Friday, June 9, 2017

Just some healthy venting...

I felt like I needed to write today. I haven't done it in several months and it's for a reason I'm not proud of: I didn't want any of the "new" people in my life- new friends, guys from dating sites who are on my social media and people who might report back to my ex-husband so he could shake his head and say that phrase I know all too well- the one that makes my entire being cringe when it comes from his mouth- "She's the same Amanda. She'll never change" to see it and know my not so secret secrets. But I've had a tough week and I've been feeling a little down and if I've learned anything since my journey to "getting better" it's that allowing myself to sink down and lay in my own guilt never takes me anywhere but straight down the road to my own personal hell. So I'm not going to do that.

I'm feeling frustrated lately because I'm wondering when these feelings of hurt, abandonment and regret are going to let my heart rest. I'm tired of wishing my ex would change his mind and see that I'm a good person. I'm tired of losing friends, tired of family distancing from me, tired of people not understanding why I feel the way I do, and why I act the way I do.

But mostly I'm tired of carrying the constant burden of this thought: I am not good enough as I am. The person I am is not good enough. She is flawed, she is broken. She drinks too much, she gets too sad, she can't keep a relationship because no one wants to deal with all the different fibers woven into her personality. Obviously, I have a whole army of people behind me who don't feel that way and their support is what carries me through (that and my animals, without them I don't know if I'd be here) but when the one person in life who isn't supposed to walk out on you turns his back, and others you cared about and thought were friends do the same, it's really hard to shake off the ugly feelings. They stick to me like glue regardless of what I do. Sometimes my head is an Amanda friendly place and doesn't beat me up so much, but other times all I can do is sit and think about every single thing I've EVER done wrong, how stupid I am, what a train wreck I am, how no one thinks I have a good heart, that I don't deserve the happiness I've been chasing my whole life.

I've always felt different and at times out of control of my own reaction and emotion to things, even as a kid. I knew there was something different about me, something that was "wrong." It took till my mid 20s to be diagnosed with major depression and even then, things still weren't right. I was still "off." It took having the love of my life (or so I thought, because would the love of my life really do this?) walk out on me, claiming he was broken and blaming me for literally every single thing he had done wrong and that had gone wrong with us, for me to have the ultimate breakdown and get my second diagnosis: borderline personality disorder. I can't decide which I hate more, the BPD or the depression. The depression made my husband think I was lazy for laying in bed and not being able to move, for sometimes not having the strength to do ANYTHING, let alone clean the house. But the BPD made him and others think I was crazy, a bad person, dramatic, a heavy drinker, rude, disloyal. The way it manifested itself led people to unfriend me on social media, tell my husband he should leave me, stop inviting me to their homes. And it's almost more than I can bear. It doesn't matter that I'm the woman who stoops down to save worms from the pavement after it rains. The one who helps animals anytime she can. Who sends cards to her friends randomly, or leaves them surprises or sends them nice texts. Who fiercely loves her family and would protect them with her life. None of those good things about me matters because of something I literally have no total control over. It doesn't matter how many times I go to the hospital, how much therapy I do (100+ hours and counting since February...but I don't want to get well or anything, according to some) or what medicine I take. This is ALWAYS going to be a monkey on my back, a relationship destroyer, something that makes me a freak- someone that old circles I used to be in laugh about as they tell my ex how much better off he is. And I'm just tired of it. I try to swallow these feelings and hang onto the positive but I'm not as strong as I'd like to believe I am and sometimes I just want to curl up in a ball and have a good cry.

But I take my medicine every day. I take vitamins. I try to do things that make me happy- gardening, playing with my dogs, seeing my nieces, spending time with my friends and family, arguing with strangers on the internet. I try to look in the mirror each morning and like my reflection. I'm getting better at it but it's still a struggle at times and I really think that the place I am now, living alone with my animals, is where I'm going to be for the rest of my life. Because if he can't love this hot mess, who will?

If you're reading this and can relate, first of all I'm sorry. Second- I'm here for you. I may not always be up for lengthy conversations and I HATE talking on the phone with a passion but I'm a great texter and encourager and I will do anything I can to make sure you don't slip down where I've been. I've seen hell and I feel sick at the thought of another human being knowing how it feels. And if you're taking your medicine and/or doing whatever you need to do to be OK, I'm proud of you. You can do this.

And if you're rolling your eyes and saying I'm looking for pity or "calling people out" for attention, then you really don't know me at all and maybe you shouldn't be on my blog.


No comments:

Post a Comment