Apology

I would like to apologize to everyone in my life. None of this is sarcasm. I mean all that I say.

Mum, I know I could not be the daughter you wanted. I wanted my freedom too much and didn't want to be responsible for anyone - not even myself. It wasn't that I didn't love you, or that I didn't want to take care of you, help you. I love you so much, you don't even know. I know I was a pill to be with. I still am, but you wouldn't know because I'm never around. I'm not a good daughter. I should have been better. I'm sorry.

To my nephews, you are both so important to me. I've loved you both since the moment I held you in the hospital and I will never stop loving you, even long after I am gone. Please make different choices than I did, and never stop doing the right thing. I am sorry I was never around. I hope the times I was, you were happy. I'm so very sorry.

To all my friends, I am sorry that I was in your life for so long. You didn't deserve that.

To all of my former friends, I am sorry for whatever it was that ended our friendships. I am sorry I met you. I am sorry that you were inflicted with my presence for so long, and I am glad you are gone now. Be happy. Be free. Don't think about me ever again. 

To my best friend, don't let anything stop you from moving forward. It's stressful, it's scary, but you can do it. I am sorry that I could never be the person that you confided in. Whenever you had troubles, I always asked but you never told me. That's fair. I am sorry that I wasn't enough. I didn't know how to be. But never for a second doubt that I loved you as much as I could.

To the rest of my family, I am sorry I disappointed all of you.

Finally, my husband. I don't even know where to begin. I am sorry that I didn't do as well as you did. I am sorry that I contributed nothing. I am sorry for all the times you watched me cry or the times we fought. I am sorry for ever being angry with you for a single second. I am sorry that I couldn't be more useful. I am sorry that I am not a good wife. I am sorry that I ranted to you when I was upset. I am sorry I didn't do things you asked me to. I am sorry for literally everything. It should have been perfect, but I failed you. I love you more than anything in this world and I am closer to you than I will ever be with another living thing. My depression, my suicidal thoughts - none of that was your fault. Never blame yourself. Never.

To everyone else out there, for once I have nothing to say. Life is a hard game to play. Some give up, some don't. Good luck.

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Welcome Back, Isolation and Misanthropy

Have you ever been so mad at someone that your stress levels peaked and your blood pressure rose so sharply that you fainted? I have - quite recently, in fact. It was not my finest moment, and I'm finding it difficult to let go of my rage because I've had no closure on the subject. I was far too hasty and didn't give myself time to say everything that I needed to say. Now I am left with this anger, this sizzling ball of darkness, and nowhere to direct it. But energy is energy, even if it's bad energy, and it needs to go somewhere. Since I'm not directing it outward at my friends and family, I'm directing it inward at myself. It's manifesting in self-doubt, depression, suicidal thoughts, insomnia, decrease in appetite to a point where I'm barely eating each day... It's just slowly eating away at me.

I wanted to talk about it to my therapist because it helps more than the group, but then I remembered that I've left both because I kept hearing the ex friend telling me that I don't deserve help because she doesn't have it. I thought I'd talk to my friends, but she's made it so that I'm doubting everyone in my life. I all see them as potentially horrible and harmful people. And it's this potential that keeps me from going to them when I need help.

I never trusted this girl. I told her bits and pieces here and there that I felt she couldn't really do harm with, mostly because she was constantly nagging me about it and at the time, I wanted her friendship. So I tested the waters and felt out the situation. Sometimes it would go well - for a while. Inevitably, it would always turn to shit. When it did, I went to another friend of ours. Unfortunately, my reliable confidant is having less and less time because she is moving to another country in just two or three weeks. When she does, the time zones will be so different that we'll hardly get to speak to one another. (Besides that, I've stopped confiding in her because I don't want her more stressed than she already is; I struggle to keep positive and supportive for her, but I do it because that's what friends do.)

Okay, that's rough. But I still have my husband, right? Since he's on the road 90% of the time, I thought I could skype him once or twice a week to talk about things. Boy, was I wrong. When I needed him and opened up, I was met with a blank stare followed by laughing, followed by "girls start so much drama." This naturally spiraled into more laughing and criticism related to females and not to the situation. Needless to say, I stopped talking to him. And that's made me feel more alone than I have in my whole life thus far.

I like being in control and I don't like admitting when people get to me, but this girl really fucked me up. I've had people do that before in the past, immature people right out of high school. I never fully recovered or opened up to anyone, really. Now this girl has made it so that I see villains in everyone I've ever sort of trusted. She's made it so that every second I'm tense and stressed, waiting for an attack out of nowhere (and over nothing) like she used to do. I'm second guessing everything and doubting everyone. I'm skittish, I hardly leave the house, I don't tell anyone anything, I've left my therapy - ALL of my therapy - and my health is declining from the stress.

This is the only safe place I have left. My only haven, my last resort.

[Trigger Warning]

But this can only help take the edge off. It's nice to get everything that's buzzing in my head written down so that I can see it more clearly, but it's like shouting into a void. (Score one for tying into a previous post.) No echo, no voices shouting back. Empty nothingness that will never be heard.

I feel like that void is slowly expanding toward me and I don't know how to stop it. I fear that when it finally reaches me, I will have given up and taken my life.

I wonder what they'll say about me when I'm dead...
And if there's an afterlife, I'll be watching and silently saying that I hated them all.

Silent Screaming

Suicide Trigger Warning

I never tell anyone when I'm suicidal. I know that I should, I just can't bring myself to do it. When I'm suicidal alone, I feel like that's an honest emotion. But when I tell people I'm suicidal, I feel silly like a child asking for attention, and I'm afraid that's how they see it. So I don't tell anyone. I can't. I keep it bottled in and try to self medicate with cannabis and alcohol or prescription painkillers, and I pretend that everything is okay. Or withdraw from people. Because "fake it till you make it" or "hide so they don't see" are what I was taught growing up. That to express your emotions was self absorbed because you'd ruin everyone else's good time.

It's hard to get out of that mindset that was drilled into you during your formative years. The famous saying goes, "Give me a boy until the age of twelve, and I will give you a man." That's because from the time your born until the time you're twelve (your formative years), you're learning things that will become the foundation of who you are. These years have the most impact on your life out of any. And what happened to me up until I was twelve? Let's just say I learned that the most valuable thing I could do in life is what I was told to do. Sit down, shut up, hide your emotions and bottle your feelings, don't have an ounce of extra body weight, obey what you're told, don't ask questions, grow up and graduate college to take care of everyone else, get married and have lots of children, and be a perfect ray of sunshine all the time.

Have I done that? Well. I got married. I've been a disappointment everywhere else. And normally, given that list, you'd think that was a good thing. But not when everyone around me says otherwise. I know I'm a failure. You don't have to say it. But they do. All the time. "Why aren't you in college? When are you going to have children? You need to get realistic about your life because you need to make real money and take care of me when I get old. You're getting fat, you need to diet. Stop with the tattoos, that's trashy and you look like trash." Etc.

And lately it's not just that. So many things are changing. My husband is away longer, my best friend is moving to the exact opposite side of the world, my other friends are still in the "single life, get drunk every weekend" phase. My nana is being condescending to me because I choose not to write my letters in cursive, even though my handwriting is super neat and professional looking. My uncle won't talk to me because my depression caught the best of me and I never cashed his wedding check before the six month cut off (to be fair though, my husband didn't know where he put it for the last four of those months). And even though I try to explain, I get no response. My dad keeps spending time with my brother and asking about me, trying to get back in my life. My mum's health is getting worse and her spine is pulling away from the muscle, so she's putting on so much pressure to move in with me - which I don't want to happen under any circumstance. My husband doesn't want it either but he offers me no alternative solution. It's just "I don't want her here, but I'm too nice to say it and will deny it if asked. She's your mother. You disappoint her." Which is fair to say that she's my mother and I should handle it, but he has to help me, right? As my husband, shouldn't he help me find a solution that I can present to her as an alternative other than leaving me with no other reason than "no way in hell"?

I'm just not happy anymore. I hate how I look, I hate how I'm going to look when I change my appearance the way my husband told me to. I hate my brain and everything else... I'm just not happy.

And I've stopped seeing my therapist. I ended it. I just can't go anymore because every time that I do, I keep hearing my ex friend saying "you have a therapist, I don't." And the more irrational (and unfortunately, the loudest) part of me says, "you don't deserve this; if you were suffering on your own, people would like you better." Every time I had a session, I kept hearing that over and over and all I could think was "I shouldn't be here. I don't deserve to be here." So I cut off the sessions and I stopped going to my support group. I told them I was done. I keep lying to my husband and friends and mum about it so that they think everything is just great, but instead I stay at home and cry and look at myself in the mirror while naming all the things I don't like about myself.

More than once, I've craved cutting myself again. I've craved the ease of physical pain. That I can deal with. That I can understand and fix. Honestly, I just wish that I can close my eyes and stop existing. But I'm afraid of what comes after that. Not the dying, but... the unknown. Is it blackness? Nothingness? A lot of people who've died for several minutes at a time say so. And I'm so terrified that there's nothing next, that I'm wrong about an afterlife. I've gotten a self help book on existential death anxiety, but it's only making it worse. I don't sleep anymore and my panic attacks have increased. I'm at my wit's end.

If I wasn't afraid of the nothingness after death, I would die.

Don't Pretend

Don't pretend you're heartbroken
Don't pretend you care about it at all
Don't sit there and cry and tell people that I'm bad
Don't tell them that I don't care
     That I never cared
You can't grieve and be the victim
And then say that it didn't matter
     That it wasn't important or worth it
Don't pretend that you drop everything for me
     Because we both know that I never let that happen
     I never put my guard down long enough
Don't pretend that I am never there for you
     When so many nights, I've listened to you rant and cry
     And threaten to end your life or run off to Paris
     Like Paris is heaven and the cure-all
Don't pretend that I matter to you
Don't pretend that you were my friend
Don't pretend that you listen and follow through on your promises
     Because I only ever walk away and sit in silence when I hurt
     Because that's how I deal with it
          I am not you, do not try to make me be
          This is who I am and what I need, so listen when I say it
          And stop saying that you always help me
          Because you never do, you just push and push and give me your darkness
     I don't want it
     I have enough of my own
So take your darkness back
And take all your poison too
Throw your poison down in the ground
Give your darkness to someone who has light
But don't pretend
Never pretend
That I didn't love you and give you what I had
And don't pretend that I had light to spare...

Anger, Depression, and Letting Go

Sort of suicidal trigger warning.

I've been trying to give some self-love here. That doesn't mean masturbation. (Well, maybe not haha.) Basically right now, I've just been playing violent videogames, drinking alcohol, and watching YouTube. I'm trying to remember that it's okay to be angry. It's okay to want to punch someone. It's okay to take time for myself and tell people to fuck off. It's okay to block to spare my sanity. It's okay because I'm human and I'm not going to suppress my emotions anymore.

I'm trying to sort things out and see what I'm feeling. I mostly feel betrayed. I feel like people don't listen to me when I tell them what I need. They always say to communicate what I need, that they'll be there to support me. But when I tell them no negativity - even if I previously told them otherwise, I recently was very clear on my stance - they continue to spout it, then get pissed off when I stand my ground. What they're essentially telling me is that it doesn't matter that their negativity is going to push me to suicide. They need me, so I have to just sacrifice my peace of mind to help them - even though they have other friends and means of support. And who the fuck begrudges someone a therapist? "You have one, I don't." There are other resources - hotlines, forums, online groups, even a free app where you can text for support. There are resources. And I am not her only friend. Why does it all have to be put on me when she knows what kind of space I'm in?

And then she accuses me of not caring about her. Not loving her. Just because I want to put my sanity and mental health first. She was all on board with this until it stopped suiting her, and that tells me that she's the one who doesn't care. Which hurts deeply. And then to see pop up in my feed that this isn't something "worth mentioning." Well, insult to injury definitely. Not that I'm one to talk, ranting on my blog to thousands of strangers. But at least I think this was significant. At least I think this whole thing matters. At least I say that it affected me. This really just reinforces that I don't matter. I am not useful to her, so she's comfortable picking fights and telling me to block her.

Or is this yet another of her sick, twisted games? Because she's admitted multiple times in the past that she'll push people away to see if they'll stay. It's unhealthy to mess with people like that. But for once, I'm resolved to make myself not give a damn. She can guilt trip all she wants. She can act like I'm the monster because I don't drop everything to coddle her when she has other people to turn to. She can be passive aggressive and pick fights because it's "just the space" she's in. But you know what? It won't be with me. Not anymore. Because I'm choosing sanity. I'm choosing life. I'm choosing not to cut my wrists or drink myself into a coma like I want to right now. I'm choosing to let her go and live my life free of her drama and negativity, free of her aggression and accusations, free of all of her mind games. Because if she won't care enough not to keep pushing me when I'm standing on the edge, then I won't care if I ever speak to her again.

It hurts for now, and I'll probably have moments of weakness where I write dozens of messages and delete them. I'll probably cry and keep thinking about killing myself some more. I'll probably stay in bed and stop eating, maybe write more rage-fueled blogs or make myself sick with the stress of it. But I know that it'll eventually get better. I'll stop trying to end it. I'll stop writing groveling messages. I'll get out of bed and shower, brush my hair. I'll eat a snack and play with my cats. I'll be human again. And I'll do that all on my own - without worrying about what she's going to do next.

Remember, guys. Abusive relationships aren't just for parents or significant others. They can include your "friends" too. So if your stomach is constantly in knots because they are starting to get in "moods", if you lose sleep because of the things they say, if you doubt yourself and the kind of person you are, if they play mind games with you just to see what you'll do and if you'll stay, if you sink into deep depression each time they fight with you - step back and let them go. You're worth more than that.

A Summary of Fuck You

Me: I'm stressed and can't handle negativity, so please don't.

Person: [negativity]

Me: I need to mute you.

Person: [more negativity]

Me: Tell someone else, please.

Person: [picks a fight]

Me: Okay, you're clearly choosing not to listen because you don't care.

Person: [accusations, blame, negativity]

Me: Quit picking a fight, jerk.

Person: I'm not a jerk. [more negativity and stress and accusations]

Person: [passive aggressive]

Person: Maybe you should block me.

Me: [block]

And that, people, is how you lose a friend for standing up for yourself and trying to take care of yourself. Though, admittedly, I was not so calm and used much more colorful language because they've done this a dozen times since I've put up that post about no negativity. I'm just so tired of it. It's so much bullshit. I specifically told people NOT to come to me because I can't and won't help. Guess what? You're not the exception to the rule. I need to survive now, and of that means cutting out a toxin, so be it.

Always do what's best for your sanity, even if it means kicking people to the curb.

Bye, Felicia.

Tolerance and Acceptance: My Christmas Miracle

In keeping with the positive tone I'm setting for this new year (wonder how long it'll last), I should mention that there was a Christmas miracle of sorts for me this year.

Anyone who knows me (which is very likely none of you) knows that I love tattoos. I have six so far and I plan on many, many more. Addicted? Maybe. But each tattoo means something to me and I'm very proud of them. My mother? You can say that she's less than enthusiastic. This has always cut me deep, even if I understand why. But my tattoos are part of me. Hating them and expressing it is the same as telling me I'm too ugly or too short, or too anything (or not enough) for your liking. It's personal and it hurts - even more so because these tattoos are something I chose. The truth is that when I got my first tattoo, she cried and called me a branded cow.

Before everyone gets up in arms about it, you have to understand that her generation viewed it as something associated with the morally corrupt, the criminals and scum of the world. Honestly, they seem to have overlooked the sailor niche - which is bizarre for my family because they've been Navy for generations and generations. (But I digress.) Not only did her generation frown on it, her strict (and sometimes emotionally and physically abusive) family loathed anything out of the "norm." They were straight laced, Christian, military family with dark dynamics that we won't go into. So, needless to say, my mother learned a lot of things were "bad" that are now considered acceptable. Tattoos, for one.

Now, I'd been working on her for quite some time. I'd been saying that I want to get more tattoos, discussing which ones, talking about my old ones, and so on. Mostly trying to get her to expect more and not be so shocked, but also to try to get her more comfortable with the idea in general.

So here we are at the table at my in-laws', playing a game one of our friends got in the Christmas exchange game we do every year. It's warm and I tugged up my fleece leggings to cool off. And that's when she noticed the ghost tattoo on my leg that I've been hiding for six months (that my childhood friend drew custom for me out of the blue; so it's really special to me and an honor to have had him tattoo it on me). And she's predictably upset. She goes on, as usual, to say that I should stop getting tattoos. They're atrocious and in poor judgement. "And I don't really like any of them. Except that one." And she actually touches my forearm on the tattoo - something she's always avoided since I started getting them. Lo and behold, it's my very first tattoo - The Cruxshadows tri-fix.

"The symbol for our band is a cross (a tri-bar Eastern Orthodox cross, to be precise) with a field of light on one side and a field of dark on the other. What is important here is the idea of exclusion - or outsiders - because when all is flooded with light, the cross will still render a shadow; a place the light can't reach." - Rogue, lead singer of The Cruxshadows

This gives me hope. Not just for my mum to like and accept my tattoos. It makes me hope that people who have learned to hate something (or some people) their whole life can learn to change and accept it if they're exposed to it enough and are taught more about it. It makes me hope that knowledge can chase away fear and hate, and exposure can lead to acceptance. If my mum can learn to love tattoos, which she cried about and hated and verbally denounced every chance she had, then maybe people who spew hate and prejudice can learn to overcome it. Maybe, just maybe, they can learn to see people as people - no matter if they have different social status, skin color, or ways of expressing themselves. No matter if they come from far away, or love someone that was once thought unacceptable.

That would really be a miracle.

Hello, 2018: It's All About Perspective

Backstory time!
Since around May 2017, I've been in gradually worsening pain from my wisdom teeth. I only have two, both on top. But let me tell you.. they've been raising hell. The one on the left hasn't really been a problem. It hasn't broken through the gum (it seems to have stopped moving) and the tooth is coming in straight. The one on the right, however? It broke through the gum and came in at an angle. And one day when I was sick, I had a lozenge in my mouth for my sore throat. I fell because I was dizzy and fainted a little, biting down on the lozenge when I hit the ground. It cracked my wisdom tooth which has since impacted on the molar next to it.

For those of you who may not know, this is bad news.

When a wisdom tooth impacts, you want to get that sucker out as soon as possible. Where it pushes on your molar is where it creates a host of problems, including pain and possible infection from trapped bacteria and debris. Brushing has little to no effect, and flossing only goes so far; it can't go into the gum or very far under the tooth - if you can get it between them at all.

Since I've gone seven months without it getting pulled out (due to a research trip to the Virgin Islands and busy surgeon offices), it's been gradually worsening - to the point that the root and/or nerve is exposed and little bits of the tooth break off now and then. I floss and brush after every meal and any time the tooth starts to ache. It triggers my already chronic migraines (which makes me sensitive to temperature around me, light, and loud sounds), makes the entire right side of my skull ache, has given me a near constant fever (between 100.4F and 101.5F), and makes me feel like I have the world's worst earache (because they share a nerve cluster). Why do I tell you all this...?

Perspective.
You see, I'm a firm believer in the essentiality of suffering. It's part of the human condition. Without bad, there's no good. Without sorrow, there's no joy. By the same token: without pain, there's no relief. I learned from this pain. I will never take being pain free for granted again. I know what it's like to have to shut myself away in a silent, dark room while I want to be out doing things just because I'm in constant agony. I know what it's like to have to wear sunglasses indoors like an asshole just because the lights make my migraine worse and nauseate me. I know what it's like to need to wear earplugs or noise canceling headphones, but can't because anything touching my right ear causes pain and makes me wish I was dead. I know what it's like to starve because food/food temperature is too much to handle and nothing is helping. I know what it's like to overdose on both acetaminophen and ibuprofen. It's not fun.

But in comparison, just existing without pain is glorious. It gives me a brighter outlook and fills me with gratitude. Food tastes just a little better, friends are a little more welcome, and my attitude is a little brighter. And, guys? It's so hard to be depressed when you're feeling so good, so relieved, and so grateful.

In three days' time, my wisdom teeth will finally be gone. All in all, that's a pretty fantastic way to start the New Year, and I will carry this perspective and gratitude through the year. I'll remember the long months where crying was a norm and everything was hell, and I'll smile because I won't have to endure that again. I will be able to sleep through the night, rest my head on my hand, eat cold and hot foods, smile and laugh without cringing... And I hope that attitude will inspire a positive change in me this year, one that will help stave off my depression, return my patience and compassion, help me keep focus, and be just a little bit more human. I just have to remember to look back at where I've been and be thankful that it's behind me.

Because when it comes down to it, it's all about perspective.