Wednesday 15 May 2013

Darkness on my mind


I wish I could write about something inspiring and  fun. But really, I'm still doing like shit. Anxiety. Tired. Indifference. Depression. Sad. Helpless. Passive. I wish I was a drama-queen, I could just throw a tantrum. Scream out my feelings, hit something, show how bad I'm feeling. But I'm silent. I'm chatting with a friend, talking about nonsense-topics, talking about how accents and dialects can be attractive and sexy. I should tell him that I need help. I should tell him that I'm not okay. But I don't. I fake-laugh at his comments and play the game.

I haven't heard from my mother in two days. She last told me on Skype that she doesn't want to talk, that she needs rest, that she's going to stay in the house. I could call but what if my dad answers? I don't want to be bothered by this but I'm worried sick. This all really couldn't have come at a worse time for me. I've already been down before they decided to split up. And not telling me what's going on is really only making things worse. Maybe he's threatening her? Maybe she has somehow decided to play by his rules again? I don't know what is going on. 

I met my social worker yesterday. I've been honest to him, told him about how I'm feeling, about my thoughts. When I'm feeling bad my brain convinces me that my deranged thoughts are logical. I have this thought that somehow makes sense to me: If I was dead, I wouldn't be a burden to anyone anymore. Sure, people would be sad for a while but they would get over it. Then they had one less problem to worry about, after a while it would probably feel like a relief to them. And at the moment I'm also convinced that 1. I don't deserve help because I'm just a pain in the ass and I only cause problems and 2. No one can help me anyway, I'm a lost cause. T of course suggested that I should get admitted to the hospital which I strongly said no to. I think I worried him and I might have opened the gates to hell, a hell he doesn't want to be a part of. I'm ashamed, I shouldn't have told him these things. 

He had contacted the leader of the psycho-dynamic team and I'm on the waiting-list after all. It's a waiting-list for some evaluation-meetings. They evaluate if this therapy is suitable for you. But I won't be hearing from them until the late summer/early fall. What am I supposed to be doing until then? They told him about some kind of 24/7 help-line at the center that I can call. But I know myself, I won't call. I might get a meeting with a psychiatrist next month. I don't know why that should be helpful. Meds haven't helped me so far. I avoid sedatives because I have been brainwashed, I have been told so many times that they are bad for you so I don't take them. Blah.

I haven't been out of the apartment for almost three weeks. Not a step outside the door. My boyfriend does errands without me having to ask for them. He's bored and he wants to have something to do. So he fetches my packages from the post-office, buys birthday-gifts I should be getting and does the grocery-shopping. I guess that's good but it really doesn't make things better for me, if I don't get out my social anxiety will only get worse. But who cares. 

I'm a mess. I'm always just a fucking mess. 


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