I am tired of feeling shitty every goddamn day and I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of feeling badly for myself for realizing too late of all the good things I had before I fucked them up. I’m tired of knowing that everything that makes me feel so much pain all the time is entirely my own fault. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t fix it. I’m tired of feeling unloved even though I know it’s what I deserve. It’s pretty fucking awful and I want it all to stop but I can’t seem to make that happen.
Clearly whatever I’m doing now isn’t working so it’s time to try something else. I’ve seen psychiatrists, and they are great at giving me pills and jotting notes down on their fucking clipboards while nodding their heads and I’ve seen a counsellor who was great at saying all the things I already knew. All of them told me that I was very self aware and didn’t need to see them anymore. Maybe I’m seeing the wrong ones because I don’t feel fixed. I still cut myself. I still grab my neck hard and tight until it hurts and I can’t hold on anymore. I still binge and purge and I still think about killing myself. These are not normal things and I know that. I don’t want to do these things, I don’t want to think that those are reasonable coping strategies. They are exactly what I need them to be, an outlet for me to feel in control of myself when I feel like everything else is out of my control. Pain and punishment is a way to distract myself from feeling sad all the time. If someone I knew told me they were doing this I would be worried and concerned for them, but I don’t show myself the same regard. It’s easier to help other people than it is to help yourself.
I was supposed to move out of my apartment last weekend but I didn’t. Do you know why? Because I have packed literally nothing and didn’t bother to even call and book the truck. I have piles of clean and dirty laundry on my floor, no clean towels and not even toilet paper. The food in my fridge has been in the same containers and pots for at least a month. I’m scared to open them. I am a fucking mess. I have however been taking excellent care of my ever loving and faithful companion: my cat Super Nibs. Handsome bastard. It is very clear to me that my current strategies or lack thereof are not helpful to me in any way whatsoever. So in recognition that what I am doing has been unsuccessful, I chose to do some counselling tonight. I have multiple ways of accessing my service provider and online happened to be one of them. I shop online, connect online, bank online so I might as well get some counselling there too.
One of the benefits was that I could sit on my couch and not have to see anyone. I got nervous at first but got over that pretty quickly and cry typed the whole time. I’m not convinced I feel any better though because I hadn’t cried all day until I started the session. The end result was more or less being told that I should really be setting up ongoing sessions with the same counsellor instead of the one off that I tried to do tonight. As much as it hasn’t worked before, I’m all for feeling better so I have agreed. Everyone needs someone to dump their shit on.
My supervisor sent this today saying it reminded her of all the little things that we in social services do that has an impact on others and the world. I thought it was nice and it made me smile.
Oooh, I’ve just been asked by friends to catsit for them… possibly, maybe. They have a handful of hairless cats that make me giggle.
It is slightly possible that maybe I do feel a teensy bit better after all. Also I would like to add that for anyone who read yesterday’s blog and thought, wow, booze and Taco Bell sound like a super good combination: You would be wrong.