after a bit, the sarcasm in this entry gets pretty strong.
i have to remind myself that i don’t have to prove anything to anyone. i don’t have to…….. that’s just it, i don’t have to….. screw this. i don’t want to fight in my head. i don’t want to argue with myself. i don’t want to be broken one minute and happy the next because its totally exhausting.
i don’t want to be positive it i don’t feel positive. i don’t want to say i’m okay if i’m not. i’m not ok.
i don’t want to see the person who is coming tomorrow but my health needs and other needs are too much for 2 senior citizens who have been taking care of me for about 2 years now. but this one is a little younger than me….and black…..gracious….. i might as just ……. wow, i can’t believe what just went through my head. funny how you’re going off and then you catch yourself saying something you used to do when less healthy. I don’t cut anymore, for any reason but i am triggered by this woman, by all women, but especially black women. at least she’s not like snow and betty who seem think you must hug every time you part. stop it!
black people, a group of people that scare me to death because of my abusers. it makes no sense from the outside looking in. some might fear men because of abuse or fear angry women because of abuse. i fear black women because of abuse but it seems to engulf all black people. i’m immediately tense.
i’m going to hear how different I am. they’re going to make fun of me, never fails. this person asked why i’ve never had ox tails and greens. i said, cause we aren’t slaves anymore. …. i don’t have to speak a certain way to be black but i get pressured every time, without fail. i like chicken, isnt that enough? when there’s a hair emergency i call for black up. i bet im black enough to get shot by the police…….anyway……..i’m not looking forward to tomorrow.
i can’t ask for help with conditions. … um, yes, i’d like assistance in my home for free and um, hold the blacks. i don’t want australians or londoners either cause they talk funny, can’t understand a word they say. don’t send anyone from kentucky, ohio or florida either. i should add colorado too, those people scare me.
i’m afraid of women. i can let my guard down with them too which means the fear is better but i’m still afraid of women. right now i’m not afraid of betty, i’m hurt. it feels as though she’s blown a canon through my stomach and my response was, that’s okay, I still love you.
i have intellectualized the situation. i’ve prayed about it, cried about it and i’m angry but yes, betty is still my friend and yes, i do still love her very much. she’s responsible for her actions, i’m responsible for how i respond. right now i’m waiting for my emotions to catch up with the action i’ve chosen, which is to forgive her profound ignorance.
as this blog has touched on quite often, there’s more than one of me. we’re struggling to get this new understanding through to others inside. i’m not a professional with this disorder, i just have it. i’m trying to make certain we all understand that she is not to be called mom. i need to get many on the same page with the decision made to let our emotions catch up with our actions.
i was thinking the other day, what do i want to be other than someone’s daughter? there has to be something else i want just as badly. yes. i want to be useful. sometimes i don’t feel useful. i’m useful.