The Life You Save May Be Your Own

DID, knitting, sci-fi, and strong opinions

Truth October 31, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 2:53 am

Can’t do this. Just can’t.

My great aunt died this morning.

I’m the one who should be dead. It would make things so much better for everyone, including myself. We all know I’m never going to get my shit together and make my life work. I might as well get out now before things get any worse. They already hate me for being a worthless drain on their money, but maybe if I got out now they’d hate me less. Maybe they’d even forget that they’d hated me so much.

They’re right, you know, to hate me. People keep saying I should love myself, be kind to myself, but there’s no reason. If people think I deserve that it’s because I’ve lied to them, made them think I’m a good person. The truth is I’m not.

I know the truth about me. My family has always been right about me, and I could never really fool myself into believing they were wrong.

I don’t belong here, I don’t want to be here, and the only people who truly know what I am don’t want me here.

I’m so tired of fighting it.

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Post-Sandy, Mid-Personal Storm October 30, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 1:37 pm
Tags: , ,

Sandy didn’t do much here in Western Mass. Some rain, some wind, but not enough to do any damage.

But my head is a storm over my great aunt. So many voices, so much noise. Need quiet but can’t get it.

I’m the bad daughter. I should be there. Somebody needs to take care of my grandmother. It should be me–I’m the oldest grandchild. But of course I’m doing nothing because I’m an asshole. What kind of granddaughter doesn’t even call? What kind of granddaughter gets mad because nobody asked how she was doing in the storm? My great aunt is DYING, for god’s sake. They’re not supposed to be worrying about me. I should be on a plane back home right now, but I’m not. I’m too selfish. I’m the bad daughter. Bad bad bad.

 

Prodigal

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 3:04 am

I just got an email from my mother.

My Great Aunt Jane, my grandmother’s older sister, is in the hospital and isn’t expected to last the week. Apparently my grandmother isn’t taking it well.

I should call. I should do something to at least try to comfort her. We have huge differences, my grandparents and I, but her sister is dying, for god’s sake.

But I don’t want to call. I don’t want to talk to them. They think I’m a worthless failure. I can’t have a single conversation with them where it doesn’t come up, and I just can’t deal with that.

I’m going to feel terrible whether I talk to my grandparents or not. The question is which option will make me feel less terrible.

And I have no idea. But probably I’ll just be avoidant and not call.

And while I’m being a terrible person, I also want to send my mother an email in reply that says, “Thanks for asking how I’m doing, since I’m getting HIT BY A FUCKING HURRICANE and stuff.”

 

Sandy October 29, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 12:37 pm
Tags: , , ,

So we’re about to get hurricaned.

I’ve got candles, a lighter, a Red Cross emergency radio/flashlight/phone charger powered by hand crank and solar panel, several days of food for me and Winston, a jug of water, and a good book. I guess that’s about as ready as I get.

My worry is flooding. I live in a first floor apartment, and there’s a creek right behind me. It’s already high because we’ve had a lot of rain already, and the swamp it runs into is also high. I can go to an emergency shelter, but what would I do with Winston? If nothing else, I can call my nurse, who already has a beagle. She’d probably be able to keep Winston, and she lives on a hill where she won’t get flooded.

It’s 8:30 and cloudy, but not too bad yet. Not even raining yet, but there’s a fair bit of wind.

I’m annoyed, though, because today was supposed to be therapy. They canceled service for the bus I have to take, but I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway. I have to walk a mile and a half from my apartment to the bus stop. Not too bad now, but during the return trip when it’s pouring and gusting, that would not be good. Don’t know how bad it’ll be, so I’ve got no idea when I could reschedule for.

Maybe it’s a message from the universe that I should just quit therapy.

 

All the time

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 4:09 am
Tags: ,

“But having this is like having a cancer. You have this ticking time bomb that finally goes off. It’s nobody’s fault and everybody tries. When it’s real cancer, everybody tries. There are medications like poisons, and your face gets puffy and you’re nauseated and you’re dizzy and you can’t poop. And sometimes still it doesn’t work. It gets so bad that everyone sees how much it hurts and that it’s not going to get better. They have mercy on the patient in the bed, and they turn off the machines. They give them painkillers and make them comfortable, and when they go, everyone says it’s a mercy.

“It’s a mercy, Richard.

“Except, when you’re sick in the head, nobody turns off the machines when the pain gets too bad, even when everyone knows it’s not going to get better. They just keep pumping in the poison and telling you to talk about your pain like that’s going to make it better, and eventually you just run out of things to say. It’s the same pain all the time. All the time.”

–Ashley Ream, from Losing Clementine

 

without words October 28, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 5:01 am

I hurt.

I should have an explanation for my pain, a justification.

I don’t.

 

Frozen Silence October 27, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 5:15 am
Tags: , ,

I’m having trouble talking.

I hate when this happens. I’m supposed to be good with words; I used to be a writer. But now I’m just…silent. And I don’t want to be.

I have a number of friends, both online and in real life, who are having a hard time. I want to be there, to say the right things that will make them feel at least a little better. But the words just aren’t there. Just saying “I hear you and I care” seems completely inadequate, so I just can’t say anything.

I can’t say anything to people about myself, either. Yesterday, Fake Therapist asked me how it was going with NT. I hesitated and then told her everything is fine. I don’t know why, exactly. I just knew if I tried to talk about it, I’d end up frozen.

I have these weird dissociative episodes sometimes. I don’t think they’re switches. I just get frozen–can’t talk, can’t move. Most of the time, I’m still there, still conscious. In my head I’m repeating over and over the words I want to say, screaming at my body to move. But I can’t, sometimes not for hours. it often happens when I’m dealing with memories or flashbacks or when I’m trying to talk about really difficult things.

I just get the sense lately that trying to talk about anything of substance, I’ll end up frozen. It frustrates me intensely. I don’t know what to do. I hate this.

 

 
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