A whole bunch of nothing that I know won't make any sense…
Today, as usual, I am thinking about everything that has happened to me. I have no excuse to feel the way I do. There are people who have endured injustice, torture, horrors so vast I cannot begin to fathom. In a world where something like Blood Meridian can be true and can exist, I know I have no right to complain. I am cushioned by privilege. This is greed. It is greed that has brought me here.
I have been given access and opportunity that many people will never have. I know my life is filled with possibility. I know that despite how hard it has been to live alone, it is true that I have built a life for myself that many people cannot achieve simply because life has not been as kind to them.
And yet I am ashamed to admit that I feel I do not deserve it. Something feels misaligned in me. I am not meant to be here. This body and this life were not meant for me. I wonder what might have been possible if I had been worthy of what I was given.
It's time to face that people can see through me. That they recognise something false at my core. That I have carefully performed my way through life and that the performance is weak. I am indulgent and self pitying and sinful in my ingratitude. I have wasted time I had no right to waste.
I think of the recent incident. The ambulance crew. I do not know what I was expecting. I knew it was unlikely the drugs would work, yet I hoped they might. People try more than once and sometimes, eventually, it works. I told myself that if it failed, I would continue as I always do and try again later. I researched it. I read the studies. I saw that even the minimum recorded doses were still potent in the absence of intervention.
So I tried this. I took as much sertraline and propranolol that I could stomach. Promethazine to prevent vomiting as this is all I had. Two shots of rum because I hate taking pills. I still vomited some. The rum i've read would help a little to make it more potent. it's funny because now all everyone sees from that day is that I was probably drunk and acting up. Mammy definitely thinks I'm an alcoholic now. But maybe I am because I admit sometimes a glass of wine makes me feel so serene.
I messaged Mammy because I thought it would be cruel to leave her with nothing if it did work.
I remember feeling afraid and ashamed that day. This day confirmed so strongly that there is something about me that invites contempt. That the crew saw me as someone wasting their time, someone theatrical, someone craving attention. I imagine I looked ugly and pathetic. They were responding to what was obvious. If I had truly wanted to die, I would have done it properly. Quietly. Without involving anyone.
I was angry at the way one of them spoke to me, but its pride. Because I was embarrassed. They have the right to feel safe at work. The people and doctors on reddit made me realise this. The woman that said I was pretending simply saw what others have seen before. Something is wrong with me. I think of my friend witnessing it. I feel horrible that she must have felt so embarrassed. The police officers, who were kind will never to take someone like me seriously again. That's the impact I will leave for someone else. I have made life worse for someone else. I might have managed to turn the only good police officers I could find into actual police officers. I know the hospital staff room was filled with laughter and that they will retell my story gleefully because it was just a funny occurrence. Faking seizures for attention and wasting time and resources.
If I was going to succeed, I should have done it silently, without wasting time and resources meant for those who truly need them.
It is like at university when everything happened about my placement hours. I fainted at the start of my shift. They sent me home and told me not to worry about my hours. I thought this meant I could claim the hours under mitigation or some similar rule. I know there is something I am doing wrong and I brought this on myself. I should have known better. People said I was dishonest, difficult, aggressive. They were naming something true. I wish I had simply accepted it instead of defending myself. They were not the first to describe me that way and as long as I'm alive everyone will see it too.
I bring so much drama and stress. Every situation turns heavy around me. I'm manure in a carefully tended garden. Ugly disruptive offensive and completely absorbed in my own grievance.
Maybe that observation they made about dishonesty and Lucy Letby was true. Lucy Letby was at least likeable and protected. I know when people look at me they recoil and they know that I'm false. I am entirely repulsive. It happens again and again because it's true.
I have had one good man look at me, sleep with me. He kept his distance afterwards. I do not even think it was deliberate. Something about me pushed him away. He chose a beautiful, skinny, curly haired woman to spend his time with, to share his gentleness with. Maybe I'm rotten and that is why he cannot bear to be close to me or stay the night.
He slept with me because I was willing, and I know my body can be inviting. But his soul could not remain near mine. He never seemed to have time for me. He could never find time to listen to my music, yet I know he made time for hers. He is a good man. He never tried to hurt me. He cannot help that I am repulsive. Most of my romantic/sexual experiences have happened through coercion because I was naive or rape by force or when I have been asleep. I date women too but even women don't stay.
Today, as usual, I am thinking about everything that has happened to me. I have no excuse to feel the way I do. There are people who have endured injustice, torture, horrors so vast I cannot begin to fathom. In a world where something like Blood Meridian can be true and can exist, I know I have no right to complain. I am cushioned by privilege. This is greed. It is greed that has brought me here.
I have been given access and opportunity that many people will never have. I know my life is filled with possibility. I know that despite how hard it has been to live alone, it is true that I have built a life for myself that many people cannot achieve simply because life has not been as kind to them.
And yet I am ashamed to admit that I feel I do not deserve it. Something feels misaligned in me. I am not meant to be here. This body and this life were not meant for me. I wonder what might have been possible if I had been worthy of what I was given.
It's time to face that people can see through me. That they recognise something false at my core. That I have carefully performed my way through life and that the performance is weak. I am indulgent and self pitying and sinful in my ingratitude. I have wasted time I had no right to waste.
I think of the recent incident. The ambulance crew. I do not know what I was expecting. I knew it was unlikely the drugs would work, yet I hoped they might. People try more than once and sometimes, eventually, it works. I told myself that if it failed, I would continue as I always do and try again later. I researched it. I read the studies. I saw that even the minimum recorded doses were still potent in the absence of intervention.
So I tried this. I took as much sertraline and propranolol that I could stomach. Promethazine to prevent vomiting as this is all I had. Two shots of rum because I hate taking pills. I still vomited some. The rum i've read would help a little to make it more potent. it's funny because now all everyone sees from that day is that I was probably drunk and acting up. Mammy definitely thinks I'm an alcoholic now. But maybe I am because I admit sometimes a glass of wine makes me feel so serene.
I messaged Mammy because I thought it would be cruel to leave her with nothing if it did work.
I remember feeling afraid and ashamed that day. This day confirmed so strongly that there is something about me that invites contempt. That the crew saw me as someone wasting their time, someone theatrical, someone craving attention. I imagine I looked ugly and pathetic. They were responding to what was obvious. If I had truly wanted to die, I would have done it properly. Quietly. Without involving anyone.
I was angry at the way one of them spoke to me, but its pride. Because I was embarrassed. They have the right to feel safe at work. The people and doctors on reddit made me realise this. The woman that said I was pretending simply saw what others have seen before. Something is wrong with me. I think of my friend witnessing it. I feel horrible that she must have felt so embarrassed. The police officers, who were kind will never to take someone like me seriously again. That's the impact I will leave for someone else. I have made life worse for someone else. I might have managed to turn the only good police officers I could find into actual police officers. I know the hospital staff room was filled with laughter and that they will retell my story gleefully because it was just a funny occurrence. Faking seizures for attention and wasting time and resources.
If I was going to succeed, I should have done it silently, without wasting time and resources meant for those who truly need them.
It is like at university when everything happened about my placement hours. I fainted at the start of my shift. They sent me home and told me not to worry about my hours. I thought this meant I could claim the hours under mitigation or some similar rule. I know there is something I am doing wrong and I brought this on myself. I should have known better. People said I was dishonest, difficult, aggressive. They were naming something true. I wish I had simply accepted it instead of defending myself. They were not the first to describe me that way and as long as I'm alive everyone will see it too.
I bring so much drama and stress. Every situation turns heavy around me. I'm manure in a carefully tended garden. Ugly disruptive offensive and completely absorbed in my own grievance.
Maybe that observation they made about dishonesty and Lucy Letby was true. Lucy Letby was at least likeable and protected. I know when people look at me they recoil and they know that I'm false. I am entirely repulsive. It happens again and again because it's true.
I have had one good man look at me, sleep with me. He kept his distance afterwards. I do not even think it was deliberate. Something about me pushed him away. He chose a beautiful, skinny, curly haired woman to spend his time with, to share his gentleness with. Maybe I'm rotten and that is why he cannot bear to be close to me or stay the night.
He slept with me because I was willing, and I know my body can be inviting. But his soul could not remain near mine. He never seemed to have time for me. He could never find time to listen to my music, yet I know he made time for hers. He is a good man. He never tried to hurt me. He cannot help that I am repulsive. Most of my romantic/sexual experiences have happened through coercion because I was naive or rape by force or when I have been asleep. I date women too but even women don't stay.
