i just missed my first counselling appointment in almost a year. i booked it over a month ago - it’s something that i desperately needed and i fucking forgot all about it.
suggest shows to watch so i don’t have to think about how shitty everything is right now? i breezed through all of downton abbey, true detective, and my mad fat diary in the past few weeks so uhh that’s where i’m at. films are appreciated too, i just need to do something that will help me forget about my shitty life for the next few hours.
riley bought a calendar & i really hope it helps me.
i was on the street car growing more anxious after each stop because i knew we were getting closer. things are roughly as i remember them, though someone has finally painted “650 1/2” on the black door. i’ve passed it a few times, shakily pointing it out to whoever i’m with, “that’s where he lived.”
the last time i was there i drank a whole bottle of wine with margarida in an alley and i don’t think we spoke a word to each other - but i know we were both speaking to you.
Tonight is the night I carve out my ovaries with a plastic spoon
feeling this.holy fuck I am in so much pain and I’m scared to take anymore ibuprofen/Tylenol/naproxen today because I’ve been taking all three and nothing is helping.
sometimes i just want someone to cry with.
ugh yeah. i just want to silently sit with people. we can all do our own things but just be quiet and in the same space.
step 1: destroy puzzle
step 2: take over the world
when i finally crawled into bed this morning (sometime around 7am), riley had woken up from a nightmare and immediately put his arms around me and cuddled. there is something especially tender about exhaustion and terror in the early morning hours.
anxiety is making me so nauseated. i can’t sleep because of it, because of something i’ve put off for over a week that really needs to be done for tomorrow morning. fibro fog is real, combined with how depressed i’ve been lately means that i haven’t done anything or felt like doing anything. it’s almost march and i thought it was december. i’m a part time student looking for a job. i only have one class and i’m pretty sure i’m failing it. i’ve only been called back for one interview and i’m pretty sure i won’t get it. i just sit and read or furiously clean the house or watch the cats or try not to do anything at all.
the problem is, i don’t want to do anything with anyone. i miss my partner when he’s at work but i’m immediately annoyed when he gets home (for absolutely no reason and i hate myself for it). so many of my friends are going through serious problems and are hurting, but i’ve had to back off from helping them, even when i was asked to help. things were getting too real. nothing can be real until the snow melts and the wind ceases it’s chilled grip on my bones. this has been the longest and most difficult winter i can remember and i don’t know what i would do without riley most days.
this is the second cold i’ve had in as many weeks and i know that staying up all night is going to destroy me for tomorrow. my doctor keeps saying that resting and sleeping are the most important things i can do, but i still don’t know how to do those very efficiently. it’s all or nothing. and either way i feel like shit.
cuddling & napping with a cat: there isn’t a more comforting thing in the whole world
doctor prescribed cuddles basically
feeling like a snarky piece of shit for all eternity.
So today Evan and I decided to burn some negative things (writing, photos, poetry, old keepsakes with bad memories) that we were holding on to and it was beautiful. Just to watch the words that I had written at my absolute worst burn up into nothing was amazing because it was a symbolized that that is not who I am anymore and that I don’t need those things making me feel bad. I don’t really know how to word it, I guess it sort of solidified my recovery.
I don’t think I’ll really ever feel free of that anxiety or the sadness I felt for so long, but at least when I go looking it don’t have anything that I can pick up and hold and read that shows how bad things were because dwelling on those things just makes it harder to move forward.
Evan and I burned things for different reasons today but I’m so proud of both of us. For growing, for moving forward, for being as strong as we are and for being brave in the face of so many adversity’s.
Remember darlings, there is always hope, there is always light and there are 1000 tomorrow’s that can be better.
I cant say anything nearly as beautiful about burning those things yet but sometimes when you love some shit, you need to let that shit go ‘cause it can’t love you back. I let go and have been crying for hours at a time but I’ll survive. Moral of story..Just burn things forever.
this is so great, i’m so proud of both of you <3
i’ve always been a good liar but i’m trying to be honest with people when they ask for my help. gone are the days that i would tell people what they wanted to hear, to soothe the pain and heartbreak, to calm their souls and give them hope. it’s a temporary bandaid solution to a problem that runs so much deeper than that. people have tried to fill my head with enough nonsense, not understanding that i am the dreamiest of idealists, that my head and heart are already full of watery rubbish.
how pisces of me.
tell people what they need to hear. tell them what is realistic and don’t submit to a fantasy narrative: could haves and should haves and the possibilities of mistakes. i’ve made mistakes, we all have, but some people really do know what they need to be content with themselves and survive. what feels helpful in the moment could actually be devastating to the healing process. the world is plagued so deeply by people who speak without thinking, but i’ll touch on that more a bit later.
i want to be helpful but there is only so much you can unload on a person who is already struggling. this winter has been one of the harshest i can remember, this diagnosis has made me absolutely miserable in the past week and i’ve grown weary and skeptical of everything around me. in some ways, i’m more content than i’ve ever been, but i don’t think that there is a person who understands me the way benjamin did, or who i respect the way i respected him. the handful of people i can think of are bogged down with their own struggles, and to be honest, i enjoy the intimacy of being alone with my thoughts, however disturbing they are.
i’m telling you what you want to hear.
i’m okay. i’m a good liar.
having a chronic illness is grim. having one centred in pain is grimmer. combining that with the realization that this is something i have to live with for the rest of my life, plus my depression, plus my anxiety, plus my introversion, plus my empathy means that everything and everyone is exhausting. i don’t want to talk to anyone about anything that is troublesome because i absorb it. i can’t sleep even with sleeping pills. when i can’t sleep my body feels so exhausted that i can’t even move. i’m so close to finishing my degree that i can taste it, but i’ve missed three weeks of class in a row and i’m unintentionally sabotaging myself. i don’t want to leave my apartment because the cold sticks to my bones long after my skin is warmed, the greyness assaults my eyes and god forbid anyone actually try to have a conversation with me. i stay secluded because i need to.
my grandmother had some choice words to say about my favourite extended relatives when i was a child. my aunt had a sloppy, unkempt house and could not hold a job. she was ridiculed behind closed doors, and i never understood it, but at the end of last year, i realized that she had severe depression. she had lost a child, she was struggling with a variety of illnesses, both physical and mental, including fibromyalgia. it’s taken me so long to realize that the reasons for her messy house was because of all that. she was one of my inspirations as a teenager because she was kind and had a good sense of humour and was an introvert and lived how she wanted to live, but i’m realizing now that the last part isn’t necessarily true. she lived how she needed to live, and she continues to do so. she’s an inspiration now more than ever.
as always, cut the negative people out of your life. this includes the people who mean well but have verbal diarrhoea and don’t think before they speak. in many ways, they are almost more damaging than the people who are aware of their vindictiveness. non-apologies are easy to spot, especially when people aren’t good liars to being with. quiet people are the best liars.
i’m okay. i’m a good liar.