Hanging On
It feels like I'm hanging on by the tips of my fingers. No, by the tips of my fingernails... Too tense and I'm just waiting for it to all go wrong again.
"Are you as desperate as you were before?"
"On Saturday I was."
Oh gosh... golly gee whiz!...
Anger is a hallmark of depression
That helps, but at the same time doesn't help, to make this all seem a bit more reasonable.
I won't kill myself because I don't want to die. That doesn't mean I won't hurt myself instead.
It's all about power and control. I don't feel like my house is mine at all beyond my room because I have no control over it, so part of what's upsetting me is my lack of control over my situation. Secondarily I don't have control over my head about half the time. I keep tricking myself into evading the problem by not thinking about it and either filling my head with TV, books, or a humming silence. I hate having no control. It's scary as hell. And it's MY life. I can deal with not having control over someone else's life, but I really hate this lack of control in my own life. All I'm asking for is the right to put things where I want to put them, to have my things around the house, to make my own mess and clean my own mess, to decorate as I please in more than one room...grrrr....
Dammit.
I took a nap this afternoon. It was very nice, but now I don't know what I'm really doing. I woke up at seven and ate the remains of a cold dinner. Zuchinni is actually better cold even if it's already been cooked. My mother is somewhere...she left this morning. I should talk to my dad because the opportunity is so apparant and obvious, but I don't know what to say, and I don't want to try something while I'm feeling so emotionally unstable in the first place. I could work myself up and go at it with the anger fuel, but he never responds well to an upset tone of voice and I don't have a lot of control when it comes to filtering emotions from my voice or putting false ones there.
Rebs I actually just LOVE this mix... You have such a great selection of music... we want more... *evil grin*.
Trust me B, you are not a moronic fuckwit, it's perfectly okay.
Someone promised me recently that it'll be okay. "It'll be okay, I promise." Late at night when I'm freaking out all by myself I scream at them because I can't trust them enough and I get mad that they could promise something I find so unattainable. Also, because everything isn't okay they were obviously wrong, and I'm mad at them for...lying? That almost makes sense...
Trust.
Such a conscious effort.
I will trust to the constancy of change.
And hope for the best.
Accept what I get.
As what I get.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Eventually all these problems will resolve themselves or fade into the fog of ancient history. My life is insignificant to the grandure of existence. Everything passes in time. Let's just hope I make it.
"Are you as desperate as you were before?"
"On Saturday I was."
Oh gosh... golly gee whiz!...
Anger is a hallmark of depression
That helps, but at the same time doesn't help, to make this all seem a bit more reasonable.
I won't kill myself because I don't want to die. That doesn't mean I won't hurt myself instead.
It's all about power and control. I don't feel like my house is mine at all beyond my room because I have no control over it, so part of what's upsetting me is my lack of control over my situation. Secondarily I don't have control over my head about half the time. I keep tricking myself into evading the problem by not thinking about it and either filling my head with TV, books, or a humming silence. I hate having no control. It's scary as hell. And it's MY life. I can deal with not having control over someone else's life, but I really hate this lack of control in my own life. All I'm asking for is the right to put things where I want to put them, to have my things around the house, to make my own mess and clean my own mess, to decorate as I please in more than one room...grrrr....
Dammit.
I took a nap this afternoon. It was very nice, but now I don't know what I'm really doing. I woke up at seven and ate the remains of a cold dinner. Zuchinni is actually better cold even if it's already been cooked. My mother is somewhere...she left this morning. I should talk to my dad because the opportunity is so apparant and obvious, but I don't know what to say, and I don't want to try something while I'm feeling so emotionally unstable in the first place. I could work myself up and go at it with the anger fuel, but he never responds well to an upset tone of voice and I don't have a lot of control when it comes to filtering emotions from my voice or putting false ones there.
Rebs I actually just LOVE this mix... You have such a great selection of music... we want more... *evil grin*.
Trust me B, you are not a moronic fuckwit, it's perfectly okay.
Someone promised me recently that it'll be okay. "It'll be okay, I promise." Late at night when I'm freaking out all by myself I scream at them because I can't trust them enough and I get mad that they could promise something I find so unattainable. Also, because everything isn't okay they were obviously wrong, and I'm mad at them for...lying? That almost makes sense...
Trust.
Such a conscious effort.
I will trust to the constancy of change.
And hope for the best.
Accept what I get.
As what I get.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Eventually all these problems will resolve themselves or fade into the fog of ancient history. My life is insignificant to the grandure of existence. Everything passes in time. Let's just hope I make it.