Posts Tagged ‘sad’

What did I do wrong

What happened to my life? I started to get better over here, at least emotionally. I was welcomed by a most amazing host family, and felt a part of their home within the first 24 hours. We had ups and downs, mostly ups and downs were external forces for the next four months. We shared secrets. Then I got sick. They visited me every few days in hospital. Then I got well. Then I got sick after the first day, and was re-admitted. Fortunately, I was discharged days later after fighting a severe infection.

I moved out of the house as planned, to start another term. They had already planned on having family friends move in, before I decided I’d stay the whole year. Ever since that point, I have made the effort to go see them on at least half a dozen separate occasions, on public transportation mind you, while they own a car. They said they’d visit me and never once made the effort to do so.

Graciously they lent me their extra bike for the term. My youngest host sister and I have begun to exchange daily texts. The one I received from her today was odd. She had just asked if I was going to be coming by to see them before I leave and I wrote that I have to see her so yeah.

She responded in a rather adult way saying I have to confirm because I have the bike. The bike. Not me. Why see me? Why make an effort to come out to see me? I have not once seen them even attempt to come to where I live. Never mind the fact that finals, packing, and reverse culture shock are looming. Never mind I’ve been in hospital six times in the last four months. It’s always about monetary value, not people. People don’t matter. I don’t matter.

This is a mere extension or reflection of what I’ve been feeling over the past few weeks. Being neglected at the hospital that seemed to be the only decent one left here (I’ve been to four in this country), literally the hospital doing nothing but observation after I found blood in my tube.

The friends I’ve made where I live suddenly became absent from my life a few weeks ago as well. One, he was going through some stuff and wouldn’t let anyone in. He wasn’t responding to any of my texts and had very little contact with anyone. The other, I’m guessing it was his girlfriend who has been occupying his time over the past weeks. I just found out about the girlfriend over the past weekend at a gathering for a friend’s party.

The person who organized the party is at the same level of friendship as the person who the party was for. I hope this makes enough sense to get across. My birthday also was a few weeks ago, the organizer (friend) said we’d do something for my birthday. That never happened.I went to this party not bitterly, attempting to celebrate the special occasion for the friend. It was hard to not feel slightly jealous.

The cycle of neglect and abandonment and utter devastation surface and replay. Broken promises, broken heart, no family.

My father who only has contact with me for financial reasons as he has no emotional availability for me in his life just sent two horrifyingly nasty e-mails to my home school. You see, my home school is attempting to charge me their tuition even though I’m abroad and received a significant discount on tuition. If I don’t pay, they won’t give me my grades, will de-register me from classes in the Fall, and yes even remove my ability to check out library books. The money they want me to give them was to be my housing money for the summer. Hello homelessness, goodbye life as I knew it, for those few amazing months.

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Be Real

Posted: 20 J0000002UTC 2011 in Health, mental
Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve dealt with death before.
Death of a close friend sucks. I’m sitting around people who have no idea. They don’t share the pain I’m in, not that I want them to.

At the same time, I feel sad, and sitting around smiling people feels, well, awkwardly inappropriate. I’m sad. I don’t think I want to remove myself from this cloud of sadness.

Last year I realized I’ve never actually grieved anything. It’s a process that was constantly stifled through my or other’s means. I am a product of an extremely invalidating childhood. I don’t want to continue that cycle.

Let me grieve, don’t come up to me with fake smiles and “how are you’s?” that don’t mean anything. Stop falsely caring and either care, or don’t. No more middle ground.

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“It’s Just Food”

That’s what “they’d” say/ Whoever the fuck “they” are. Eating with my host family has become awkward. I love everything about them aside from the food bit. Perhaps it’s my ED talking though I’m inclined to think otherwise considering my friends here have similar experiences without an ED. It’s possible that people here are just unbelievably strict regarding food and are somewhat hoarders in the food department. Anyway for me, the unsettling feelings around mealtime began about one month ago when I was restricted to a soft-food/liquid diet. I suppose because my host family was aware of this, I wasn’t “invited” to meal times. Though I imagine they had the best of intentions at heart, they likely didn’t want to tempt me with foods I’d be unable to consume.

When I decided fuck what the doctor says, I’ll eat whatever, things were still weird. Most nights I’d be around I wouldn’t be “invited” to dinner and meals were not cooked for me as had been in the previous weeks. I got sadly and uncomfortably use to this process and resorted to eating alone later, snacking on foods in the basement where my room is, or just not eating and missing meals.

Tonight, when I came home, I was asked if I’d be eating with them and I responded that I would. About 30 minutes later, I heard the usual plates clanking and laughter coming from upstairs. I believed that even though they acknowledged my presence for the meal, somehow they had forgotten. I began to snack on pretzels and cheese dip. About ten minutes later, my host dad opened the basement door and pops his head through, asking me if I was coming up to eat. Startled, and with half a pretzel stick in my mouth, I shook my head “yes”.

I was mortified, to the point that you’d think he caught me doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing, or something horribly inappropriate (insert fantasy here). Knowing or thinking that the adults upstairs (we have guests over) would be at least slightly inebriated (judging by sounds and speech heard), I decided that in order to be present at the table in the least uncomfortable way, I’d chug some sparkling cider alcohol prior to making my way upstairs, ease the nerves a bit you know?

Problem is, I don’t have a drinking problem, and rarely have I used alcohol to make myself feel better. The fact that I thought about drinking and followed through with the act makes me a bit uneasy, not now at least emotionally but in my logical mind. I felt embarrassed to be indulging in food that I “fixed it by indulging in alcohol. That does not clear things up. It’s just way messier. That is not normal, and it is not ok that I feel entirely embarrassed caught in the act of eating.

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.

 

When I feel autistic-like, exhibiting a lack of social skills, I become frustrated. Then I remember that there are a few obstacles I’m facing, namely being institutionalized for the better part of my young adulthood. Inappropriately, improperly institutionalized by parents who fail to recognize faults in themselves and find it easier (and it probably is) to put the exposed kid under constant supervision.

At the first place, I begged to leave upon my first phone call after 30 days of being there. Did I mention that this place actually did “allow” or rather force me to call my mother two weeks into being there, not to wish her a happy holidays or anything, rather to inform her that I had engaged in self-injury after 2 years of not doing such.

Did Anyone care to ask why I had performed the act? Nope.

My friend and I were talking and he was messing around on a fitness machine. He fell and cracked his head open and when I went to get help from staff, they began helping him medically all the wrong ways. I informed them what would be best to do in this situation and rather than listen, they shooed me away. If felt more than unimportant and an absolute waste of space and the sharp objects practically called my name.

Be it known that years later when I spoke with the admissions coordinator she told me she was really scared when she admitted me, knowing that there would be a break in treatment due to the holidays and I was extremely suicidal (just got out of what was supposed to be a 3-10 day hospitalization but turned into 17 days without any fresh or outdoors).
People are typically in the program for one year, maybe slightly more. Thanks to my formed dependence on the program, I remained there for 1 year and nine and a half months. That was the first one.

There were four subsequent placements and eight other hospitalization since that time. In total, I have been in mental health treatment (only counting residential and hospitalizations) nearly three years of the past seven years. Holy shishkabob, no wonder integration is a challenge

I don’t know if there’s any way to circumvent this situation; I’m reluctant to continue at the States with undergraduate education. I’ve recently looked at the class schedule for the Spring term and only two out of at least four classes I planned on taking I can actually take. This completely screws with my educational trajectory.

Additionally, unsure how this will come across; courses are a bit simple and I’m not using my brain fully. I am ready to delve into topics I’m actually interested in as opposed to fulfilling liberal ed requirements and take courses really of no particular relevance to my intentions.

In trying to figure out what schools to tour here and with all requirements and whatnot, I’d be fortunate if I was able to begin in the next three years abroad. I’m not sure that’s even practical/realistic. It’s frustrating and I’m annoyed at how long it’s taken me to complete just a “simple” undergraduate educational path. I’m not sure what to do. I know I don’t want to continually postpone my life and I feel very stuck and limited with options right now.

Also with the recent transpiration of events, I’ve noticed I don’t really have support over there short of two friends. Not only is there no support, the contact I receive from “family” is evil and threatening.

Yeah, sure I could always go into some treatment center, except I’m inclined to believe that I was subjected to unnecessary treatment because of other people’s shortcomings and insights. It seems like an enormous amount of my life has been wasted, and frankly it’s been a bit depressing coming to that realization. Sometimes, it seems like I don’t have a future because of these pitfalls.

I sit in my bed, typing this, hearing my roommate’s phone constantly ding. This is not an environment conducive for sleep, it’s constantly jarring me more and more awake, and into the realm of insomnia.

sleep marilyn monroe

I’m not ok with this. I want to not be my only consoler in life, I hate myself, I hate the person I am, the gender I’m not (I identify as neither gender. I am just a baby in an older person’s body, completely separated most of the time. I want someone to tell me it will be alright, because I don’t believe it is alright.

Why did I not receive the love and affection I craved and deserved as a child? I recognize myself as one of those dogs left out on the street without love from anyone else. Today was rough, the house mom from last night broke confidentiality rules this morning by telling other clients that she had a rough night with me and elaborated by conveying the whole story to people who do not need to be made aware of the situation. That is rude and distrusting and I do not respect her. Someone needs to have a stern talk with her and that someone should not be me. The house mom on tonight used to be cool, she’s not as awesome as I thought she’d be and she wants me to have respect for the house moms.

When I’m lied to, I will not pretend that I wasn’t and go about interacting in a non-nonchalant manner. Miss attitude needs a check of her own. That was yesterday though, and today, or this moment is a new piece in time, and with that I’m supposed to fall asleep crying like a baby, waiting for someone to come tell me it’s gonna be alright.