post-weird

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aayyye love to never post

going back in for trauma treatment and brother i cannot tell you how unenthused i am, despite being the person who initiated this

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had a strange flashback to being 15 and cutting myself with pieces of glass i found lying around. i used to hide them in the public bathroom on my walk to and from school.

and later on at highschool id find places to hide them

anyway i scratched my legs up without causing any blood loss.

and it struck me how easy it is to hurt yourself. i could so easily start again. nothing is stopping me.

but the hassle it would cause. i would disrupt everything, id have to go to therapy more, they might move me out of here.

things that keep you safe: not the thought of disappointing others but just like, having to deal with it all

exhausting.

having suicidal ideation, which is never good. hopefully i can move past it. i think i should be ok. i think today was just stressful

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lmao i get told that it sounds like i have rumination/intrusive thoughts OCD. I haven’t told anyone other then my sister? i think. My memory’s shoddy as fuck, so I might have told someone else

but my response to this news has been to ruminate over it, to have it pop up when i can’t avoid it

part of me’s like....no. don’t want it. i already have four mental illness diagnosis’ i don’t need more

its exhausting, being crazy

but otoh, not facing it means not dealing with it. and not dealing with it gives it more and more power over my life

and now i’m aware of it, i understand how much of my brain energy it takes up.

im so tired of my own bulshit, tbh

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i have spent a ot more in microtransactions in the town game then i tod my housemate and i reconnected my bank card

im down to $12 for a week

this happens occasionally to me, less so now i have a ittle more  money, and i don’t feel the urge to spend it before someone steals it

thats an urge i have combatted, at least/ but at least every 6 months this happens where i overspend and just sort of embarrassedly fake it

i also feel like a fraud. i have never felt more like a fake crazy person then today and yesterday

when the housemate sid that since the word bipolar came up i had been acting more stereotyplically bipolar

i feel awful and like i can’t share things with her at the moment

also i recognise that she told me off for an action that i was proud of, pointed out all the ways its could have gone wrong

and now i don’t know what im feeling

shame? guilt? little bit of resentment? all three i think

what if i’m just a fake who is just messy and weak. what if the thought of being bipolar is causing me to act in a different way that isn’t normal?

everyone keeps talking about what a scary diagnosis it is, and it doesn’t scare me/ i’ve got fucking ptsd, like. the label doesn’t scare me

i just don’t know what my psych is thinking. does he think i am bipola 2? theres a solid argument. am i just depressed with bpd traits and also ptsd? sure!

what i want from him is, i’ve decided to write down the diagnosis of ptsd/ i want it acknowledged. no matter what other diagnosis there is.

i don’t know/ i feel fake, performative. like im trying to be sick or something but then something will actually happen and i cant control it so i know its real

i can’t control these moods either or i wouldn’t do this. i don’t know what to do

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im really stunned. i don’t really know how to deal or process the information i’ve been given

im going to finish up with my current therapy group and they are going to switch me to a one day skills only group

and then maybe wellness which is fitness for crazy people

and an outreach therapist/social worker/mental health nurse, whoever they think is most appropriate

i want to do trauma work. that is what i want to do. i don’t think they think i am capable of it rn

maybe they are right

but they are switching me out of my current group because its too triggering for me 

lmao all it took was one friday of huge explosive meltdowns and then they are like ok no

i both feel like im being listened too and also punished a bit but im not sure how or what part of that is true.

i don’t know, i don’t know. i need to process this more. i need to look up what outreach actually offers me.

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i actively don’t want to kill myself. intellectionally, emotionally, in wise mind i do not want to kill myself.

not just for other people, but for myself

but the intrusive thoughts about self harm are deafining, and the impulse urges to act are extremely strong, i just want to curl up and not deal with life. and that’s not good

i think i should talk to my doctors about being hospitalised again. im extremely fragile rn, and i don’t actually trust myself completely, and that is scary

but i also dont wanna go in until i’ve bought a new ipad and a phone lmao

it gets very boring on the psych ward

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today during talks about behaviour modification i realised i had been made extinct neglect and abuse extinguished parts of me now, that doesn't mean they can't be relit but i've never had the thought or understood before the lack i feel lacking it's self judgement for sure but this i know: parts of me fell away like old boughs of trees because during the drought i could not sustain them and those parts included some parts of me being able to care and be cared for i feel like the child raised in the cage but the cage was the world and the bars were the adults around me and their indifference inaction and apathy i am broken and i am not bad or worthless but my shattered parts didn't get put back together with gold i glued them together with my own blood and repressed tears and screams and now i'm a vibrating mess of crockery

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she says she's changed but she's exactly the same. she rang me and told me she'd cried all the way home because she was so worried about how dusty my room was and she wouldn't stop lecturing me about it and it's like, yeah i get it. i get it. let's also consider that i struggle with basic cleanliness. i'm chronically depressed. i understand that i have a dust allergy. but i also don't manage to shower every day so dusting knick knacks isn't high on the priority list idk i get that she's concerned and it would be better for me but her way of talking about it just makes me so defensive and frustrated and it's sure as hell not inspiring i'm in such a weird headspace now it's so blank and empty and dismissive i feel drained of every thing i also feel like destroying myself but there's no frantic urge, just this dull undercurrent i'm not going to act on it right now i don't wish i was dead but i do sort of wish i could disappear

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this is why i don’t involve my sister in anything.

as soon as she gets worried she’s completely overbearing and frustrating and condescending to deal with

and it’s worse because it comes from a place of genuine love and worry

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i didn't know that my sister stole food when she was young from other children's bags i found that out last night and i thought about why i didn't and i think it's because when i was 6 i had a friend who was probably being abused at home and she used to steal lunch money from the lunch box and buy me and her things with it and when she got caught she said that i stole money too and one time she gave me 5 cents so i was confused and couldn't argue and they called my mother and i was trying to explain, but i think she tried to break my arm or something? we were in the car and i was crying and she just kept squeezing my arm and i'd gotten out of a cast for broken limbs maybe 18 months ago? so even if she was just trying to hurt me, i had that visceral fear of my arm breaking i knew what that was but we also talked about all these dudes our mother slept with, all these married dudes and one of the guys who she was on and off with for years was also the one who tried to break down the door of the house she and my sister were living in when my mother had borrowed too much money from him idk my sister said that she was so frustrated with our teachers because one of the big signs of abuse/neglect is children stealing food or clothes and people knew what we were going through and didn't help us

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"Most recently, Daniel Schechter and Erica Willheim have shown a relationship between some maternal violence-related posttraumatic stress disorder and secure base distortion (see above) which is characterized by child recklessness, separation anxiety, hypervigilance, and role-reversal." hey it's me and my sister. "The second category is secure base distortion, where the child has a preferred familiar caregiver, but the relationship is such that the child cannot use the adult for safety while gradually exploring the environment. Such children may endanger themselves, cling to the adult, be excessively compliant, or show role reversals in which they care for or punish the adult." literally me and my sisters relationship with our mother when we were kids

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i don't know if i have abandonment issues. i mean, i probably do, i just can't separate them from my other issues. i see people use that term so easily and i envy their ability to understand themselves i know i have massive rejection issues. i don't ask for anything because being told no destroys me and i am working on that, and it's actually effective. i'm managing the strong feelings it causes

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it's hard being clear with people. it's hard to try and turn off the part of my brain that attempts to mindread and second guess also there's absolutely no doubt in my mind that my readings are anything other then accurate until proven otherwise, there's some weird part of me that assumes it knows the answer to everything it's all protective. it's all about denying others access to me. i just...i don't know. parts of me coil so intensely around the other softer parts everything about me is focused on cushioning blows

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I cut my life down to make it quieter and quieter. I limit my social interactions to people I have absolute faith in that won't hurt me, except for my dad and sister. everything hurt, I was suffering and I couldn't pinpoint the source so I eliminated it all and now it's like I'm hyper sensitive, and the littlest amount of pressure and stress feels like a knife to the heart I was overwhelmed with pressure so I removed it all completely but now I have no tensile strength left. as I write this my entire body is prickling with adrenaline and fear I'm shaking and i wasn't before. putting this on the page is apparently too scary I'm scared to admit it to myself and believe it, I think i hoped that once I clicked with therapy I'd feel better about going but that's not happening my housemate suggests that it's because 'I don't want to' is the instinct I listen to most and fighting against it feels unnatural I think she might be right what do I want to do? I want to get ready. I want to leave the house. I want to be better at this I also want to curl up under the blankets and sleep I want to hurt myself tying not build up anything in one way I don't know I want to be honest with myself at least

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I think I just had a mini revelation I submitted an anon ask to a child on child sexual assault survivor blog because I'm really confused about what happened to me as a kid but I just drew lines between things that I never had before I focus on the sexual nature of the threats I underwent because they disturb me the most but there was an incident I didn't click with after they convinced the teacher to move me into their room, I kept all my stuff in my old room, because I didn't want to be naked near them and then a bunch of girls hid one of their bras inside my room and then accused me of stealing it I didn't respond I guess? in the way they wanted? I didn't cry or get angry, I remember feeling bewildered and confused. I didn't understand what was going on. so then it became humiliating me about my body, lots of comments about how my fat would have stretched the bra out and how I desperately needed one and I think one of them said to me that I could have just asked? but yeah, I shut down, I didn't engage with them but I remember the terror and shame I felt about them going through my clothes, judging my stuff nowadays, I never tell people when my clothes or things break. I don't want anyone touching my mess or clothes or anything. im so scared. I think it's connected, very directly the more I think about it, the more I realise how that camp damaged me I tried to kill myself twice that week and I think that being the sexual focus of bullying by other women made me scared to recognise my own queerness for so long they sexually threatened me, told me they were going to sew up my vagina so that I couldn't have children, and my mouth so I couldn't sing anymore at that age, my big dreams were one day to be a parent and I loved to sing. and then, sleeping in the bottom bunk, I had to listen to two of the girls have sex. and it was scary and I felt sad and weird and wrong. the big thing is, the time they took me into the shower. it's left me super fucked up on a bunch of different levels my mother didn't buy me shampoo or conditioner or any toiletries for the camp. and I was terrified of showering with the other girls so I was ok with that but then my bullies made me go to a teacher and tell them I didn't have shampoo, and they said they'd help me wash my hair I remember being led into the bathroom I was wearing a bathing suit, they were naked and that's it. there's no more memory there. I think I can say I'm a survivor of cocsa. I think that's ok. idk. I'm lost about it. but aside from the sex stuff, I just realised that this means something how secretive and rejecting I am of help for my body. how I feel hyper sensitive towards any criticism of my clothing, my appearance I'm thinking about this, gonna talk about this with my housemate

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I think I was supposed to feel pressured in therapy with focus on me but I didn't I maybe detached from it a bit but I was in the back of my head aware of my posture, body language, eye contact thinking don't shy away, keep eye contact challenging myself, questioning urges I guess? it was an oddly internal process for what was going on because I was being spoken to directly and I was considering what to say but I wasn't looking for the answer that would end the conversation or 'win' it I felt very young yesterday, parts of me felt like I'd regressed to being a young teenager interacting with the whiteboard and then afterwards it was an effort to bring myself back into the room another patients distress centred me, I felt their pain very deep and I felt like the adult me again but it was so odd, and I know it got picked up on because the way the therapist started interacting with me was different, was more guiding very anxious about leaving the house today but managed it, got dressed, got showered. couldn't bring myself to take the effort to get a jacket, may have to buy one at shops and that's a problem too, letting my tension build up inside until it forces me into either action or shut down it isn't a safe way for me to operate, it's harmful

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I was 15, driving back on my uncles car with my dad and sister, back to my mother's house it was exciting, my uncle is rich and his car had a CD player and air con and Windows with buttons it was 2001, let's remember. my dads fridge didn't have a freezer but he'd bought me and my sister single serving size frozen yogurts to have for breakfast, kept them in the fridge overnight I remember drink-eating that sticky pink goo and being happy half way through the drive I realised something was wrong I kept catching sight of myself in the rear view mirror and my top lip was swelling. it hurt and was numb at the same time I don't remember how my family reacted to it. I know my dad drove me to the gp, and then drove us back to our mums house I was on the home phone in minutes telling my best friend that I had an allergic reaction and I might die! I wanted to go over to her house immediately to show her my freaky lip then my mother found out and screamed at me I didn't understand the worry or concern I felt guilty then, I think I'd see the brand of yogurt in the supermarket and joke about eating it and my sister would panic I didn't understand that either years later, pretty sure it's not food activated, but anxiety instead I'm sitting outside my house, with a referral to an allergy specialist it's beyond stressful to take care of myself because it just triggers the memories of neglect but there is no one else to do this and I wouldn't let them if there was