Rue89
Visionary
- Feb 10, 2020
- 2,726
I've been writing this over the past couple weeks, getting my thoughts out, trying to sort out some things for myself, and just venting. Basically this is my story. Some of these things I've mentioned in previous posts, but putting it all together and digging more into my past has made me realize things I hadn't before.
Everyone asks how my anxiety started, what caused it. I'm not positive but I have some ideas. I have hydrocephalus and I have a shunt on the left side of my head for it. During my childhood my shunt failed many times and I had to have surgeries to replace it, the last one I was around 11 years old. We knew my shunt wasn't working when I'd get terrible headaches that made me sick. As a kid I had impulse control issues. If another kid was saying mean things to me I'd overreact and hit them. This would get worse when my shunt was failing. My mom thinks my anxiety might be caused from all the surgeries. I think that may be true or at least my anxiety was worsened by them. Looking back I realized my anxiety slowly got worse over the years. The first time I remember my anxiety being so bad that it made me cry and feel sick was in 4th grade science class. My friend had forgotten to do her homework and I was letting her copy mine. The teacher caught us. She was strict and as she was scolding us my anxiety spiked and I started to cry. I couldn't stop it. I didn't understand why I was reacting that way. While I knew we were in trouble I also knew that the situation didn't really warrant that kind of response. It steadily got worse from there with reactions to my anxiety like this one becoming more frequent. I'm not sure but I think that the summer before 4th grade was the one that I had 4 surgeries in one summer.
I was bullied in elementary school. Some of the worst were the kids that would be friendly to me one day then mean to me the next day. It sucked cause I never knew how they were going to treat me. I was also bullied by my brother. Actually it was beyond bullying. I'd even call it verbal and emotional abuse. His words really hurt me. He'd make me feel stupid and worthless, like I could never do anything right. If I tried to say hurtful things back he'd laugh at me so I'd hit him. It was the only way I knew how to hurt him even a fraction of the way he hurt me. Then he'd go crying to mom, saying that I hit him for no reason and he didn't do anything. She almost always believed him and punished me. He got her to believe that he really thought I hated him. He is her favorite; her perfect, innocent, gifted child who is good at everything and can do no wrong. I am the fuckup, doing everything wrong. I mostly just tried to avoid him. I still do. The main difference now is instead of reacting to him I just go and hide in my room.
I don't remember much about middle school. The school was big and I didn't see any of the people who had bullied me. My anxiety was as bad as ever and my brother's abuse got worse, his words crueler. I made a few new friends, and I still had my old friends, but we weren't as close as we were in elementary school cause they got closer to other people. I went to a different high school than them. The last day of middle school was the last I heard from any of them. I tried to keep in contact but nobody responded. It's like I no longer existed to them.
High school sucked. My anxiety was awful and I had many embarrassing moments because of it. I was an outcast. The couple friends I did make weren't in my grade so I only saw them on the bus. They were always too busy with their other friends to hang out outside of school. Everyone in my classes either ignored me or bullied me. Group work was torture. I was always left out and the teachers had to put me in a group, which was very awkward because I knew they didn't really want me to join them. Freshman year I became depressed and that's when I first started thinking about ctb. Although the thoughts were more because of the anxiety. I think the depression just pushed me over the edge and once I realized that ctb was an option I knew that was the only way to stop my anxiety. I really thought I could trust my friend and I confided in them. They ended up telling the school counselor that I was thinking about suicide. Then of course the school told my mom. That summer I was forced to go to a mental hospital for a month. Luckily I was able to talk my mom into letting me go outpatient. It sucked and just made my anxiety worse. My mom also made me see therapists throughout high school. My memories of the rest of high school are kind of jumbled. One year, it was either sophomore or junior year, I made an exit bag with helium. I was staying at my dad's house. I had everything except the helium and I brought the stuff with me. I tricked my dad's girlfriend into taking me to buy a helium tank. That night after they fell asleep I set up the exit bag. I didn't end up using it. I just laid in bed a long time with the bag on (holding it open so I could breathe). I was so scared that it would fail and my dad would find out, and if there'd possibly be permanent damage if it failed. Eventually I took it off and put it back it my suitcase. Looking back my logic was so stupid because of course my mom saw the tank when I got home and she already knew I had thought about the exit bag method before so she knew what it was for. I told her a lie that I realized I didn't want to die. I don't think she believed me. Then junior or senior year I started cutting. It helped with my anxiety. I'm not sure how my mom found out, or maybe she just suspected, but anyway she made me stop. My last day of high school was the last I heard from my friends.
After high school I did an internship at a hospital. There was a lot of drama. I hated it and it stressed me out so much. Right out of the internship I started a job that I sucked at and it was just as stressful, maybe even more so, and I finally quit. Eventually I got another job. I struggled with that one too and it just made my anxiety worse. I quit in March, 2019 after working there for two years. I realized then that I'd probably struggle at any job because like I said, I'm a fuckup and can't do anything right. I started searching for the most simple, basic jobs that would be very hard to screw up. I came up empty.
Around November my anxiety really worsened and became unbearable. I'd sometimes spend hours in my bedroom crying, heart pounding, and my stomach feeling sick from the anxiety. This would happen for seemingly no reason at all. I finally decided that I'm not fit for work. Around that time I started cutting again, but I stopped after a few weeks because I was afraid that my mom might find out. That's when I started thinking more seriously about ctb again. The thoughts had never really gone away. They just weren't so frequent or intense for a while. But now I'm all in and ending my pain is all I care about. The thoughts are constant.
An incident happened in February and I was forced to tell my mom about my anxiety. Of course she assumed that I'm thinking about suicide and didn't believe me when I lied and said I'm not. I also don't think she believed that I wasn't cutting. It was technically the truth then but not anymore. Then she decided to guilt trip me, and told me that if I killed myself she would too. But my anxiety is so bad and I'm in so much emotional pain that it's not enough to stop me, and that makes me feel like a selfish, shitty person. The thing that helps me not feel overwhelmed with guilt is her hypocrisy, that she thinks I'm being selfish and all she cares about is the pain I'll cause her, yet she'd be doing the same to her son and her parents and siblings. I've decided that my mom's actions are not my responsibility and that makes me feel like a bad person.
I've been realizing more and more lately that my memory is shit, and my concentration is getting worse too. It didn't used to be this bad. Now I have to write stuff down cause I never know if the information will stick in my brain. I just realized it's not just my short term memory. My memory of past events, activities, interactions, etc is also shit. Like I can remember the event happening but I can't pick out any specific details, moments, or interactions. It seems like the memories I remember clearest are mostly the bad ones. My mom and brother will talk about family - aunt's, uncle's, etc, and they'll mention specific moments, what family members did or said, details about them, etc. I don't remember anything about any of it. I feel like I don't really know my own family anymore. Or I don't know, maybe I never did, but I swear I remembered more before.
I've been trying to write notes to my family. I'm having difficulty finding the words though. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I'm very self-conscious and it takes me forever to write anything. I feel like my words often sound stupid. If I do manage it I want to write separate notes for my mom and dad. I don't want to just write one to my family because I don't want my brother to think the note is directed at him in any way. After all his abuse I don't think he deserves one. Honestly I don't know what I'd say and it would probably all be lies anyway. Unless I told him how I really feel, which I've also considered. I thought about sending him a delayed email with some details so he'd know it's really from me then tell him to go fuck himself, but I don't know if I want to stoop to his level. I still have half a mind to though. If I do, it would be an email because I'm afraid if I wrote a note, even if I put it in an envelope addressed to him, that my mom would read it first, then she'd for sure not give it to him. I don't think I've been giving him the credit he deserves for me being in the place I am now. For as long as I can remember he has made me feel worthless, retarded (he's called me that multiple times over the years and I know that's really how he sees me), and unloveable. I know it's all true and everyone is better off without me here. According to my mom we used to get along. I don't know when the hell that was. I guess when he was a toddler maybe. (he's 2 1/2 years younger than me) There are rare occasions that we do get along but it's usually because he wants something. I know it's an act and he'll turn mean any second, but I go along with it just to get a break.
The urges to ctb have been so strong. I've been thinking about doing it sometime next week. I still can't ctb at home cause my family is here all the time. I know I said that I didn't think I could do it anywhere except home, but I think I've found a place. I have gone there many times and feel comfortable, and I think I could ctb there. I'd have to do it really early morning before anyone is out and about because it's not well hidden, but I'm confident that I won't be disturbed as long as I go early enough.
Everyone asks how my anxiety started, what caused it. I'm not positive but I have some ideas. I have hydrocephalus and I have a shunt on the left side of my head for it. During my childhood my shunt failed many times and I had to have surgeries to replace it, the last one I was around 11 years old. We knew my shunt wasn't working when I'd get terrible headaches that made me sick. As a kid I had impulse control issues. If another kid was saying mean things to me I'd overreact and hit them. This would get worse when my shunt was failing. My mom thinks my anxiety might be caused from all the surgeries. I think that may be true or at least my anxiety was worsened by them. Looking back I realized my anxiety slowly got worse over the years. The first time I remember my anxiety being so bad that it made me cry and feel sick was in 4th grade science class. My friend had forgotten to do her homework and I was letting her copy mine. The teacher caught us. She was strict and as she was scolding us my anxiety spiked and I started to cry. I couldn't stop it. I didn't understand why I was reacting that way. While I knew we were in trouble I also knew that the situation didn't really warrant that kind of response. It steadily got worse from there with reactions to my anxiety like this one becoming more frequent. I'm not sure but I think that the summer before 4th grade was the one that I had 4 surgeries in one summer.
I was bullied in elementary school. Some of the worst were the kids that would be friendly to me one day then mean to me the next day. It sucked cause I never knew how they were going to treat me. I was also bullied by my brother. Actually it was beyond bullying. I'd even call it verbal and emotional abuse. His words really hurt me. He'd make me feel stupid and worthless, like I could never do anything right. If I tried to say hurtful things back he'd laugh at me so I'd hit him. It was the only way I knew how to hurt him even a fraction of the way he hurt me. Then he'd go crying to mom, saying that I hit him for no reason and he didn't do anything. She almost always believed him and punished me. He got her to believe that he really thought I hated him. He is her favorite; her perfect, innocent, gifted child who is good at everything and can do no wrong. I am the fuckup, doing everything wrong. I mostly just tried to avoid him. I still do. The main difference now is instead of reacting to him I just go and hide in my room.
I don't remember much about middle school. The school was big and I didn't see any of the people who had bullied me. My anxiety was as bad as ever and my brother's abuse got worse, his words crueler. I made a few new friends, and I still had my old friends, but we weren't as close as we were in elementary school cause they got closer to other people. I went to a different high school than them. The last day of middle school was the last I heard from any of them. I tried to keep in contact but nobody responded. It's like I no longer existed to them.
High school sucked. My anxiety was awful and I had many embarrassing moments because of it. I was an outcast. The couple friends I did make weren't in my grade so I only saw them on the bus. They were always too busy with their other friends to hang out outside of school. Everyone in my classes either ignored me or bullied me. Group work was torture. I was always left out and the teachers had to put me in a group, which was very awkward because I knew they didn't really want me to join them. Freshman year I became depressed and that's when I first started thinking about ctb. Although the thoughts were more because of the anxiety. I think the depression just pushed me over the edge and once I realized that ctb was an option I knew that was the only way to stop my anxiety. I really thought I could trust my friend and I confided in them. They ended up telling the school counselor that I was thinking about suicide. Then of course the school told my mom. That summer I was forced to go to a mental hospital for a month. Luckily I was able to talk my mom into letting me go outpatient. It sucked and just made my anxiety worse. My mom also made me see therapists throughout high school. My memories of the rest of high school are kind of jumbled. One year, it was either sophomore or junior year, I made an exit bag with helium. I was staying at my dad's house. I had everything except the helium and I brought the stuff with me. I tricked my dad's girlfriend into taking me to buy a helium tank. That night after they fell asleep I set up the exit bag. I didn't end up using it. I just laid in bed a long time with the bag on (holding it open so I could breathe). I was so scared that it would fail and my dad would find out, and if there'd possibly be permanent damage if it failed. Eventually I took it off and put it back it my suitcase. Looking back my logic was so stupid because of course my mom saw the tank when I got home and she already knew I had thought about the exit bag method before so she knew what it was for. I told her a lie that I realized I didn't want to die. I don't think she believed me. Then junior or senior year I started cutting. It helped with my anxiety. I'm not sure how my mom found out, or maybe she just suspected, but anyway she made me stop. My last day of high school was the last I heard from my friends.
After high school I did an internship at a hospital. There was a lot of drama. I hated it and it stressed me out so much. Right out of the internship I started a job that I sucked at and it was just as stressful, maybe even more so, and I finally quit. Eventually I got another job. I struggled with that one too and it just made my anxiety worse. I quit in March, 2019 after working there for two years. I realized then that I'd probably struggle at any job because like I said, I'm a fuckup and can't do anything right. I started searching for the most simple, basic jobs that would be very hard to screw up. I came up empty.
Around November my anxiety really worsened and became unbearable. I'd sometimes spend hours in my bedroom crying, heart pounding, and my stomach feeling sick from the anxiety. This would happen for seemingly no reason at all. I finally decided that I'm not fit for work. Around that time I started cutting again, but I stopped after a few weeks because I was afraid that my mom might find out. That's when I started thinking more seriously about ctb again. The thoughts had never really gone away. They just weren't so frequent or intense for a while. But now I'm all in and ending my pain is all I care about. The thoughts are constant.
An incident happened in February and I was forced to tell my mom about my anxiety. Of course she assumed that I'm thinking about suicide and didn't believe me when I lied and said I'm not. I also don't think she believed that I wasn't cutting. It was technically the truth then but not anymore. Then she decided to guilt trip me, and told me that if I killed myself she would too. But my anxiety is so bad and I'm in so much emotional pain that it's not enough to stop me, and that makes me feel like a selfish, shitty person. The thing that helps me not feel overwhelmed with guilt is her hypocrisy, that she thinks I'm being selfish and all she cares about is the pain I'll cause her, yet she'd be doing the same to her son and her parents and siblings. I've decided that my mom's actions are not my responsibility and that makes me feel like a bad person.
I've been realizing more and more lately that my memory is shit, and my concentration is getting worse too. It didn't used to be this bad. Now I have to write stuff down cause I never know if the information will stick in my brain. I just realized it's not just my short term memory. My memory of past events, activities, interactions, etc is also shit. Like I can remember the event happening but I can't pick out any specific details, moments, or interactions. It seems like the memories I remember clearest are mostly the bad ones. My mom and brother will talk about family - aunt's, uncle's, etc, and they'll mention specific moments, what family members did or said, details about them, etc. I don't remember anything about any of it. I feel like I don't really know my own family anymore. Or I don't know, maybe I never did, but I swear I remembered more before.
I've been trying to write notes to my family. I'm having difficulty finding the words though. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I'm very self-conscious and it takes me forever to write anything. I feel like my words often sound stupid. If I do manage it I want to write separate notes for my mom and dad. I don't want to just write one to my family because I don't want my brother to think the note is directed at him in any way. After all his abuse I don't think he deserves one. Honestly I don't know what I'd say and it would probably all be lies anyway. Unless I told him how I really feel, which I've also considered. I thought about sending him a delayed email with some details so he'd know it's really from me then tell him to go fuck himself, but I don't know if I want to stoop to his level. I still have half a mind to though. If I do, it would be an email because I'm afraid if I wrote a note, even if I put it in an envelope addressed to him, that my mom would read it first, then she'd for sure not give it to him. I don't think I've been giving him the credit he deserves for me being in the place I am now. For as long as I can remember he has made me feel worthless, retarded (he's called me that multiple times over the years and I know that's really how he sees me), and unloveable. I know it's all true and everyone is better off without me here. According to my mom we used to get along. I don't know when the hell that was. I guess when he was a toddler maybe. (he's 2 1/2 years younger than me) There are rare occasions that we do get along but it's usually because he wants something. I know it's an act and he'll turn mean any second, but I go along with it just to get a break.
The urges to ctb have been so strong. I've been thinking about doing it sometime next week. I still can't ctb at home cause my family is here all the time. I know I said that I didn't think I could do it anywhere except home, but I think I've found a place. I have gone there many times and feel comfortable, and I think I could ctb there. I'd have to do it really early morning before anyone is out and about because it's not well hidden, but I'm confident that I won't be disturbed as long as I go early enough.
