[susiegreenbean]

You always hear people say they are willing to help. To listen. But no one really is. Not really. I'm up and freaking out and considering ending it all. Have been for a while. And there's no one to call. No one.

[susiegreenbean]

"Be yourself" You always hear that. People actually believe it too. That they want others to be themselves. But they don't realize they don't mean people like me. They don't want me to be myself. I'm crippled with mental illness. I have processing challenges. What they want is for me to behave normally. To have a sense of humor. To pretend to understand them. No one wants to explain the same thing several times. No one wants a severely depressed dinner guest. "Be yourself" to people like me doesn't translate fully. I can never be myself.

[susiegreenbean]

Feeling this ideation is scary and sobering. It keeps people from helping me. Even therapists. When you need help the most is when no one will touch you. Like you're contagious or something. Or maybe they just know that you're beyond help and they don't want to feel defeated. They tell themselves that you are better off getting help from someone else. But there is no one else. You've reached the end of the road.

[susiegreenbean]

Getting dumped by a therapist again tomorrow. Nothing says "give up" quite as loud as that.

[susiegreenbean]

Me: I can't get out of bed anymore.

Her: This is concerning.

Me: The usual motivators aren't helping.

Her: Lets adjust your medication.

Me: You always go to that. Medication. I would rather just adjust me. Fix me.

[psychohayley]

Beyond truthful

[coral]

You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (via feellng)

[susiegreenbean]

Depression Problems

I'm too depressed to clean the house. But if I don't clean the mess will depress me even more. There is no win here. Well that's depressing isn't it?

[susiegreenbean]

It happened again. Am I the only one that keeps getting terminated by therapists?

[susiegreenbean]

You can’t trust people. You can’t say normal things. You should just stay home. Why make a fool out of yourself? So what if you’re lonely? You don’t need anyone. You’re better off this way.

Agoraphobia

[thewavesofthesea]

[susiegreenbean]

Avoiding Self Harm

Her: Try to crochet.

Me: I did. I used the hook to scratch my skin until it bled.

Her: Try to take a shower.

Me: I did. I pulled out my hair and cut myself with the razor

Her: Try cooking.

Me: I burned myself.

Her: Writing?

Me: Used a paper clip to cut my skin.

Her: Exercise?

Me: I did 100 crunches and vomited because I felt fat.

Her: texting a friend.

Me: I have no friends.

Her: Deep breathing.

Me: It helps. And I still harm myself calmly.

Her: Hospital.

Me: No! I'll stop.

[susiegreenbean]

Life is my Job

It’s possible to not love your job but also not hate it. It’s just a job. You do it well or sometimes you don’t feel like it. It’s a job. That’s how I feel about life.

I cook often. I have two freezers full of meals and doughs and I can honestly say at times I have felt accomplished. But I cannot say have I enjoyed it.

I do it because it’s my job. My whole life is a job.

I’m supposed to get out and have my kids interact so I go to playgroups. Because I’m supposed to.

I’m supposed to eat right, exercise, sleep at night. So I do because I’m supposed to.

"But you like yoga, right?" It’s good for my body, it gets me out of the house, it promotes mindfulness, and I do it every week. Because I should do these things.

Go to moms nights out (making friends!) Take the kids to the pool Gardening is good for the soul, right? Take a shower Work out at the gym Scrapbook Facebook Read a book Journaling is a healthy catharsis, isn’t it?

I do these things. All of them and more. And I do them because I’m supposed to.

I won’t self harm if my hands are busy. I won’t go to a bad place if my mind is in a book. I won’t want to die if my kids are happy. If life is enough. This is my job. Some days I do it well. But I have yet to enjoy it.

[its-me-squaznik]

Mental illness is like fighting a war where the enemy’s strategy is to convince you that the war isn’t actually happening.

Kat  (via aranrhod)

[trickedintothis-blog]

I wish I could explain how I feel better than “I’m losing my mind” I’ve never been that good with words but I’m falling apart and I can’t even tell anyone

[susiegreenbean]

Struggling to find words is no fun. It makes therapy so much harder. Not to mention, you know, life.

[susiegreenbean]

Sexual coercion

When did sex become so… Uncomfortable? Unemotional?

He used to hold me close. He used to enjoy my neck and my shoulders. He used to lie his head on my tummy. He used to smell me and say I love you.

Now he calls me names. He “fucks me like a slut” he comes on top of me after pulling out and using his own hand to relieve himself. If I’m lucky he’s just aiming at my chest. He makes me lie through him penetrating my anus. He pushes my face down to his penis. I’ve told him I don’t like these things. But I give into all of it. I’m afraid if I don’t then he’ll leave. That he’ll have sex with someone else. That he’ll find me boring, undesirable, unworthy. I miss the love making so much. But you can’t go back. I don’t think I’ll ever have sex with him again without imagining him saying, “you’re a dirty fucking slut and deserve to be treated like one.” I suppose in the right moment and in the right context these might be arousing words or even fun. But the way he says them is neither of these things. It’s gross and makes me feel used and desperate. I don’t want to have sex with my husband and feel used and desperate. I want to feel love and satisfaction. I want to feel… Safe.

[psych2go]

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Fact submitted by: can-thandlethisweird