how much longer?

I'm falling behind and falling apart. It's not so much that I want someone I can talk to about this. I want someone I can simply talk to. The walls close in and the weight in my chest grows heavier. I tell myself how I'm going to accomplish certain tasks. I tell myself how today is going to be better. I start off feeling slightly positive and partially motivated. But something happens after a few hours and reality comes crashing in on me. I am alone. Every day, every moment, I am completely alone. I'd like for you to imagine that for a moment.

I'd like for you to imagine yourself completely alone. No family, no friends, no partner. Waking up alone, having no one to speak to during the day, not doing anything on your days off, and losing all motivation to do the things you need to do, such as homework. The emptiness weighs on you so much that nothing helps to alleviate it. Not movies, not books, not music... You're restless. You would do anything to talk to someone. Oh sure, you can reach out to the church, but that didn't go so well for me the last time. I have therapy scheduled, and that's all very well but it's not a friend.

I think of the people who would be quick to say, "but I am your friend." Really? When was the last time you texted me? Or called? Or saw me? The truth is, I don't matter all that much. And that's OK. That's not your fault.

I keep praying and begging Heavenly Father to help me. And I keep waiting for an answer... but nothing happens and so I start feeling sick and I cry myself to sleep and I wake up and I try again. I keep trying and nothing keeps changing and I feel so sick. I tell myself, "Next week is a new week. Things will be better." I tell myself this every week. Tomorrow will be better. But it is not. And each day that passes a part of me fades and any hope I had withers.

I am not suicidal. I am not cutting. I am not purging. I am not restricting. I am not acting impulsively. But it is still not good enough, in fact, it's all so much more worse. I am so much more alone than I have ever been, and it seems like even God isn't listening to me anymore.

i am not okay

In case you’re wondering, I am not okay. No, I am not suicidal. I am not self-harming by cutting, purging, or restricting. Actually, this feeling is a lot worse. The above, I know how to handle that, I know where to get help, and what I need to do to help myself. This is something else entirely. I’m not even sure that this can be fixed.

I am not okay. Today, I woke up feeling as if I had slept 10+ hours, but not at all rested, completely paranoid that I slept in past my scheduled shift. I grabbed my iPhone and looked at the time. 6:30 AM – I didn’t have to clock in until 8. It took everything to wake myself up and make breakfast. Eggs, sausage, cheese. Coffee. I watched Supernatural before it was time to clock in. I told myself that today was going to be good. I was going to do well at work and be upbeat and everything would be great. I started the day off okay enough, not good, but okay. Then I saw that he had posted something about BPD – because being the creepy stalker I am, I still check what he says – and something just shattered in me. Oh, it wasn’t anything bad at all. It was something very thoughtful. Yet, I could feel the air get heavier and the energy it took to speak was exhausting. I just keep seeing myself failing at everything. I want to quit my job, not because of the people I work with or the job itself – I like both. But because I am failing. I am not doing good. I don’t know how to fix that.

I am not okay. I left work early. I ordered food that I knew was going to make me feel gross and fat and worthless. I watched part of I am Jazz. But thoughts came flooding in, so I shut the TV off and took a shower. The joys of Lupus, before I apply any soap or shampoo, just at the touch of water, my skin is covered in hives. I want to peel my skin off. I started crying, and I can’t remember the exact thoughts, but the thoughts turned into a prayer pleading with Heavenly Father to send me a friend. I am alone. That’s what hurts. I am alone, and in a way I have never been alone before. I don’t have anyone I can talk to. And I don’t mean about the sad things…. I just mean to talk, about anything, to do something with, to get out and away. I have one person (locally) that I can talk to, and she’s amazing and I love her… but I just need someone I can spend time with.

I am not okay. I want to be, I really do, but I don’t know how to be OK with the things I cannot fix. Things that people say, “That’s not true” – but really, we both know they are – it’s just the nice thing to say, the right thing to do. I think about today and I think about tomorrow, and my chest tightens and my breathing stops. Oh, I know, I know. I can go to church. I can join clubs at school. I can meet people. I can make friends. But honestly, what is the fucking point if everyone leaves anyway? Even the ones that promise not to. It is my fault, I know, that everyone leaves. I’m too much… even when I’m doing OK and normal, I’m still not good enough for people. I’m awkward and not in the cool way like some people. I’m a fucking freak. I have so much self-loathing I have to face every second of every freaking day.

…But wait, I shouldn’t be talking about these things, right? I shouldn’t talk about how I feel because its not positive and uplifting. I need to suck it up. I need to get over it. I shouldn’t feel this way. I need to stop being a baby about things and if I really feel these things about myself, I need to change it. I love that. I really do. “Oh, you hate yourself? Well why don’t you change what you don’t like.” Excuse me, but I think you misunderstand.

I hate the way I look. Beyond my weight and other things within my control, I hate absolutely everything about my appearance. I hate how I talk, I hate my voice, I hate the stupid things I say. OK, so I can control what I say. I hate how I feel. I hate how I think….   I hate me. I hate who I am. I hate my very spirit.

Do you understand now?

I am not okay.

And all I really want right now is the one thing I don’t deserve, the one thing I’ve ruined my chances with --- a friend. Someone that will be like, hey, you’re not okay. That’s okay though, because I care about you and we’ll get through this. But I don’t have that. All I have is me, and can’t you see how hard that is when I hate myself so much? 

Power & Control

After quite a few tears and contemplating running away entirely (do you know they call it pseudo suicide when people run away with intentions of never being found?), I have come to a pretty basic conclusion. I can’t control other people or how they see me. I’d like this to be the part where I say, ‘but, I can control how I see me.’ Unfortunately, it is a bit trickier than that. As much as I would like to see myself positively, I can’t just flip a switch. I can’t just turn on the positive self-talk and automatically be fixed. One thing that has held me back so much from accepting and loving myself is that I feel like if I believed certain things, I would be lying to myself. I have enough people lie to me already; I don’t need to hurt myself that way, too. I refuse to build myself up with lies and when something happens to fall down so hard and not even have myself that I can trust to pick me back up. I rather build myself up with true things. I rather accept the negative things for what they are, and if it is a negative that I can fix, I will do everything I can to change that part of me.

I have deleted everyone from Facebook, but I am not ready to delete my entire account quite yet. Who knows, maybe in a month or longer, I will re-activate it. I need to distance myself from certain things right now. I wanted to delete everything about my life last night. I begged Heavenly Father to help me, though I wasn’t sure he was listening, cared, or even existed. I made a list of things I want, kind of like how a former friend had me do. Except I was brutally honest in this list and I only wrote the most important things. Then I took a look at the list and asked, “Well, what here is in my control?”. Now, I realize some things I’ve determined to be in my control are dependent upon my health and if I do end up having cancer or major Lupus issues going on…. But for now, they are entirely in my control. I want to lose weight and be physically strong. I can do that. I have the ability to exercise and maintain a proper diet. So, I’ll do it. I will push myself as hard as I can in this area of my life.

One of the other things is finishing my degree. Now, I know I said in my last post that I do not have a desire to do that anymore. And honestly, I still kind of don’t… the idea of school and trying so hard for something and no one to share the success with is depressing. Still, I know I want this; beyond the depression and the pain, I know there’s a part of me that still wants to get my BA & Masters. I have control over this too. I need to put in the effort to pass my classes and succeed. I also want to be a published author. Now, I have no control of whether an established publisher picks up my manuscript or if I’ll reach a large audience. However, I do have the ability to finish writing my manuscript and hiring editors and such to polish it up. Even if I can’t find an indie publisher, I can still self-publish. It’s still very possible. Other things about my appearance that I want to change, such as my hair and my teeth… those things require money and time, but I am also capable of working and earning money.

The other two things on my list are things I am not 100% sure I want, because let’s face it, right now I am pretty lost and I just want to be alone. Oh, I don’t really want to be alone, but I’m afraid of letting anyone in. I also have no idea quite what I believe anymore. The first is to go through the temple. Now, becoming temple worthy is totally in my control. However, with my beliefs shaken, I believe I need to take time to read my scriptures again and pray on the matter. Once I’ve established my beliefs and my testimony, I can proceed from there. The last thing is to have friends and stable relationships. I mean no offense to anyone in my life, but the friends I have are either of the unsupportive variety, or they live far away, or they have lives of their own and are too busy. I have very little hope that I will ever have a really close, good friend again. I don’t think I’ll let anyone get that close to me, even if they wanted to. As for a relationship, I feel like that is such an impossibility. I feel like I am not meant to have a person to share my life with. I want to say that I’m OK with that, but I’m really not. People are so quick to say, “Oh, you’ll find someone!”. Statistically speaking, not everyone finds someone. From my understanding, even the church teaches that you might not find someone here. The thing is, I feel like I won’t find anyone anywhere ever. It hurts. Oh, I know I could “settle”, if I really felt the urge to be unhappy but less lonely. But that’s too fake, too wrong, and it is not me.

I know this year is going to be hard, and hopefully everything is OK with my health so I can work on achieving these things… I have control over most of them. But I do not have control over other people and how they see me. I do, however, have control over how much I reveal to others. I have control over how much power I give them. And no one will ever be given enough power to break me in such an awful way ever gain. 

Open Letter

I have no one I can talk to. Not really. I have lost everyone that I care about who would even attempt to listen without condemning me for feeling. I understand that I feel things too much, that I react too much, and even when I am doing better and I am not self-harming or doing anything impulsive, I’m still shamed for feeling things so intensely. I was going to say I am sorry for this, but I’m not. I wouldn’t be me, I wouldn’t have the level of passion I do, if I didn’t feel things this deeply. I hate that in our world we promote this idea of being strong, not letting things get to you, and such… because the fact is, things will get to you. Things will hurt you. Not just big things, but little things, too. Everyone experiences things differently. Something that might make you angry may have no effect on me. Something that might make me sad may seem silly to you. It doesn’t mean it’s not just as important to me as the thing that made you angry. I may not understand why that made you angry, but I know how anger feels, and so I can empathize and express understanding to you. But you? All of you chastise me for feeling, not even just sadness, but happiness too. I’ve started adding a disclaimer when I tell you guys about something that made me happy. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but x event just happened…” How sad is that? Someone did something nice for me, but it doesn’t matter and I promise I won’t think it means more than what it does, but isn’t that nice? Yeah, that’s nice, but please don’t think about it too much. So and so doesn’t like you. So and so is not your friend. I’d just forget about it. Words like that? It feels like you are saying I don’t matter. Honestly, that hurts. An anonymous kind note is left at my apartment, and all of you were so quick to claim it was a mistake. I shouldn’t even be curious at all as to who left it, because it probably wasn’t even really for me. Well, I guess you’re right. Why the hell would anyone say nice things to me?

You’re all so quick to tell me the thoughts I have about myself aren’t true. Even him. One day, well several days, I had mentioned to him the awful thoughts I had about myself. You had me write good things in my journal about myself. You had me write: Passionate, reader, caring, writer, gorgeous (eyes), creative, dragon tamer, intelligent, salesperson (wicked talented), patient, thoughtful, spiritual, loving, perfect. I remember how one day you had me read this little kid’s book about three trees, who wanted to be all these amazing things, and even though those specific things did not happen the way they thought it would, they still had a purpose. One was turned into the manger for baby Jesus, the other was the boat he was in, and one was the cross. I felt so cared about, because it was like someone saw purpose in me. But then you said other things that tainted the nice things. “I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t like you like that; I’m shallow and you’re not my type.” “I only meant that he wasn’t superficial. He won’t care about appearance or weight.” “You’re just you. It’s okay.” --- That one probably hurt the most. The things about my weight, my appearance, or whatnot…. Those are things I can maybe fix. But when you said that I’m just me, it’s just “who I am”... That hurt in a different way… because I can’t fix that. The words themselves basically imply that there is something so inherently wrong with me, that any negative aspect about me, is unfixable, because it’s who I am. I still can’t believe you’d say these things when you knew how much I already believed those horrible things about myself. I told you how my ex wouldn’t have sex with me because I was fat. And then you said the same thing. You knew that I believed there was something inherently wrong with me, and you said that. I told you that you hurt me when you said those things, and you apologized, but the thing is… you said it… And those words erased every kind thing you said.

I opened up to a friend about these things, and she was so quick to tell me I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t cry. I shouldn’t hurt when I see your name or hear your voice. We weren’t together, and I didn’t want you like that, but I do love you so very much as a friend, as a person, and it still broke my heart. I get people not wanting to see their friends or family members so desperately sad, but the worst thing you can do to someone is make them feel bad for feeling the way they do. Psychology teaches how important it is to validate people. You may not understand, but just because you don’t understand how or why I feel this way, doesn’t make it “wrong”.

What pisses me off so much is that none of you want me to kill myself, of course, but I am so lost as to what to do with myself. I mean, if I’m happy, it’s like oh be careful cause you know that happy-making-thing doesn’t count for anything, it’s nothing. I understand not getting your hopes up, but my god, what is so wrong to hope for something? Just a little bit? Oh, I’ll get hurt, right? Because I can’t ever have anything good like that. You guys wrong flat out freaking say it, but it’s true. That’s how you feel. That’s what you think of me, and I know it. I see it. I hear it in the words you say. You don’t explicitly tell me, “You aren’t ever going to have any real relationships in your life. At least, not any healthy ones with someone who really cares about you. You’re too fat. You’re too ugly. You’re too gross. You’re too emotional. You’re too unstable. You’re too needy. You’re too clingy.” But you say it in other ways.

“I want someone who is independent… and you’re not.”

“Didn’t you just eat? Why are you eating again?”

“You’re not stable enough to do that right now. You should get long-term help.”

“Why do you even care about that?”

“You get too upset about these things. You’re overreacting. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s fine if he doesn’t respond. Just don’t get your hopes up about it.”

“What about this guy? He’s more in your league.”

I am so tired of hating myself. If you guys really believe these things about me, then please… don’t shame me for being sad about it.

I have survived through so much of this, but this last week… something inside me died. I know that sounds dramatic and cliché, but it’s true. Between the last few weeks of having any happiness downplayed to him stating there is something wrong with the way I look… and then, telling you guys about it and you shaming me for being hurt? Everyone had been so distant with me and so quick to put me in my place when I was feeling happy and so quick to chastise me for feeling sad.

I just don’t see the point in trying. I’m not suicidal by any means… I just don’t want to have people involved in my life anymore. I feel like doing what I need to in order to support myself, but nothing else. I don’t even have any desire to continue my degree, which I was so happy about it. I don’t want to go to church and meet new people. I don’t want to talk to anyone anymore.

I’m not mad at anyone for these things. I don’t want anyone to feel bad about these things. It is what it is. I’m just really tired.