I haven’t felt a part of the festive season for a long time. It is hard being surrounded by merry songs and celebrations when all you want is to die. I have suffered so much loss and painful goodbyes around this time. Right now another important therapeutic relationship is coming to an end. Even though I have been through this so many times before it doesn’t get any easier. It just gets worse.
I lie down and look at the stars above. My case worker is like a star, a light in my darkness but so far away. I dream my feelings for him are reciprocated and we hang out outside of the clinic, doing fun things together like going on a rollercoaster. But the reality is I mean nothing to him. I’m just the freak he has to see fortnightly who wears crazy hats and headdresses, goes to ecstatic dance parties, lines her bedroom wall with aluminium foil and sees angels in scrunched up chocolate wrappers. He will be able to move on with his life, replacing me with another client, while mine is destroyed.
The other evening I discovered a video which really helped me. It is called “If Your Life is Falling Apart, Congratulations!” The video offers the perspective that I am basically outgrowing my case worker. I am losing my case worker because he was only a match for the energy I used to have, and my energy is changing. I am starting to vibrate on a whole new level. I need to lose my case worker to clear the way for the new life I’ve been asking for and the new person I am becoming. I do feel like the clinic is holding me back. It is basically an extension of the hospital. You must be very sick be part of their service. They will discharge people even before they are fully healed, like slapping a cast on someone and sending them on their way. So, I have no incentive to get better and must remain in the sick role. Getting better means losing the one person who I feel gets me better than anyone else in the world. Attachment issues are safety issues. Without this attachment I don’t feel safe in the world. I don’t feel like somebody’s “got” me when I fall. It is a little like the way children are attached to their parents. Their parents become a “safe base” from which to explore the world. The child knows they can always return to their safe base. Losing an attachment figure is such a deep, primitive wound. The brain registers it as a physical threat to life.
Right now it feels like I am staring down an abyss which slowly but surely threatens to swallow me up. I’m going through the motions, somehow managing to deny this inescapable fate. I am tiptoeing through a minefield. Sometimes I land on a mine and blow up. This is what happened yesterday when I saw my psychologist. She told me my case worker had emailed her telling her he will be discharging me. I went quiet for a bit, then threw the tissue box on the floor, told her I’m fucking sick of the lot of them, and left the session. I spent the next two hours lying on the floor of the bathroom unable to move or speak. When I finally returned home I knocked myself out with alcohol. I quite like the dizzy, numbing, intoxicated feeling of too much alcohol. It cushions me from everything. Unfortunately it wears off rather quick though. Last night, after the alcohol wore off, I sat up all night writing letters to my case worker. I told him to go fuck himself. I got my dad to deliver the letter today, just in time for my case worker to read tomorrow when he returns to work. I am a bit shocked that I actually gave him the letter, and I am probably not going to get much sleep as I’m anxious what his response will be. I have never got this angry at him in all the time we’ve known each other. But I think my anger is my friend right now.
Here is a picture of my bedside right now. I feel psychologically and emotionally raped by my case worker. It’s like my mind has been invaded. My thoughts, my fears, my emotions, my dreams, my disorders, my secrets, everything about me has been taken and dissected by him. I have been stripped bare and now he is dumping me with nothing left. I find myself relating to the disturbing song “Daddy” by Korn… the fatigue from so much trauma, the agony and the anger.
“I fuckin’ hate youOh, you fucker Motherfucker, I fuckin’ hate you Fuck you, you son of a bitch You fuckin’ ruined my life I wanted to die I’m sick of it, motherfucker You fuckin’ bitch I hate you I fuckin’ hate you I hate you Piece of shit”
Leave a Reply