(no subject)
i'm beginning to realize how much there is to my life that i just don't get.
last night i was spoken to like a child by mike for about 45 minutes about how i was intentionally being manipulative to try and get pity out of him and get him to tell me that nothing is my fault, so instead, to go against my "manipulation" he stood there and started yelling at me about how i need to take responsibility for my actions, that i need to stop feeling sorry for myself all the time, that i need to do something about my character defects, that they won't just think themselves away, that he's not a mind reader, he can't just tell when there's something wrong with me and that he hates it when i'm all moody and morose
which i pointed out was this one night out of the last how many, and every other fucking night for the last goddamn 2 or 3 months i've kept my fucking mouth shut any time i felt depressed, lonely, helpless, worthless, and ashamed of all those feelings, i sucked it up and i kept my mouth shut because i didn't want his or anyone else's sympathy cuz i got myself into my own predicament, besides, every time i just need someone to vent to or just to hold me for 5 minutes he cant do that without turning it around and making me feel like i'm intentionally dragging myself down to make people feel bad for me.
WHAT THE FUCK? can't i just have a bad day and that be the end of that? why does he hafta push and pick at it until i finally completely break down and either lash out at him so he can turn around and say "see, since i'm not doing what you want me to do you're getting mad" or turn around and lash out at myself for even thinking i should say something to someone about what i'm feeling and thinking so he can say "well you need to get over yourself, you're not the only one that feels like that you know, you need to find serenity, you need to work on all these things, you need to just get over it.")
but last night was only one out of maybe 3 other nights since january that i've been like that. and apparently he considers me to be all moody an morose when i'm just being quiet and shutting up for once. what's so wrong with that, mike? you're the one who always tells me to just "shut-up and be quiet for awhile" so i've fucking learned to be quiet. i've annoyed enough people by talking too much. i get the fucking point.
but now youre yelling at me because i am quiet? FUCK YOU! don't turn around and tell me not to listen to you when you tell me to shut up. what am i gonna do, talk all the time knowing its pissing you off? whenever i tell you to shut-up you tell me its my disease speaking, that my addiction doesnt want to hear what you hafta say, or maybe its just that you seem to think you know all the answers to my life, granted there are some things you get that other people don't, but you aren't the one whose had to live inside this head with these memories and all the pain, i know you have your own but whats right for you isn't necessarily right for me.
why can't i just be quiet for the sake of being quiet because of a lack of anything to say? why do you always take it as me being a downer and hiding something? and if i am hiding something why would having these comversations about how manipulative i am for speaking out loud about it make me want to speak out about it to you and tell you what's going on when you give me this better-than-tho attitude every time i do.
its the exact same reaction i'm scared i'm gonna get if i call anyone from na. i've created my own problems, i need to take care of my own. no one likes to deal with a self-pitying whiny fucking bitch, and i'm not that person, but you make me feel that way. there's so much i don't say that i want to. but you've made me feel like any cry for help is sent out by me to manipulate those around me into feeling bad for me.
no, i want their opinion, their help, i don't understand how you can stand there and tell me i need to calm down when i'm trying to explain to you that yes, i have a problem but i have it under control and i'm not asking for your help, i was just telling you what happened to me on any given day. you're the one who's decided that you need to be my sponsor since i havent gone out and gotten one. i never asked you. in fact, i told you i didn't want you to do that.
i have a clinician at the clinic that i talk to every other week, and schedule more appointments to see him if i ned to, and hes alot further along than you are in terms of helping people. if i'm doing so horribly, then how come he hasn't told me the things you have about me manipulating him every time i go there and tell him everything i've told you? i told you you were my friend, and as my friend yes, i'm going to talk to you about problems, but only because i need a shoulder and a hug and someone to tell me that if i keep doing what i'm doing and working at it, things will be all right, but you turned around and told me that i better get used to not having that because i'm never gonna get it from him, that he can't always be there to just give me a hug and tell me its gonna be alright. that i needed to learn to stand on my own feet and not rely on other people, because there's a 90% chance that no one else will be able to do that for me either.
no matter what i do its wrong to him. and since hes the only friend whose already gone through everything i'm going through now i have no choice but to believe him.
and if hes right, then its going to be a very cold lonely world. and without anything to numb the pain of living, and knowing that i'm always going to be sick and tired for the rest of my life.
then maybe i won't go to the doctor so i can find out why i'm getting the excrutiating pain right by my heart every morning and why i'm so dizzy, my fingers are so tingly in my left and, and why i feel like i'm having a really bad panic attack and feel like my lungs are being squeezed shut when the 30 second spasm start.
maybe with luck it'll be something bad that will kill me at a younger age and prove my theory that i was never going to live beyond the age of 30. because honestly, what's the point of living if living only brings pain and suffering every time i finally feel a bit of serenity within myself.
maybe its just the withdrawal from the methadone. maybe i went down to fast. or maybe i'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired and its starting to sink in that that will never change. either way, i dont think i'm talking to mike anymore about anxieties or issues i'm having. i'm not gonna talk to anyone.
my mom was right. no number of hours of not complaining and finding things to laugh and feel happy about is gonna change the fact that i'm a whiny bitch and if one day i ran out of things to complain about i'd crawl into a hole and die. just like my great uncle.
good idea mom. at least then i couldn't subconsciously manipulate anyone any more like i'm probably doing now.
but news flash-i hate sympathy and i told mike that last night. i got myself into this mess.
i had my "fun" if that's what you can call it, and now i'm paying for it. venting is not always sympathy seeking, but i think for me its usually a cry for help, and mike missed that completely last night and went straight to me just looking for a target.
so if anybody's out there, i could use a hug and a nice dry shoulder, i'm really lonely lately.
last night i was spoken to like a child by mike for about 45 minutes about how i was intentionally being manipulative to try and get pity out of him and get him to tell me that nothing is my fault, so instead, to go against my "manipulation" he stood there and started yelling at me about how i need to take responsibility for my actions, that i need to stop feeling sorry for myself all the time, that i need to do something about my character defects, that they won't just think themselves away, that he's not a mind reader, he can't just tell when there's something wrong with me and that he hates it when i'm all moody and morose
which i pointed out was this one night out of the last how many, and every other fucking night for the last goddamn 2 or 3 months i've kept my fucking mouth shut any time i felt depressed, lonely, helpless, worthless, and ashamed of all those feelings, i sucked it up and i kept my mouth shut because i didn't want his or anyone else's sympathy cuz i got myself into my own predicament, besides, every time i just need someone to vent to or just to hold me for 5 minutes he cant do that without turning it around and making me feel like i'm intentionally dragging myself down to make people feel bad for me.
WHAT THE FUCK? can't i just have a bad day and that be the end of that? why does he hafta push and pick at it until i finally completely break down and either lash out at him so he can turn around and say "see, since i'm not doing what you want me to do you're getting mad" or turn around and lash out at myself for even thinking i should say something to someone about what i'm feeling and thinking so he can say "well you need to get over yourself, you're not the only one that feels like that you know, you need to find serenity, you need to work on all these things, you need to just get over it.")
but last night was only one out of maybe 3 other nights since january that i've been like that. and apparently he considers me to be all moody an morose when i'm just being quiet and shutting up for once. what's so wrong with that, mike? you're the one who always tells me to just "shut-up and be quiet for awhile" so i've fucking learned to be quiet. i've annoyed enough people by talking too much. i get the fucking point.
but now youre yelling at me because i am quiet? FUCK YOU! don't turn around and tell me not to listen to you when you tell me to shut up. what am i gonna do, talk all the time knowing its pissing you off? whenever i tell you to shut-up you tell me its my disease speaking, that my addiction doesnt want to hear what you hafta say, or maybe its just that you seem to think you know all the answers to my life, granted there are some things you get that other people don't, but you aren't the one whose had to live inside this head with these memories and all the pain, i know you have your own but whats right for you isn't necessarily right for me.
why can't i just be quiet for the sake of being quiet because of a lack of anything to say? why do you always take it as me being a downer and hiding something? and if i am hiding something why would having these comversations about how manipulative i am for speaking out loud about it make me want to speak out about it to you and tell you what's going on when you give me this better-than-tho attitude every time i do.
its the exact same reaction i'm scared i'm gonna get if i call anyone from na. i've created my own problems, i need to take care of my own. no one likes to deal with a self-pitying whiny fucking bitch, and i'm not that person, but you make me feel that way. there's so much i don't say that i want to. but you've made me feel like any cry for help is sent out by me to manipulate those around me into feeling bad for me.
no, i want their opinion, their help, i don't understand how you can stand there and tell me i need to calm down when i'm trying to explain to you that yes, i have a problem but i have it under control and i'm not asking for your help, i was just telling you what happened to me on any given day. you're the one who's decided that you need to be my sponsor since i havent gone out and gotten one. i never asked you. in fact, i told you i didn't want you to do that.
i have a clinician at the clinic that i talk to every other week, and schedule more appointments to see him if i ned to, and hes alot further along than you are in terms of helping people. if i'm doing so horribly, then how come he hasn't told me the things you have about me manipulating him every time i go there and tell him everything i've told you? i told you you were my friend, and as my friend yes, i'm going to talk to you about problems, but only because i need a shoulder and a hug and someone to tell me that if i keep doing what i'm doing and working at it, things will be all right, but you turned around and told me that i better get used to not having that because i'm never gonna get it from him, that he can't always be there to just give me a hug and tell me its gonna be alright. that i needed to learn to stand on my own feet and not rely on other people, because there's a 90% chance that no one else will be able to do that for me either.
no matter what i do its wrong to him. and since hes the only friend whose already gone through everything i'm going through now i have no choice but to believe him.
and if hes right, then its going to be a very cold lonely world. and without anything to numb the pain of living, and knowing that i'm always going to be sick and tired for the rest of my life.
then maybe i won't go to the doctor so i can find out why i'm getting the excrutiating pain right by my heart every morning and why i'm so dizzy, my fingers are so tingly in my left and, and why i feel like i'm having a really bad panic attack and feel like my lungs are being squeezed shut when the 30 second spasm start.
maybe with luck it'll be something bad that will kill me at a younger age and prove my theory that i was never going to live beyond the age of 30. because honestly, what's the point of living if living only brings pain and suffering every time i finally feel a bit of serenity within myself.
maybe its just the withdrawal from the methadone. maybe i went down to fast. or maybe i'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired and its starting to sink in that that will never change. either way, i dont think i'm talking to mike anymore about anxieties or issues i'm having. i'm not gonna talk to anyone.
my mom was right. no number of hours of not complaining and finding things to laugh and feel happy about is gonna change the fact that i'm a whiny bitch and if one day i ran out of things to complain about i'd crawl into a hole and die. just like my great uncle.
good idea mom. at least then i couldn't subconsciously manipulate anyone any more like i'm probably doing now.
but news flash-i hate sympathy and i told mike that last night. i got myself into this mess.
i had my "fun" if that's what you can call it, and now i'm paying for it. venting is not always sympathy seeking, but i think for me its usually a cry for help, and mike missed that completely last night and went straight to me just looking for a target.
so if anybody's out there, i could use a hug and a nice dry shoulder, i'm really lonely lately.