I have before sought out pain, gone looking for it like a drug, gone searching for it. It’s not that hard to find. A long time ago when I was majorly triggered and felt unsafe looking like a girl I decided to best way to defeminize myself was to shave my head and look like a boy. I always thought as a child it was safer to be a boy than a girl. Girls get hurt I thought, boys do too but for me being a girl seemed worse. So that day I shaved it, walked out of the apartment into a hallway full of people with the hope that someone would tell me how crazy I am. I was disappointed when a neighbor told me I was the only person she knew who could get away with “that look.” I was disappointed, left empty because I didn’t need confirmation or a compliment, I needed cruelty and hurtful words. I needed scars to accent the ones I already have. What was I looking for? I needed to remember my place, to remember that I should not try to act like I deserve anything but a slap in the face. I was looking for someone to remind me that I’m alive. I don’t feel alive sometimes. I don’t trust that when I have a piece of happiness that it belongs to me or that I deserve to have it. I believe it’ll be taken. I believe it’s a trick. I know I’m alive if I’m hurt. I may wish I were dead but I know I’m alive. Continue reading ‘What Was I Looking For?’
Daily Archive for July 21st, 2008
I am: just the girl next door
I think: I have too much time on my hands
I have: no mercy for myself.
I wish: today never happened.
I hate: and love sunflowers.
I miss: my sister
I fear: falling deeper into depression
I hear: life gets better
I smell: blood and urine, all the time
I crave: silence
I search: for a reason to get up each morning
I wonder: why I keep doing this.
I regret: having wasted so much time toiling
I love: and hate art
I ache: in my heart and in my bones
I am not: good (please do not respond to this part cause I don’t want to hear it.)
I believe: that I’m crazy
I dance: in the living room with candles
I sing: I don’t sing
I cry: but only when I feel like I’m out of options
I fight: tooth and nail to stay awake so I don’t dream
I win:
I lose:
I never: asked the question, “Who am I”
I always: Have coffee after dinner
I confuse: the feeling of soft with the feeling of wet
I listen: to music to drown out the people in my head
I am scared: all the time
I need: to be held and to matter
I am happy about: having a blog and blog friends but it doesn’t feel like enough to keep me going.
I imagine: being inside the painting Ladybird.
copied from Clinically Clueless .
J of A
Last night when I was in bed I rolled over and thought to myself, you know what? I’m done. It scared me. It scares me how easily I break anymore. When I thought it I realized I needed to try and put a safety plan in place, make sure I don’t get to the point where I screw up all I’ve worked for. After that thought went through my head it occurred to me that what I’m doing day in and day out is not enough to sustain me emotionally, physically or spiritually. I can’t feed this depression and expect to feel better. I am trying hard to get better and not simply give in.
I know a lot of the issue is Blossom but it’s also my dreams, flashbacks and other stuff I don’t even bother to blog about. I also don’t seem to handle physical pain well anymore. I stay at a 9 out of 10. It’s not as if I haven’t stayed this high before it’s that it’s getting old. I don’t handle the pain that well anymore. This stupid writs of mine can’t just be spraned. I think there’s something more wrong with it than that but going to the doctor to hold my hand out just isn’t something I can do without feeling a dowel rod come down on them. I can’t do it. The one thing I could never dissociate far enough from was dowel rods on the palms of my hands. I can not hold my hand out, palm up and not panic and come home safely. The wrist is a small drop in this bucket. I feel tapped and tired. Hopefully, more than likely it will pass. It seems harder each time though. I feel like I have less to fight with each time. I’m sorry to say that……sorry about that…
Joan of Arc (w/ Robert close by)
Dr. D just called and canceled. I’m so happy. I didn’t want to go anywhere at all today. The muscles in the back of my legs feel like they’re about to Charlie horse on me. I touch my back and I can pretty much feel toxins filling my back. I need to move around a bit more today and try to release some of this pressure behind my eyes and relax my muscles a bit. I wasn’t in any shape to go to therapy today.
I hope I didn’t sound too happy when he called to cancel. I certainly didn’t mean to but my “hell yeah” surely could have been taken wrong.
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