I feel like I’m being beaten to the ground from all angles. My period adds to the assault, worsening my already terrible mental health and sleep, bringing severe pain and making me sick. There is an ugly physical driver to all my issues. Often I can literally feel all the chemicals/hormones running rampant in my body. Shortly after I got my period this week, there was a day when I was swamped with the worst feeling which I cannot even name or describe. There were so many things I wanted to do- write, sleep, go to the park, answer texts, see people, finish my shopping, open the parcels that have arrived and return the items that don’t fit, clean up my house, do a better job at looking after myself- but I couldn’t do anything, and I still struggle to. These days just getting up and filling a glass of water feels like running a marathon. Then knocking over a glass of water by my bad, which I had managed to fill, feels like the end of the world. When I got my period I had a total freak out when I heard my dad arrive home, terrified of him approaching me. I almost cancelled with my therapist, who I go for walks with. Thankfully he was running late as well, so I had a bit more time to finish the piece of writing I was determined to complete, get dressed and get myself together. I packed some diazepam in case I had a panic attack. When I saw him I think he could sense something was pretty off with me. I tied a top around my head to cover my acne, I had lost more weight, I was dressed up like a little girl in a pink Mary Blair pinup dress with a train printed on it, white lacy socks and tbars. We lay on the grass for a bit and I started to feel my whole demeanor turn into a little child. The park was strangely quiet.
“Can you leave me here?” I asked him.
He paused.
“I don’t feel comfortable,” he said. Continue reading “The fight for wellness”
I hate who I have become. I feel like such foul company to live with. I feel like a vicious animal hiding in its cave, ready to bite someone’s head off if they come near it. My dad passed my room too many times today. When I went to leave he passed again, making me angrily thrust the sliding door shut and retreat. I just feel so shit all the time. Everything is so hard. Why does everything have to be so hard? I finally managed to fill out the form to have a stall at an upcoming afternoon market today, only to find I require some bloody Public Liability Insurance. It will probably cost me more than I earn at markets selling cheap badges. I want to bawl my eyes out but can never have a proper cry. My body hurts, my soul hurts. I have PMS on top of everything else. My dad chose the wrong day to approach me. He came in to ask if I wanted the bloody gardener who the NDIS covers to come tomorrow. The gardener’s meant to assist me, but he just gives me meltdowns with his loud machinery. My dad interrupted my addiction to the laptop. I wanted to scream at him. But at least we decided to call off the gardener, which I since regret as my tomato plants have not been growing and are drying up (maybe it’s just as simple as not watering them each day, though sadly my mum says it’s a bit late in the season to save them now). My dad came into my den a second time today to give me some corn. HISS. He put the bowl on my bed and I ignored him. I was sure he could feel the anger radiating out of me like heat from a fire. Continue reading “Gender identity and it/its pronouns”
“I’ll stand by you
I’ll stand by you
Won’t let nobody hurt you
I’ll stand by you
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I’ll never desert you
I’ll stand by you”
– The Pretenders – I’ll Stand By You
I sit here blowing tissues and a few tears escaping my rein, still tormented by my body. Last night I had a dream about Damien, my disability worker who told me he thought I’d become too dependent on him and wanted to cut back on our sessions. I have written a few posts about him, such as “Everything good turns to shit“, where he basically destroyed my stay in a private hospital. He was repeating the trauma of all my other workers. He was distorting everything I’d told him. When we were in the car once I was talking about the importance of disability workers, where, for some clients, it’s their only contact with the world and they see them more than anyone else in their life. Damien seemed to worry he was stopping me from seeing my friends, which is not true. Since he’s been on leave, I have not seen more of my friends. Continue reading “Damien”
“What if I wanted to break?
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn’t do this anymore
What would you do?”
– NO NAME FACES, THE KILL
My ear pain since the otoscope has not improved at all over the past few weeks, which I believe is why my shopping addiction and other dysfunctional coping mechanisms have got so bad. I’ve been spiralling out of control. Last night I was panicking. I had a little voice in me saying “help me help me” as I impulsively threw away $500 and then tried to take back what I had just done, begging the seller on ebay to cancel my order and refund me. I was having trouble contacting them as I was not logged in when I made the purchase. I discovered a super cool Japanese clothing brand (help!) and was on some international version of ebay and made the purchase as a “guest”. Continue reading “You are not too sensitive. This world is too brutal.”
It’s 9:30AM and I’m still awake. I didn’t sleep all night again due to my shopping compulsion, and I’m not even tired. I think the screen kills all the melatonin in my brain. I don’t know what my dad makes of my erratic hours, up all night and even during the morning now. I went to use the bathroom at the other end of the house and heard the neighbour making noise with a whipper snipper or something again. They will make noise as soon as they are legally able to. It really distressed me, especially as I have told them I am sick, have trouble sleeping at night and need to sleep during the day. It distresses me to the point I have nightmares about being woken by them now. I need the safety of being able to sleep when I can without being woken by a selfish, privileged prick. Continue reading “Confusing feelings about an abusive relationship”
“Hooked on this poison, trapped in it’s deadly scene. Lost in it’s cruel remarks. Every hit takes me further from reality’s reach.” Lost in the chemistry (Chris Brown Music)
I don’t have a great deal to report in this post. I have got into art again and have spent the last few days shopping for new art supplies online. It has become an extension of my shopping addiction, which was mainly fashion. I have an “addictive personality” as it’s been called where as soon as I stop one addiction, another addiction replaces it. I’ve been off social media, which I was addicted to, for a few days. During this time I have spent at least $2000 on art supplies, which will be way more than I will probably ever earn selling $2 badges through my small art business. I’m staying up all night shopping. Recently, I sat on the laptop for 20+ hours straight. I wasn’t even tired, though that next night I paid for it. I was nauseous and so sick and I wondered if I was going to die. Continue reading “Shopping addict”
“Do you know how it feels to crave a body made of steel?” Lauren Aquilina, Irrelevant
It’s been over a week since I last posted. It has really just been the same shit, different week. I still have pain and discomfort in my ears from when the doctor examined them with his instrument. It has not improved at all, which is depressing. I worry I will take this to the grave with me. He gave me some ear drops which I found out contains antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory, cortisteroid drug. I haven’t tried it yet as I’m scared to put anything else in my ears after this experience, but I’m getting desperate. He said it didn’t look like an infection so I’m not sure why he’s given me ear drops containing antibiotics. I don’t want to take antibiotics for an infection I don’t even have. I will be seeing him again tomorrow and asking for some ear drops which only contain the cortisteroids. Cortisteroids is something my friend, who has a similar health condition, was suggesting too. Continue reading “Update: ear sensitivity, moods, wild nights, psychosis, hormones, annoying neighbours, losing things, gay bands, alter egos”
I don’t even know who I am sometimes. Sometimes I feel I am just something created to survive something no body should have to experience. Maybe the person you think you know is just the product of a terrible life. A defense mechanism. A personality molded by a sadistic creator. If my life had of been different I’d probably be a very different person. If I seem “out of character”, don’t wonder what has highjacked me or whether my social media account has been hacked. Ask if the person you thought you knew was real.
hsphaven 