No Longer Shouting Into The Void

I no longer need this blog. Find me @lonelyassassin96

[shouting-nonsense]

Therapy

It’s going well, despite my initial hesitation. I like that my therapist lets me just ramble. I like that sometimes sessions are serious and heavy. I like that sometimes sessions are just me raving about things I like or fun plans I have. I like that my therapist has a bucket of fidget toys and a couch. I like that her office is cozy, dimmly lit, and full of plants. Most of all, I like that it’s been seriously helping me. I’m not “cured”, I never really will be if we’re being honest, but I’m getting better. I still have horrible thoughts about myself, but they’re no longer all-consuming like they were when I started this blog. I can often push them aside, or bring up logical counterpoints to quiet them down for a bit.

In short, I’m still alive. I’ll be ok. I’m getting better, and as a result, I no longer need this blog. If you want to check in to see how I’m doing, you can find me over on my personal blog @lonelyassassin96 . I’ll still keep this blog up as a personal marker for my progress.

[shouting-nonsense]

Healing is a slow process. The thoughts are still there but they’re getting quiter.

I just need to keep that in mind.

[shouting-nonsense]

Why don’t people want to celebrate my birthday with me anymore? Am I really that unimportant?

[shouting-nonsense]

I’m glad I can help him, even if I can’t make the demon go away.

[shouting-nonsense]

Why does it have to be an anxious manic and why while I’m at work of all places?

[shouting-nonsense]

Finally back on the antidepressants. Thank god. We’ll see how well they still work.

[shouting-nonsense]

I shouldn't be feeling like this. I have no reason to be this miserable. I have a husband who loves me (regardless of weather or not I deserve it), I have a roof over my head, I have plenty of food, I have a good job that pays me well (even if it's currently the biggest stress point of my life), I have parents who love me, I have friends who listen to me, I am well taken care of and loved. So why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like I don't deserve these things?

And why can't I make these feelings go away?

[shouting-nonsense]

I'm pathetic. Getting upset over not being able to talk to one person? So what if it's one of my best friends. I've had plenty of socialization today. It's not like it's his fault I'm no fun to talk to....

And now I've succesfully made myself sound like someone I hate. God. Pathetic.

[shouting-nonsense]

I don’t deserve fun. I don’t deserve friends. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve nice things.

[shouting-nonsense]

I’m tired of feeling like like my very existence is wrong. Like my being born is some great crime against humanity.

[shouting-nonsense]

Please be patient with me. I’m still learning how to be kind to myself.

[shouting-nonsense]

I don’t want to die. Dyeing implies pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and stop existing for a while.

[shouting-nonsense]

Somehow people are insistent that I deserve their company. I’m still half convinced I don’t deserve their kindness.

[shouting-nonsense]

Why in the fuck do mental breakdowns gotta be so exhausting? It’s just emotions, yet I feel like I ran a marathon….

[homoidiotic]

[shouting-nonsense]

It’s not their fault. Mom and Dad showered us with every ounce of love and affection they had. They disciplined us only when we did something wrong, and only as bad as the misdeed warranted because they loved us and wanted us to be better.

But the world chewed us up and spit us out before we were even old enough to truly be a part of it, leaving him and I broken and miserable, despite the best efforts of Mom and Dad.

[shouting-nonsense]

I’ve been doing a lot of introspection lately. One incident that popped up and brought to attention how incredibly lucky I am:

I was with my boyfriend in his kitchen (a year after we started dating) and I was burning inside with guilt, fear, and the immense need to tell him the truth. I was so scared he’d reject me. Or treat me different when I told him, but the need to come out to him was necessary. After all, how you can have a healthy relationship if your partner isn’t understanding of how you’re not interested in having sex? So I told him. And I braced myself for the worst. And I expected he would hate me. After all, normal people want sex, so why wouldn’t I? But he accepted me. And 7 years later, we’re engaged. And 7 years later, he still insists that he doesn’t want to do anything if it makes me uncomfortable.

I ask myself every day what I did to deserve his love, because truly I don’t, and yet he still gives it to me.