Long time no see, aye?

I really haven’t felt like writing lately, at all, like I’ve sort of refused to deal with things, I don’t know to be honest.

I’m also scared that if I dig too much into my mind by writing, I make everything so much worse, but do I?

I mean, will I make it worse with trying to work it all out, trying to make it make sense to me? Probably not, but you can’t blame me for being careful.

My last session with my therapist ended badly, I wanted to tell her about something that had happened to me, which worried me a little, but it was like I convinced myself that it wasn’t even important enough to be brought up. And I told her that, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what was really bothering me. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but here it is;

The thing I didn’t manage to talk about was that incident with my mum, she forced me to go to school, and I went up in the bathroom to brush my teeth, because I didn’t have a choice but to go. And my mum had and has a problem with her back, so driving hurts her back a lot. She stood outside the bathroom waiting with her car keys, telling me to hurry up so she could drive me, and I said no, I’m taking the bus.

I felt bad for her, I didn’t want her to be in pain just because of me, and at the same time I felt horrible for saying no to her, she was only trying to help, and there’s me acting like some stuck up piece of shit saying no.

And there in the middle of everything, me silently crying in the bathroom while mum gave up and went downstairs, I looked at myself in the mirror and out of no where, this thought, it was like it wasn’t mine, I didn’t think it, like someone threw it at me, I was so shocked.  Didn’t know what to believe, because I knew and I know that that thought wasn’t coming from me, at least not that I’m aware of anyway.

Like there was another part of me, having a go at me, telling me how worthless I was. Even though it was only one single thought, but I just can’t let it go.

Another thing that has been bothering me these last days is that I’m so angry, at myself for some reason, it’s on the limit to self destructive, I feel very strong urges to just find something and stab myself with, even cut my arm off, but I won’t do it though.

But it’s so confusing. Where did all this anger come from?

Things have been going better lately, emotionally, I haven’t been feeling as down or sad as before, and that’s a good thing isn’t it?

But still I seek things that make me feel sad, makes me want to hurt myself, even though I don’t want to, not really, but I keep convincing myself otherwise.

I want to take myself seriously, I do, but how can I when the reasonable part of me is telling me I’m being overdramatic about it? That it’s not serious enough to even be considered.

Like when I’m at my sessions with my therapist, I get a sort of scale to tell her my mood set, like if 1 is really bad, 5 is normal and 10 is like the best, and I tell myself I’m not feeling bad enough to set a mark below 5, so I might put a mark on 7 or 8 just because I’ve convinced myself that it’s not serious enough even though I really know that it is.

I might feel like 2 or 3, but put my mark as 7 or 8, and I know how wrong it is, and it’s not helping me or anyone, but I don’t feel like I’m sort of worthy to put my mark where I really feel it should be, or I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m making any sense right now.

I just hope I’ll be able to bring this up at the session on Wednesday, but time will show.

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”

Bekka – InsideOut



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