I've still been straightening up my computer files and in the process, revisiting the recent past. Everything I've written since 2003 becomes a litmus test to gauge my current state. I wrote this list in February of this year. I can honestly say that although I feel and cope better in many ways, the ideas outlined here really are core beliefs. In my heart, I still believe 90% of this; I just deal with it better, hide it more convincingly, and don't focus much on the debate about living or dying anymore.
Core beliefs * February 13, 2007
· The people who know me just cannot, will not, are incapable of understanding my problem or making the critical distinction between a willful, controllable emotional issue and a physical, organic illness that happens to manifest through behavior, speech, and perception.
· I will always be judged—and harshly—for things I cannot control.
· I will always be held accountable for things I said but didn’t actually think or believe.
· My health problem/disorder will always be met with skepticism and disdain.
· I try and try to educate, but nobody gets it. Except Joanna, but she’s a doctor and she’s deeply compassionate and tolerant. She knows to put the behavior into its correct context instead of being insulted by it.
· I feel so bad, I am toxic to myself.
· I believe—know—it’s not my fault. I try to fix myself, I do everything I’m supposed to, but I am just really beyond sad.
· No matter what I do, I just make people mad and probably always will since my condition is permanent. I am held responsible for feelings and behavior that control me. I believe it is easier for others to be mad at me rather than acknowledge that none of us can control or fix my problem. Fuck ‘em.
· I am held to an impossible standard of behavior and wellness.
· Sonja does not judge PeggyJo the way she does me. I do not believe she scolds or berates PeggyJo when her behavior and words are irresponsible, erratic or unkind. Same dx, different tolerance.
· Everyone expects me to overcome what very few people ever do; this standard is unfair.
· People only like a winner. Performing as expected is good. Having a serious, complex problem is just plain unacceptable. OK, I get it.
· There is no value in a life lived with so much pain, especially when compassion and understanding are so egregiously absent.
· Nobody cares about me, only that I get back to meeting their expectations.
· I am unlovable.
· I cannot live this way. I will not survive it. I know this unequivocally.
· This world and the people in it just absolutely suck, especially the people I always thought would comfort me if I needed it. Fuck ‘em all.
· I believe I will always feel abandoned and alone; the wound is raw and unhealable.
· If I can just act normal and meet expectations, I will not be judged. It’s so hard. Too hard.
· I do not want to live this way.
· I no longer want to live.
· Suicide is a civil right. It is a human right. It is inalienable. Period.
· Only death can free me from the pain, embarrassment, and disappointment I endure every goddam day. There is not enough therapy in the world.
· I am not capable of happiness. Not anymore.
· I am worthless.
· I can’t do anything right. I just can’t do anything right. Somebody is always mad at me for something--usually for being myself and not the self they're comfortable with. I wish they wouldn't get so mad.
· Everything is hard.
· I’m useless if I’m sick. Useless. I see it in the faces and attitudes of everyone around me.
· My brain is defective. I am defective.
· My future is hopeless. All I can do is pay my debts and manage the BP for the duration. It’s responsible, but is it actually worth living for?
· Nobody cares about me; they only care about what I can do for them. In the absence of achievement and service, I become irrelevant to those who would otherwise praise me. If I can’t “do,” then I do not matter. Worthless.
· No one’s life will change if I’m not here—not beyond the most superficial consequences. Whose life will be altered if I’m not here? Nobody’s.
· I can’t feel any connection to people anymore, and frankly, I don’t want to. People are unreliable and disappointing.
· My life has no value, not even to me. Especially not to me.
· I am physically repulsive. Homely, fat, and clumsy.
· I’m a big, fat blob of “Why Bother?”
"It’s responsible, but is it actually worth living for?"
This is exactly where I am right now.
Quite the crossroads, quite the conundrum.
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