I’m trying to find some information to give to Sid, to my family, to help me explain .. me.
Words from my own mouth have never been able to do it. I trip and stumble on them because I can’t ever define what I feel or explain where it comes from. Once I start to, it’s like it turns into a giant cloud of explanation, and it starts to suffocate me, and my brain goes “fuck it. forget it. don’t worry, this is so fucking confusing you don’t even know what you’re talking about. Literally – what was the fucking question?”
I had my psych appointment on Wednesday.
C-PTSD, not PTSD.
The difference being prolonged exposure to trauma where I felt I couldn’t escape, as well as additional trauma created by decisions I made while affected by the initial trauma.
I’ve been online, trying to find a PTSD Specialist to start seeing, because during my psych appointment – my first in a year, and the first since I actually accepted her diagnosis – she said “Ok, excellent. So what do you need from me?”
Lady, are you kidding me? I need ONE medical profession in my lifetime to NOT make me tell them what I need – I don’t fucking know what I need, that’s why I’m here to see you! You’re the goddamn expert on this shit. I’m the one who can’t trust her brainfeels and is really fucking shit at making the right decisions for herself.
So I’m looking for an expert, most likely in Sydney, where I can hopefully attend monthly or fortnightly clinics on my RDOs.
In my research, I came across this page – Out of the Fog – a website for carers of people with mental illness, particularly personality disorders.
It’s been a really big few months for me – all this self-awareness that I’ve been having, after years of WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!? It’s exciting, and exhausting, and terrifying… and seeing myself described so goddamn accurately – for the first time in my whole life, reduced me to tears.
Sad tears, happy tears, thankful tears.
I’m sad that I’m so ruined for human interaction. Mostly sad that I hated myself for things I didn’t understand about myself.. and they weren’t my fault.
I’m relieved that it’s not because I’m a monster.. not naturally, anyway.
I’m happy that there – in black and white – is a description of the turmoil that goes on inside me – the shit I’ve never been able to put into actual explainy words – A way for my close ones to see that I can’t help it – I don’t mean it – I love you, I just go away in my head sometimes and sometimes I have no feelings at all about you.
Because the only thing that is important is the emotion I am experiencing right the fuck now. Not that I know what it is. I just feel – a thing, and your presence is annoying at the moment for some unidentifiable reason.
but in 5 minutes, just wait – i’ll be in there with my arms around you and a big kiss on your face.
The worst part of all this is seeing the damage that my own behaviour – which I didn’t understand and couldn’t control – has done to others. The very same behaviours that I was exposed to for years as a child, I have exhibited in my relationships.
I’m sad about that – but now I understand it. There’s a name for all this shit that I do – all these things people hate about me.
Because I didn’t know why I did it – I just knew that it bothered people and they were tired of me, and I was a burden – and they will say that I’m not, but rolled eyes, audible sighs, the ‘here we go again’ – you’re not subtle guys… I understand because I actually annoy myself, yet I can’t stop myself.
So this is why I need someone who can help me undo this. It can be done – this is one of those personality disorders that can be somewhat cured, or at least.. managed – with an absolute shitload of therapy. So why the fuck does my psych ask me what I need from her?
Guidance, answers, help to STOP harming the people I love with the effects of shit that isn’t even their baggage to deal with. It isn’t enough that I recognise the source of some of the feelings I have. It’s cool and all, but I need real help undoing this shit.
I don’t want to be this person. And I have no idea how to stop doing things that are in-built reactions. Compulsive responses to .. who the fuck knows! I do shit I don’t understand, it hurts people – then it hurts me – and then I resent those people I hurt because I didn’t mean to hurt them and they are angry with me.
And now I’m angry that for 22 years I’ve had a stranger inside my head, pulling the strings, pressing buttons that I was unaware of, forcing me to try and explain why I did or said things that I didn’t really do or say. It’s kind of like being drunk. I can’t explain it/don’t entirely remember it, but if you say I did it, I did.
No, I have no idea why. I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t help you. And now I’m angry, so go away. I don’t care about your feelings. I will later, but not now – mine are too big for yours to exist.
ugh. it’s ugly. selfish. i am a horrible, horrible person. stopping this behaviour isn’t a matter of deciding that i want to be different. I do want to be different – I always have – I just have no fucking idea how.
Um, clearly I need to see someone about this. And although this is basically me just brainspewing all over this blog, I don’t give a shit and I’m leaving it here.
Not quality writing – so apologies for that – but fuck it… this is the closest I’ve come to being able to explain my feels, so it’s staying.