There is No Point
Josh asked my father to check on me and see if I'm okay because he thinks I might be depressed. This is proof that he's avoiding me. Why can't he ask himself? I've been there for both him and Robin as much as I could be for the past month or so, and he can't send me a text message to see if I'm okay? I'm a little angry about this...This is why I am so used to feeling alone, because if I lean on any family member, I'm a burden. I asked my father why Josh didn't just ask me himself, and he told me he figured Josh was just very busy and then said that Josh has been dealing with a lot lately.
Translation: He's already dealing with a lot. Already. dealing with a lot. Too much to ask me if I'm okay.
I have always, ALWAYS felt like a handful to my family. This has a very long history. Of note is how I was beat up by evil Alex and my parents told me not to tell grandpa, because it'd give him a heart attack. I was raped by Sasan and my mother told me I'd cried enough already, and it was too much to deal with. Jason raped me and my mother told me not to tell my father that it happened AGAIN, because it'd kill him. David raped me and I didn't tell anyone but livejournal and Quinn, and then a couple friends months and months later; I only told Josh I was raped twice more a couple years ago, four years after they'd all happened.
My anorexia was a burden to my mother, who told me that she could talk about her body and food any way she wanted. Feeling suicidal was a burden to both my parents because it made them wonder what they'd done wrong, and they told me other people had bigger problems.
My being with John was a huge burden to everyone, but at least I could get some comfort out of him SOMEtimes. All I wanted was someone to protect me. I just wanted someone to tell me I could cry as long and hard as I wanted and that he'd never let anyone hurt me again and that he'd remember what I'd gone through and take care of me even when the moment of my telling him was over.
I've been left with these feelings of invalidation. I feel I could never be validated enough, and that feeling scares me. Therapy didn't work, and I feel I'm constantly "too much" for everyone I talk to. When I try to talk to people, this is played out over and over again. I am always hearing people call one another "dramatic," and I'm afraid I'll be (or I am) thought of that way because John said Quinn had called me dramatic when our friendship was over-after I told her all my secrets and everything that I'd felt and had happen, that was one of the biggest invalidations.
I want to be happy, though. And I don't want to complain forever. I'm just so afraid to bother anyone and then have them abandon me, or emotionally abandon me. Same thing, in a way. The latter is a mind-fuck. I'm afraid people will give up on me, if they haven't already. I know my brother does sometimes.
I guess I'll get through this, like I get through everything. I just wonder what's going to happen. Will my entire life be like this? Is this worth it? To be in a world full of animal-abusers, rapists, murderers, torturers, and people are who so profane and nasty and disrespectful and insulting and who just do not understand...hearing about and surrounded by all of these people all the time. To have a life that's this mentally wearing? What's really the problem with opting out? I'm supposed to stick around for everyone else? Why? Life is hard, and when you know it's not going to get better, that you won't find the appreciation and the passion and the love and the kinship you so pine for, what is the point? What's the fucking point?
I ask Robin how she is every day, and I have since her mother died. She posted an article yesterday that sounds like hippy ridiculousness, saying how it's really kind of ridiculous to ask anyone "How are you?" because how can they possibly tell you? You're supposed to ask them questions like, "How are you feeling appreciated today?" "What was the worst point of your day?" "What was something you found uplifting today?" Her commentary was that as someone who is grieving, this especially applies and she has no idea how to answer "How are you?" and found it to show a good deal of empathy when other people told her they wouldn't ask her how she's feeling. It's sad to find out that I've been trying to be supportive by asking her questions every day that are inappropriate to her. I told her that I like the question, "How are you?" because it opens up the conversation, but if it would be better for her if I asked her more specific questions, I'd be more than happy to.
Translation: He's already dealing with a lot. Already. dealing with a lot. Too much to ask me if I'm okay.
I have always, ALWAYS felt like a handful to my family. This has a very long history. Of note is how I was beat up by evil Alex and my parents told me not to tell grandpa, because it'd give him a heart attack. I was raped by Sasan and my mother told me I'd cried enough already, and it was too much to deal with. Jason raped me and my mother told me not to tell my father that it happened AGAIN, because it'd kill him. David raped me and I didn't tell anyone but livejournal and Quinn, and then a couple friends months and months later; I only told Josh I was raped twice more a couple years ago, four years after they'd all happened.
My anorexia was a burden to my mother, who told me that she could talk about her body and food any way she wanted. Feeling suicidal was a burden to both my parents because it made them wonder what they'd done wrong, and they told me other people had bigger problems.
My being with John was a huge burden to everyone, but at least I could get some comfort out of him SOMEtimes. All I wanted was someone to protect me. I just wanted someone to tell me I could cry as long and hard as I wanted and that he'd never let anyone hurt me again and that he'd remember what I'd gone through and take care of me even when the moment of my telling him was over.
I've been left with these feelings of invalidation. I feel I could never be validated enough, and that feeling scares me. Therapy didn't work, and I feel I'm constantly "too much" for everyone I talk to. When I try to talk to people, this is played out over and over again. I am always hearing people call one another "dramatic," and I'm afraid I'll be (or I am) thought of that way because John said Quinn had called me dramatic when our friendship was over-after I told her all my secrets and everything that I'd felt and had happen, that was one of the biggest invalidations.
I want to be happy, though. And I don't want to complain forever. I'm just so afraid to bother anyone and then have them abandon me, or emotionally abandon me. Same thing, in a way. The latter is a mind-fuck. I'm afraid people will give up on me, if they haven't already. I know my brother does sometimes.
I guess I'll get through this, like I get through everything. I just wonder what's going to happen. Will my entire life be like this? Is this worth it? To be in a world full of animal-abusers, rapists, murderers, torturers, and people are who so profane and nasty and disrespectful and insulting and who just do not understand...hearing about and surrounded by all of these people all the time. To have a life that's this mentally wearing? What's really the problem with opting out? I'm supposed to stick around for everyone else? Why? Life is hard, and when you know it's not going to get better, that you won't find the appreciation and the passion and the love and the kinship you so pine for, what is the point? What's the fucking point?
I ask Robin how she is every day, and I have since her mother died. She posted an article yesterday that sounds like hippy ridiculousness, saying how it's really kind of ridiculous to ask anyone "How are you?" because how can they possibly tell you? You're supposed to ask them questions like, "How are you feeling appreciated today?" "What was the worst point of your day?" "What was something you found uplifting today?" Her commentary was that as someone who is grieving, this especially applies and she has no idea how to answer "How are you?" and found it to show a good deal of empathy when other people told her they wouldn't ask her how she's feeling. It's sad to find out that I've been trying to be supportive by asking her questions every day that are inappropriate to her. I told her that I like the question, "How are you?" because it opens up the conversation, but if it would be better for her if I asked her more specific questions, I'd be more than happy to.