Losing friends and alienating people.
Anyone that knows me would find it hard to believe that I keep so much to myself. I'm generally honest, forward and blunt- to the point of being offensive and hurting feelings. But I've reached a breaking point, and I'm ... done.
Warning: Between sensitive topics, blunt thoughtless complaining and triggering subject matter - you might not want to read this post.
I'm tired. I'm tired of everything, I'm tired of shit in my life going wrong, I'm tired of not saying something because other people have it worse or I'm afraid I'm not going to be taken seriously, or I'm afraid I'm going to offend someone.
Overall I'm just tired of pretending like everything is okay. It's not. It hasn't been for a long while and everything is piling up on me now and I just want to stop existing. I'm sick of tip-toeing around triggering issues for fear of upsetting other people when they openly talk about them. I'm sick of avoiding topics and not mentioning things because I don't want to set anyone off. I'm sick of reading things that offend me and biting my tongue because- it's not my place, or my business or... whatever.
I just. Have such a reputation for being someone that speaks up, and for being offensive if I have to be to say what I want to say but- I hold so much back, I wonder if I'd ever really have any friends if they knew everything I was thinking.
I hold people's hands and try to help them while they're having suicidal moments or thoughts when I don't have the will to live. I refuse to admit that I don't have the will to live because suicidal thoughts are a weakness and I don't want people to think less of or judge me for them. I don't talk about triggering things or when I've been triggered because I don't want to trigger anyone else that might.... be triggered by the shit I have to say.
I can't handle people talking about their weight, or gender identity. Mention of eating disorders freaks me out for a number of reasons, one of which is guilt that I can identify but have never actually had one because I don't have the self control. I get mad when I see people complain about things like 'I wish I was anorexic'. Bitching that anorexia is a serious disorder and a serious problem and what the fuck is wrong with you, wanting to be like that is not glamorous. Doesn't it occur to these people that not everyone who wishes they were anorexic is looking at it as a fad? Some of them are truly fucked up individuals too that also need help.
I hate when people talk about gender identity like there's some blanket norm. Just because something is comfortable or uncomfortable for you doesn't mean it applies to everyone. A trans individual that accepts being called their assigned at birth sex in conversation is not necessarily faking it. Someone that does not identify in the gender binary is not faking it. Not all male-to-female trans individuals are comfortable calling their penis their 'big clit' or whatever the fuck.
And I don't care if you're my friend, I automatically resent anyone that doesn't accept a trans individual for their identifying gender because they don't physically pass. That's a big fuck you, okay?
Since I was a teenager I just took more and more of this shit onto myself, and accepted it and dealt with it. I was never suicidal because there was always hope for the future. If you kill yourself now you will never know what could have been. You will never know who you have a chance to become. I'm tired of waiting for some distant future to be happy. I'm tired of working towards happiness, I'm tired of finding excuses not to be suicidal. I have found myself reasons to live ever since my grandfather died, however small. I don't have the energy to keep doing it. I'm terrified that if I pinpoint something else as my reason to live my mother will get rid of that too. Do you know what it's like to have to look in the face of the person who got rid of your reason to live every day? My motivation to function in the real world as a human being came from seeing him every day, and working towards a bond, and taking such pride in everything he proved to be. When I was sixteen I got myself a dog, and that prevented me from becoming truly suicidal. Now I try to look at that dog and get that same feeling back but all I can think is 'she wouldn't let anything happen to you, she loves you more than me now.'
The only thing keeping me from stretching out on some train tracks lately is the fear of immense pain.
I'm tired of feeling hollow inside every time she says she loves me. Not knowing if I should say it back or not, because really. I don't want to, because I don't believe her... But I don't want to hurt her by not saying it back?
I'm tired of people saying things that are supposed to be supportive or motivational and they just feel dismissive. I'm tired of people not seeming to consider that maybe I just need a little sympathy, and this isn't helping.
I spent a lot of time in a fucked up relationship that made me feel like shit, for no reason. The first year was fairly amazing despite my discomfort with a number of things but the last four- it was like, why am I even involved in this? It kind of shaped the person I am today, the one that can be hurt by something and ignore it. The one that quietly resents every little fucking inequality in our relationship, no matter what kind of relationship we have.
I am incapable of trusting anyone. The story behind that will make me sound even more fucked up than I already do, so I'm not going to share it in public.
And I'm scared to post this, just like I've been scared to say a million other things in the past. I'm scared to say I can't breathe or I'm having an anxiety attack. I'm afraid people won't take me seriously because I keep these things to myself, and I always get that response. You know the, 'if that's true why didn't you say so before?' response. Like I'm only saying it now to try to get credit for something no one knew about before. Because they don't believe that it's always been there. When I was a kid I had crippling migraines, but I could get out of bed so I was convinced I'd never had a migraine. I was never as bad off as my mother or my brother when they stayed in bed. I got up, I went to school. I soldiered on, like a good trained pet. When I found out what a migraine was I hated that I spent my entire life saying I'd never had one when I had one every day. When I see people talk about their problems, their disorders, their attacks, their suicidal thoughts or bouts of rage- whatever they talk about. I feel inferior, like mine don't fucking matter because they're not. that. bad.. I feel like people will think I'm just saying I have them to get attention.
My mother raised me to believe that I could do anything anyone else could. She refused to acknowledge my disability in terms of something that could hold me back from having a normal life. As admirable as it is in the sense that she didn't want to hold me back, instead I'm left floundering trying to have a normal life because I'm 26-years-old and don't actually know my own limits. Which is another thing. I hate complaining about working too much because I don't even work full time hours and I can't physically do it. And I feel like that just makes people think I'm lazy and faking it to get off easy.
I've stopped saying I have OCD because people relate it to stupid people claiming they have OCD because they like things neat and tidy. OCD is a crippling problem, and anyone that sees the way I live knows that it has nothing to do with being tidy. I like my shit clean, yes. And there are things I will not touch if they're disgusting because I can not rationalize that I can just- wash my hands and be done with it. No, OCD also comes with messes so overwhelming you can't think about them and you literally stop functioning. OCD does not stand for Obsessive Cleaning Disorder, and I should not have to be ashamed or afraid to talk about my serious problem because so often people self diagnose with problems I do have- to exaggerate a stupid point.
And just because I talk about something, doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it. That's a misconception I am seriously growing tired of.
Having gone off on that tear to the point of exhaustion, I am about to go sleep. I know there's more but at this point I'm too tired to try to work out the energy for it so.... bed it is.
Warning: Between sensitive topics, blunt thoughtless complaining and triggering subject matter - you might not want to read this post.
I'm tired. I'm tired of everything, I'm tired of shit in my life going wrong, I'm tired of not saying something because other people have it worse or I'm afraid I'm not going to be taken seriously, or I'm afraid I'm going to offend someone.
Overall I'm just tired of pretending like everything is okay. It's not. It hasn't been for a long while and everything is piling up on me now and I just want to stop existing. I'm sick of tip-toeing around triggering issues for fear of upsetting other people when they openly talk about them. I'm sick of avoiding topics and not mentioning things because I don't want to set anyone off. I'm sick of reading things that offend me and biting my tongue because- it's not my place, or my business or... whatever.
I just. Have such a reputation for being someone that speaks up, and for being offensive if I have to be to say what I want to say but- I hold so much back, I wonder if I'd ever really have any friends if they knew everything I was thinking.
I hold people's hands and try to help them while they're having suicidal moments or thoughts when I don't have the will to live. I refuse to admit that I don't have the will to live because suicidal thoughts are a weakness and I don't want people to think less of or judge me for them. I don't talk about triggering things or when I've been triggered because I don't want to trigger anyone else that might.... be triggered by the shit I have to say.
I can't handle people talking about their weight, or gender identity. Mention of eating disorders freaks me out for a number of reasons, one of which is guilt that I can identify but have never actually had one because I don't have the self control. I get mad when I see people complain about things like 'I wish I was anorexic'. Bitching that anorexia is a serious disorder and a serious problem and what the fuck is wrong with you, wanting to be like that is not glamorous. Doesn't it occur to these people that not everyone who wishes they were anorexic is looking at it as a fad? Some of them are truly fucked up individuals too that also need help.
I hate when people talk about gender identity like there's some blanket norm. Just because something is comfortable or uncomfortable for you doesn't mean it applies to everyone. A trans individual that accepts being called their assigned at birth sex in conversation is not necessarily faking it. Someone that does not identify in the gender binary is not faking it. Not all male-to-female trans individuals are comfortable calling their penis their 'big clit' or whatever the fuck.
And I don't care if you're my friend, I automatically resent anyone that doesn't accept a trans individual for their identifying gender because they don't physically pass. That's a big fuck you, okay?
Since I was a teenager I just took more and more of this shit onto myself, and accepted it and dealt with it. I was never suicidal because there was always hope for the future. If you kill yourself now you will never know what could have been. You will never know who you have a chance to become. I'm tired of waiting for some distant future to be happy. I'm tired of working towards happiness, I'm tired of finding excuses not to be suicidal. I have found myself reasons to live ever since my grandfather died, however small. I don't have the energy to keep doing it. I'm terrified that if I pinpoint something else as my reason to live my mother will get rid of that too. Do you know what it's like to have to look in the face of the person who got rid of your reason to live every day? My motivation to function in the real world as a human being came from seeing him every day, and working towards a bond, and taking such pride in everything he proved to be. When I was sixteen I got myself a dog, and that prevented me from becoming truly suicidal. Now I try to look at that dog and get that same feeling back but all I can think is 'she wouldn't let anything happen to you, she loves you more than me now.'
The only thing keeping me from stretching out on some train tracks lately is the fear of immense pain.
I'm tired of feeling hollow inside every time she says she loves me. Not knowing if I should say it back or not, because really. I don't want to, because I don't believe her... But I don't want to hurt her by not saying it back?
I'm tired of people saying things that are supposed to be supportive or motivational and they just feel dismissive. I'm tired of people not seeming to consider that maybe I just need a little sympathy, and this isn't helping.
I spent a lot of time in a fucked up relationship that made me feel like shit, for no reason. The first year was fairly amazing despite my discomfort with a number of things but the last four- it was like, why am I even involved in this? It kind of shaped the person I am today, the one that can be hurt by something and ignore it. The one that quietly resents every little fucking inequality in our relationship, no matter what kind of relationship we have.
I am incapable of trusting anyone. The story behind that will make me sound even more fucked up than I already do, so I'm not going to share it in public.
And I'm scared to post this, just like I've been scared to say a million other things in the past. I'm scared to say I can't breathe or I'm having an anxiety attack. I'm afraid people won't take me seriously because I keep these things to myself, and I always get that response. You know the, 'if that's true why didn't you say so before?' response. Like I'm only saying it now to try to get credit for something no one knew about before. Because they don't believe that it's always been there. When I was a kid I had crippling migraines, but I could get out of bed so I was convinced I'd never had a migraine. I was never as bad off as my mother or my brother when they stayed in bed. I got up, I went to school. I soldiered on, like a good trained pet. When I found out what a migraine was I hated that I spent my entire life saying I'd never had one when I had one every day. When I see people talk about their problems, their disorders, their attacks, their suicidal thoughts or bouts of rage- whatever they talk about. I feel inferior, like mine don't fucking matter because they're not. that. bad.. I feel like people will think I'm just saying I have them to get attention.
My mother raised me to believe that I could do anything anyone else could. She refused to acknowledge my disability in terms of something that could hold me back from having a normal life. As admirable as it is in the sense that she didn't want to hold me back, instead I'm left floundering trying to have a normal life because I'm 26-years-old and don't actually know my own limits. Which is another thing. I hate complaining about working too much because I don't even work full time hours and I can't physically do it. And I feel like that just makes people think I'm lazy and faking it to get off easy.
I've stopped saying I have OCD because people relate it to stupid people claiming they have OCD because they like things neat and tidy. OCD is a crippling problem, and anyone that sees the way I live knows that it has nothing to do with being tidy. I like my shit clean, yes. And there are things I will not touch if they're disgusting because I can not rationalize that I can just- wash my hands and be done with it. No, OCD also comes with messes so overwhelming you can't think about them and you literally stop functioning. OCD does not stand for Obsessive Cleaning Disorder, and I should not have to be ashamed or afraid to talk about my serious problem because so often people self diagnose with problems I do have- to exaggerate a stupid point.
And just because I talk about something, doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it. That's a misconception I am seriously growing tired of.
Having gone off on that tear to the point of exhaustion, I am about to go sleep. I know there's more but at this point I'm too tired to try to work out the energy for it so.... bed it is.