be daft. It’s all part of the plan that I GET ME and the shame and blame lies with ME.
It didn’t happen on my birthday. My sister and her kids took me outside. My littlest niece had JUST turned 2 and couldn’t grasp that it wasn’t HER birthday... just near the end of the evening SHE DID! It all clicked in her little clever brain and I just melted inside!
**
But then craziness happened. Group therapy has unearthed things i has buried! Things i wish had remained buried because they’re going to bury me now that they are unearthed. That hole needs filled with something and it seems it’s me that’s going in.
I truly thought my new therapist ‘got’ me. She doesn’t. I’m coming across as the girl who cries wolf. I’ve sat for too many hours with an escape option.
I had another plan.
I told no one.
I did not want to be a burden or cause hurt when the release would come for me.
And the joke was on me again.
I spent the whole of new year in hospital in isolation but without the means to carry out that plan.
So now, I can’t choose a specific date. A year is too long to hold on like this. It’s worse than ever and I’m clearly not explaining that very well to the psych.
If only i weren’t on her books/list/whatever.
I’d rather it didn’t fall at her feet.
Mess her head.
i just cannot keep seeing what i am.
If you saw, you’d understand.
Perhaps not condone, almost certainly not help...but understand.
Each day brings more information i had managed to hide from myself for decades. Now i am drowning and i have tried to word it so as to be clear without hurting her, or anyone who could get to those who can help... but i can’t. My ability to be clear has vanished. The clear things are the horrific things that i wish were blurred.
***
One incident i remember was in a foreign country and a father watched as his son assaulted me... in a way that now means i let nobody near me -even doctors/nurses...i have to cause more expense and be put to sleep for things...
he wasn’t taking ‘direction’ and was punched and told to “watch how it’s done son”. i was not there. i only remembered these words and being physically thrown round like -i’d say a doll but even a wee lassie wouldn’t handle their dolls like the way i can remember me/see me being handled. It’s like i’m floating above that scene. And yes IT DID HAPPEN. I WISH IT HAD NOT. I WISH I WERE THE LIAR SO MANY OBVIOUSLY THINK I AM. But... i am not.
i didn’t call out for help: it was my own doing; my own fault.
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