yıη
So if I escape, will my pain go away?
- Jun 22, 2022
- 71
Your time is now. Begin.
Intro: This is my first post. I could have formatted it better and made it look more appealing, but this is what I had the energy for.
Preface
And to think I predicted this at such a young age. Who would believe that? To think that with such little knowledge of the world, I knew. Did you? But with a lack of experience comes the prospect of what could be. Is this ignorance? You tell me to first exhaust all my options, and I will tell you I had none, to begin with. I wanted to find a place to be, and I believed this to be it. Even here, I am still the one percent. Take nothing I say into account. For where you find uncertainty, you will likely find confusion. I am delusional. I am apathetic. I don't wish for death. I yearn for my sentience to be erased.
?
What would you have me do? You believe that hell comes after death, but I believe that I have been living it. Am I the incorrect one? Am I truly "unwell?" I admit the possibility that I may not be of sound mind. But- there is nothing I can say to combat that, is there? A person of an unsound mind would not be aware, would they? So nothing I say has value to anyone or anything. I am to be studied. You will look at this and ask, why? Why did I not tell you? What was I to do? It would have been cruel.
It would have been to gradually break you down, preparing you for what I thought to have been inevitable. For both of our sakes, I chose silence. Or I denied it. Or I was happy at some time, but my mind doesn't permit me to remember. I remember laughing. I remember having a desire to do things and feeling satisfied. But I always have felt like I'm always where the sun doesn't shine. As if there were a noose, like a necklace, around my neck that just won't go. There has always been this dark cloud following me. I'm tired.
To my first
Girl, how'll I love you? I can't love myself.
I wish
I thought there to be a power to a birthday wish. I believed the power to cease at eighteen. Yet I kept wishing until twenty-one.
To my psych
Did you ever want to see my quality of life improve, or did you just see my frequent visits as a way to stimulate your paycheck? I may not be able to feel as you do, but I see you. And I can read you. I pick up on your insinuations, and I know you've picked up on mine. I looked directly into your eyes that time, and you looked away. I saw that lip quiver. Yet you sent me away, telling me you don't know what to say. And you referred me to another Therapist, telling me the same thing my last one did. Did you forget? - Disillusioned.
You said I should go back to the doctor. Tell them that it is getting difficult to complete my work shifts. Tell them I have to leave my station often to go lay down in the bathroom. Why would I do that? I have prayed for this. I have used my birthday wishes for this. Yet, days later, I may have yet another moment where I come back around and start to wonder if things change. But it is continually interrupted by the realization that that is just a fantasy. It's being colorblind but constantly being told how beautiful the world is.
You asked me if I have a purpose, and I told you I have no desire to have one. Yet I came to see you did I not? But you sent me a letter saying I wouldn't see you anymore. And when I confronted you, you told me we could have one more meeting. That's not exactly how it happened, is it? I'm exaggerating again. I came to you early. I called you and asked for an early appointment. And you said I could have one more. But you didn't schedule it this time. You told me to call. But you knew that I won't.
So this is goodbye. Thank you for your assistance. You're only human. You push things away that disturb you. And I told you something that you couldn't make sense of. Something that isn't very common. You told me several times that I should see a therapist. You told me no medication can help a personality disorder. But I didn't ask you for help, did I? I asked you to make me numb again. Maybe I'll take another Lithium and see if it takes this way. My last one. You tried to coax me into signing a release to allow you to send my records to other places. I know what you were trying to do. You don't want me wasting another Psychiatrist's time. Or maybe not.
Feigning Normality
Has it always been like this? Did someone or something do this to me? Do I really believe this was written in stone? I've sure felt it. My memory of most of my life is gone. I've become so good at feigning normality. I'm a habitual liar. I know just what to say and do to make someone feel a certain way. I am a manipulator. I feel the need to maintain this Façade. Is this why I had such an interest in Psychology in school? I cannot even remember why I wanted to learn it. That's not true. I wanted to be able to read people better. And it helped. But maybe I thought it would better my understanding of human emotion. But in that, it did not help. I can sympathize with people because of the comparison of the pain that I have felt. But I will never feel another's pain. And that is isolating in its own way. But this is what I prayed for, no? I used my birthday wishes on this.
I understand the power of words. Wordplay can make you feel things. Ironically, Pathos was my best mode of persuasion in English and Literature class. I may be apathetic, but I receive no joy from seeing people in pain. Because I understand pain, I can recognize the severity. But I do not feel for people. I cannot remember if I ever have. This is a recent realization. I told people when I was young, but it made them very upset, so I hid it. I have always known I was different, as have I always felt different from other people. I have no place in this world, for I am too different. Too different to reside here. This is likely what caused my multiple sides. I've become such an excellent liar that I have fooled even myself. So much so that I struggle to see what is real or fake. I keep thinking, "surely it isn't that deep," but it is, isn't it?
You should see the reactions I get when I merely insinuate these things. Let alone stating it as a fact. I am an outlier. There are standards that society has set for people to have to satisfy. And I have no desire to meet these standards. And to try to live in this society regardless of that fact, constantly pretending, even to yourself... it does something to you. And to the best of my knowledge, it has been like this for most of my life. And then I get to thinking, maybe I am normal and just bored. I feel so bored. I wish I had died in the home of my abuser. I wish that he had been the one to find me. But he was never home. It would have been my sister, or hopefully, my stepmother.
So I do things to spice it up. It is difficult to find something that makes me feel anything unless it's pain. So I impulsively distance myself from my friends. I ruin my relationships, and I get rid of my connections. And in the moment, I'm glad. I even find it amusing. And then I flip to my Yang side, and I regret my decisions. And then I flip back, and I wonder why my confidence faltered. I'm tired. Is this just uncertainty? Is it the decision to leave being held back by survival instinct?
I wasn't always this trapped in my head. At least, I don't think. This inescapable feeling is somewhat new. I felt it before when I lived with my abuser, but for a time, it went away. And now it's back. It has been for a couple of years. And it has steadily become worse and worse. The idea that it was gone for some time should give me peace of mind that it could be gone again. But have I ever indeed been happy? There is a difference between happiness and ignorance. I am not asking for my ignorance back.
What do I "have?"
You told me that I have borderline personality disorder. Yet my psych knew that. And still, she prescribed me medication. Medication that made me numb. And I stopped taking them. She gave me stronger ones when I informed her they were not working. What I wanted was to be like everyone else. These were frequent moments of weakness. How dare I ask for my ignorance back? I have seen this world for what it really is. I have stepped out of my body and perceived it as an outside force. And I care not for it. Yet this is just one of my personalities, is it not? How long until I flip to the Yang side of myself and attempt to do something "positive" despite my Yin side knowing the truth? Well, what is the truth? Which side of myself do I choose? Do both sides wish for eternal sleep, or is it just that my Yang side isn't there as much?
To my abuser
There are times in which I wish I had hurt you. So that you could have felt a fraction of the pain you caused me. So you could understand, but what is "right" or "wrong?" Did you even do anything wrong? Am I the one who made it harder on myself by having my expectations set too high? I am beginning to understand the saying "I would not wish this on my worst enemy," for in my darkest moment, I do not wish this on you. You are not the one who will have to feel this. It is the woman to which you gave your seed.
And even now, with all my apathy, and the fact that I find that amusing at times, I wish I could avoid that. It might even be cruel. And not even in my escape, will you know. I envy your ignorance. And to think that I came back and hugged you. To think that I apologized for the way that I left. You have never apologized. And you never will. Why would you? You do not see your actions as mistakes. Not even in the absence of your creation, do or will you understand. And at times, I envy that. I harbor no ill will for you. I have freed myself from you, but if you try to hurt me again, I will show you a pain greater than I have felt. That is what you taught me, no? But I will end there. It's not yet time to discuss you.
Yang
And just like that. The direction of my thoughts change. My online friend gets back to me and tells me to send him everything that is wrong with me and tells me that he will research everything and find a cure. For there "Has to be a cure." And I say to him that there likely is (but the problem is that I don't want it.) He doesn't want me to be gone, but he understands he is not in a position to tell me to stay. He tells me this isn't my fault and that it is instead the fault of the monster who did this to me.
Maybe he's right. (I want to say, "But maybe I'm the monster," but I will save this section for "positive" thoughts. And just like that, they're gone.) When I got home from the psych, the local cat was lying on my porch. He had a cut near his eye, and the skin was peeling off, just hanging there. Is it human instinct to see this and care for the animal? I just went inside. Though now, my thoughts have shifted to the cat. But what would I do?
I'm tired.
Nota bene, these are my thoughts as they come. In one instance. They have no direction. Several were written out of order. At times I am talking to myself; other times multiple sides of myself. There are also times in which I am speaking to my reader. I care not for an easy read. Sentences directly after one another may not even correlate to the previous one. The subheadings are only there to center my thoughts.
I thank you for your time.
Intro: This is my first post. I could have formatted it better and made it look more appealing, but this is what I had the energy for.
Preface
And to think I predicted this at such a young age. Who would believe that? To think that with such little knowledge of the world, I knew. Did you? But with a lack of experience comes the prospect of what could be. Is this ignorance? You tell me to first exhaust all my options, and I will tell you I had none, to begin with. I wanted to find a place to be, and I believed this to be it. Even here, I am still the one percent. Take nothing I say into account. For where you find uncertainty, you will likely find confusion. I am delusional. I am apathetic. I don't wish for death. I yearn for my sentience to be erased.
?
What would you have me do? You believe that hell comes after death, but I believe that I have been living it. Am I the incorrect one? Am I truly "unwell?" I admit the possibility that I may not be of sound mind. But- there is nothing I can say to combat that, is there? A person of an unsound mind would not be aware, would they? So nothing I say has value to anyone or anything. I am to be studied. You will look at this and ask, why? Why did I not tell you? What was I to do? It would have been cruel.
It would have been to gradually break you down, preparing you for what I thought to have been inevitable. For both of our sakes, I chose silence. Or I denied it. Or I was happy at some time, but my mind doesn't permit me to remember. I remember laughing. I remember having a desire to do things and feeling satisfied. But I always have felt like I'm always where the sun doesn't shine. As if there were a noose, like a necklace, around my neck that just won't go. There has always been this dark cloud following me. I'm tired.
To my first
Girl, how'll I love you? I can't love myself.
I wish
I thought there to be a power to a birthday wish. I believed the power to cease at eighteen. Yet I kept wishing until twenty-one.
To my psych
Did you ever want to see my quality of life improve, or did you just see my frequent visits as a way to stimulate your paycheck? I may not be able to feel as you do, but I see you. And I can read you. I pick up on your insinuations, and I know you've picked up on mine. I looked directly into your eyes that time, and you looked away. I saw that lip quiver. Yet you sent me away, telling me you don't know what to say. And you referred me to another Therapist, telling me the same thing my last one did. Did you forget? - Disillusioned.
You said I should go back to the doctor. Tell them that it is getting difficult to complete my work shifts. Tell them I have to leave my station often to go lay down in the bathroom. Why would I do that? I have prayed for this. I have used my birthday wishes for this. Yet, days later, I may have yet another moment where I come back around and start to wonder if things change. But it is continually interrupted by the realization that that is just a fantasy. It's being colorblind but constantly being told how beautiful the world is.
You asked me if I have a purpose, and I told you I have no desire to have one. Yet I came to see you did I not? But you sent me a letter saying I wouldn't see you anymore. And when I confronted you, you told me we could have one more meeting. That's not exactly how it happened, is it? I'm exaggerating again. I came to you early. I called you and asked for an early appointment. And you said I could have one more. But you didn't schedule it this time. You told me to call. But you knew that I won't.
So this is goodbye. Thank you for your assistance. You're only human. You push things away that disturb you. And I told you something that you couldn't make sense of. Something that isn't very common. You told me several times that I should see a therapist. You told me no medication can help a personality disorder. But I didn't ask you for help, did I? I asked you to make me numb again. Maybe I'll take another Lithium and see if it takes this way. My last one. You tried to coax me into signing a release to allow you to send my records to other places. I know what you were trying to do. You don't want me wasting another Psychiatrist's time. Or maybe not.
Feigning Normality
Has it always been like this? Did someone or something do this to me? Do I really believe this was written in stone? I've sure felt it. My memory of most of my life is gone. I've become so good at feigning normality. I'm a habitual liar. I know just what to say and do to make someone feel a certain way. I am a manipulator. I feel the need to maintain this Façade. Is this why I had such an interest in Psychology in school? I cannot even remember why I wanted to learn it. That's not true. I wanted to be able to read people better. And it helped. But maybe I thought it would better my understanding of human emotion. But in that, it did not help. I can sympathize with people because of the comparison of the pain that I have felt. But I will never feel another's pain. And that is isolating in its own way. But this is what I prayed for, no? I used my birthday wishes on this.
I understand the power of words. Wordplay can make you feel things. Ironically, Pathos was my best mode of persuasion in English and Literature class. I may be apathetic, but I receive no joy from seeing people in pain. Because I understand pain, I can recognize the severity. But I do not feel for people. I cannot remember if I ever have. This is a recent realization. I told people when I was young, but it made them very upset, so I hid it. I have always known I was different, as have I always felt different from other people. I have no place in this world, for I am too different. Too different to reside here. This is likely what caused my multiple sides. I've become such an excellent liar that I have fooled even myself. So much so that I struggle to see what is real or fake. I keep thinking, "surely it isn't that deep," but it is, isn't it?
You should see the reactions I get when I merely insinuate these things. Let alone stating it as a fact. I am an outlier. There are standards that society has set for people to have to satisfy. And I have no desire to meet these standards. And to try to live in this society regardless of that fact, constantly pretending, even to yourself... it does something to you. And to the best of my knowledge, it has been like this for most of my life. And then I get to thinking, maybe I am normal and just bored. I feel so bored. I wish I had died in the home of my abuser. I wish that he had been the one to find me. But he was never home. It would have been my sister, or hopefully, my stepmother.
So I do things to spice it up. It is difficult to find something that makes me feel anything unless it's pain. So I impulsively distance myself from my friends. I ruin my relationships, and I get rid of my connections. And in the moment, I'm glad. I even find it amusing. And then I flip to my Yang side, and I regret my decisions. And then I flip back, and I wonder why my confidence faltered. I'm tired. Is this just uncertainty? Is it the decision to leave being held back by survival instinct?
I wasn't always this trapped in my head. At least, I don't think. This inescapable feeling is somewhat new. I felt it before when I lived with my abuser, but for a time, it went away. And now it's back. It has been for a couple of years. And it has steadily become worse and worse. The idea that it was gone for some time should give me peace of mind that it could be gone again. But have I ever indeed been happy? There is a difference between happiness and ignorance. I am not asking for my ignorance back.
What do I "have?"
You told me that I have borderline personality disorder. Yet my psych knew that. And still, she prescribed me medication. Medication that made me numb. And I stopped taking them. She gave me stronger ones when I informed her they were not working. What I wanted was to be like everyone else. These were frequent moments of weakness. How dare I ask for my ignorance back? I have seen this world for what it really is. I have stepped out of my body and perceived it as an outside force. And I care not for it. Yet this is just one of my personalities, is it not? How long until I flip to the Yang side of myself and attempt to do something "positive" despite my Yin side knowing the truth? Well, what is the truth? Which side of myself do I choose? Do both sides wish for eternal sleep, or is it just that my Yang side isn't there as much?
To my abuser
There are times in which I wish I had hurt you. So that you could have felt a fraction of the pain you caused me. So you could understand, but what is "right" or "wrong?" Did you even do anything wrong? Am I the one who made it harder on myself by having my expectations set too high? I am beginning to understand the saying "I would not wish this on my worst enemy," for in my darkest moment, I do not wish this on you. You are not the one who will have to feel this. It is the woman to which you gave your seed.
And even now, with all my apathy, and the fact that I find that amusing at times, I wish I could avoid that. It might even be cruel. And not even in my escape, will you know. I envy your ignorance. And to think that I came back and hugged you. To think that I apologized for the way that I left. You have never apologized. And you never will. Why would you? You do not see your actions as mistakes. Not even in the absence of your creation, do or will you understand. And at times, I envy that. I harbor no ill will for you. I have freed myself from you, but if you try to hurt me again, I will show you a pain greater than I have felt. That is what you taught me, no? But I will end there. It's not yet time to discuss you.
Yang
And just like that. The direction of my thoughts change. My online friend gets back to me and tells me to send him everything that is wrong with me and tells me that he will research everything and find a cure. For there "Has to be a cure." And I say to him that there likely is (but the problem is that I don't want it.) He doesn't want me to be gone, but he understands he is not in a position to tell me to stay. He tells me this isn't my fault and that it is instead the fault of the monster who did this to me.
Maybe he's right. (I want to say, "But maybe I'm the monster," but I will save this section for "positive" thoughts. And just like that, they're gone.) When I got home from the psych, the local cat was lying on my porch. He had a cut near his eye, and the skin was peeling off, just hanging there. Is it human instinct to see this and care for the animal? I just went inside. Though now, my thoughts have shifted to the cat. But what would I do?
I'm tired.
Nota bene, these are my thoughts as they come. In one instance. They have no direction. Several were written out of order. At times I am talking to myself; other times multiple sides of myself. There are also times in which I am speaking to my reader. I care not for an easy read. Sentences directly after one another may not even correlate to the previous one. The subheadings are only there to center my thoughts.
I thank you for your time.
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