Thursday, November 1, 2007

Let's revisit something painful!

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?”

2 comments:

Spilling Ink said...

"It’s responsible, but is it actually worth living for?"

This is exactly where I am right now.

May Voirrey said...

Quite the crossroads, quite the conundrum.