Posts Tagged ‘frustration’

I thought I could do it. I thought it wouldn’t matter since I’ve spent plenty of time alone in the past. The problem or difference is that usually, I find ways to numb myself to the pain of being alone. This time, I haven’t done that. I become depressed and in a state of despair when alone. I’m just speculating here that the reason I do can be attributed to a long history of abuse and neglect. Constantly on my mind is the fact that my biological family is not present for me in any form. Tonight seems exceptionally hard. Instead of inducing harm or numbing myself tonight, I think it’s time I convey my message in words.

According to ongoing recent research, people who have a history of severe attachment problems tend not to do well in life. I’m sick of my disconnect from the world. I want to immerse into the world, not hide from it. A pit of despair formed in me throughout the day. A telltale sign that I’m starting to feel unwell is when I seek out triggering videos. For the past few weeks (or months?), I’ve been watching these sorts of videos or clips online.

Tonight, I needed to cry, and I’m watching something that’s fulfilling that need well. Yet, it began to hit home in how relevant it was to my current situation and I began to think. My thoughts just take off to the moon once prompted. I was reminded of how I don’t have a family, how I have no relationship with even the one person I want to-my brother. He’s sick, physically sick. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for over 20 years for everyone. He believes I’m sick, except that it’s serious mental illness.

The places I’ve been in treat people like animals. After a while people will embody the aspect that they are treated as. I’ve acted like an animal in the past. My brother has no wish to see that I am no longer that person. I feel a bit crazy tonight, but hey, I’m starting to think that’s actually something many people experience. It’s only when it becomes chronic that maybe it can have an attribution to mental illness. I’m not mental, I’m in the process of repairing my insane past. It doesn’t have to define me. My history will not defeat me tonight.



My emotions are usually compartmentalized and I can shut them off; I do not have the same efficacy when it comes to the larger picture though, my brain.

My educational pursuits and eventual career path of becoming a physician is the sole reason I am alive right now I wish it were the only entity of life I had to focus on.

These privileged students who scoff at me for trying to make a living during the end of term by buying books through a national company are upright snobs. Yes, this is exactly what I want to do during finals week, go around to friends and strangers and attempt to sway them to sell their books to me for cash.

I feel like a drug dealer most of the day carrying around way more cash than I’ve possessed in the last year, that amount it took years to be built up in savings and burnt through in months for health care costs. If I identify how I feel at this moment it is somewhere in between a cloud over reality and a shield made from black-box materials. I am entirely detached from reality, I can’t even grasp my present reality and I certainly am not handling well the pressures of three inconsistent buys jobs and an accelerated physics course on the weekend in addition to a full load during the week. About ten days more. Sure I can handle getting 5 hours of sleep. I’ve built the strongest tolerance I’ve ever experienced to medications right now. No dose knocks me out, even the strong ones at least not for more than 5 “quantity” hours of sleep, entirely lacking quality. My eye is twitching, I want to sleep. My brain is on fire. It keeps going, thinking. Turn off brain.

I don’t understand it, I don’t think we only get as much as we can handle because if I could handle all of this, I’d be getting straight A’s setting me up well for medical school. I’m not. You know why? Because there’s not enough time in the day to study work and sleep, and the compromise begins and ends with sleep. Sleep is my worst enemy. I never liked the night, always believed I’d be kidnapped or murdered at night. I was not consoled when I approached my parents with these concerns, rather shunned. Locked into my own room, locked out of everyone else’s. I was the only one in the house who didn’t get to have a lock on my door. Let’s talk about privilege and right and exclusivity. You don’t exist for me, because reality doesn’t exist for me. And that’s my brain.