Tears, Fears, Urges And Ramblings

Its hard when you don’t really have anyone to turn to, it can be a lonely existence

Over the last year, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut when I’m around the people in my life, because I know they are no longer interested in what I have to say, or how messed up I feel, but I guess I can’t blame them, but the one thing that makes me angry is when they say ‘I know how you feel’ or ‘I’ve been through the same thing’ its not a competition but if each person suffered the same, one treatment would work for everyone

Lately I’ve formed a new phobia, as if I hadn’t enough ‘labels’ attached, but its of doctors and my mental health team, before every appointment I panic, I feel sick and it puts me off going until I’m desperate, then I leave feeling fragile, angry and impulsive

As I told you, Dr C accused me of using my illness as blackmail to get more diazepam, and since that day I haven’t been back to see her, the second doctor, Dr H, just sits there most of the time ‘yes, uh huh, uh huh’ its hard to talk to him, an even harder to tell if he even listens, when I go to my mental health team, I seem to see someone new every time, who are all these people? Temps?

Not long ago Dr H was reading through a report from my mental health team, it mentioned hallucinations, an he was like ‘you’ve never mentioned that to me before’ like I’d suddenly made it up, or when he quickly skimmed a report an said the mental health team said I should only be taking medication when I’m feeling down, an not so much when I’m feeling better

If he had of read it properly, it was diazepam they were talking about, any doctor should know the rule of medication, just because you’re feeling better, don’t stop taking it, and its things like this that frustrate an anger me so much, and have caused my new phobia

I’ve been with my current surgery since I first moved home, and I’m too afraid of moving to another medical practice with new doctors, so I’m trapped in this revolving circle where I’m lost in the system and no one understands me, they love to label me as ‘complex, and being an historian’ I can’t help who I am, how I come across and how I explain myself

I don’t want to be the type that talks through tears ‘no one listens to me’, I don’t want to be that cliché, but that’s where I am

Continuing with this theme, my last post was about benefits, and today I phoned in, and my bank was empty, no DLA payment, I’m in the middle of a renewal, so stressful! I left it too long to have the form back, so it stopped, its my own fault, I had away from last year, but I couldn’t bring myself to fill it in, who knew a few pages filled with questions about yourself could be so scary, but for me it is, I couldn’t find the words, my mind was blank, I couldn’t concentrate on it at all

By the end, where it asked ‘is there anything else you’d like us to know’ I was very emotional that day, and used that part to let rip at my life, my family, the mental health team, and my doctor, which I regret, wrong place, wrong time, they don’t care about that kind of thing, I just lost control for a minute

I went in to Dr H friday past, we fill the form he gets from DLA in together, sort of, last time he filled it in really well, this time he rushed it, apart from my diagnosed mental illnesses, and medication, he wrote, ‘low mood, low motivation, finds it hard to leave the house, an that I need my medication supervised’ so not exactly in-depth, I’ll just have to wait an see what happens, but a part of me doesn’t care anymore, I could live without the stress of it all

In a way it was strange to hear someone else sum up my life in such a simple way, with few words, like he didn’t know me at all, but then I don’t even know myself lately, I only know how I feel…

I haven’t left the house much in six months, because I’m finding it hard to cope right now, and I don’t feel like I want to be apart of the world outside, another part of me thinks of how much life I’m wasting locked away on my own, but its hard

When I do go out, I feel everyones eyes on me, I feel like I’m walking around with a big sign that says ‘look at me, look how odd I’m behaving’ I feel like I want to run, an hide somewhere, away from their gaze, I feel like a caged bird panicking to get free

Other times I’ve even had urges to throw myself in front of on coming traffic, its horrible, though when I’m with someone else, its not as bad

With all the anxiety, and with my social phobia, i mostly pay for taxis now into town, just to a shop, an then home again, that’s mostly the max I can handle, when there, I seem to buy enough junk food to feed a whole family, I come home an binge until I’m sick, swallowing my feelings, I’ve put on about two stone now in a short period of time, which makes me hate the way I look, an how I feel, its self punishment I guess

My mum and step-dad go out most evenings, they don’t even tell me, they just go an leave me at home, I’ve mentioned it to them, but nothing changes, my mum comments on how much time I’m spending in the house, but wouldn’t even offer to bring me with them, this family of mine are such a selfish bunch of people

You’re only as good as your last act of kindness, and all they ever talk about are themselves, I’m sick of it, I tell myself constantly that I’m done, that the first chance I get, I’m gone, and maybe then they will appreciate what they had, and by that I mean my own place, nothing morbid

Tonight, I’m home alone again, my mum even took the dog for some reason this time, and yes, its just as depressing as it sounds

They don’t realise how much I’ve changed, and who I’ve become, like a stranger in someone elses house, how everyday I become a little more distant, a little quieter, maybe I’m a good actor, but I know that’s not true! Maybe they’d rather choose to be blind than to worry

I tell myself to let rip and let them have it, but I never do, I’d rather have pride than pity

I don’t want to rely on others, I want to go it alone, at the same time, I know I can’t, or if I did I wouldn’t last long, I know being alone would make me more of a danger to myself, but then I’m alone so much as it is

There are people dying right now of serious illnesses, and by comparison my problems probably don’t seem so big, but sometimes in my darkest moments, I’d rather swap with one of them, I’d rather be dying somewhere, an I know they’d rather live my hell than die

I get the thoughts like a lot of people to self harm, I used to when I was younger, until I realised it gets you nowhere, it doesn’t really let out the hurt, its only a distraction and a false high

I like to think of myself as pandoras box, past all the darkness, and when you’ve reached bottom, there’s always hope


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