succor
tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down
- Oct 28, 2020
- 104
I've already been walking a thread of a tightrope with staying alive, I've been on incredibly thin ice due to my chronic health issues but today really drove home that I need to leave.
I've always had a tumultuous relationship with my mother that I thought was getting better now that I'm almost 30. I thought we had both grown and learned and changed, but she hasn't. Not at all. She is still and likely always will be a narcissist that will never listen to anything I say or respect my boundaries.
Unfortunately, I still depend on her financially because I am disabled. I would go no-contact, but then I would lose the house and I couldn't do that to my partner. My dad isn't any better. Emotionally unavailable and childish. Everything is a joke to him. Conservative and ignorant and never there for me emotionally. They both think throwing money at things will make it shut up. It's me. I'm things.
Literally the only thing keeping me here right now is that I have to live at least long enough to make sure my partner won't lose everything and that he's as prepared as he can be under such circumstances. I used to think I was alive for the hope that I would get better. Now that that's off the table, I thought maybe for my friends. Then for my pets. Then one more day, just hope for one more day. Now I don't care about anything but making sure he's got a fighting chance at being ok after I'm gone, financially and emotionally.
I've started saving money under the guise of top surgery, but I know I'll never get it. Instead I'll be giving that money to him to make up for my part of the bulls and such until he can figure out a replacement for my limited income.
I was an artist, and a performer, and a crafter, and a big personality. I was vibrant and alive and passably good enough for what I was. And then chronic illness took everything from me. My parents broke me and I'm realizing as I get older that I don't think I can possibly be fixed. I think I've crafted my entire personality around how much abuse I can swallow without blinking. My trauma has always been a joke to me. Dark humor to get a laugh out of people when I accidentally over shared something. Now it's all just raw, open wounds festering and poisoning me. It just hurts now. Everything just hurts now, and I'm unbelievably tired. I'm freezing in my core and I trudge from minor distraction to minor distraction like dwindling campfires in the snow. New video games, scrolling Twitter, YouTube, rinse, repeat, I've been trying to buy myself some time for so long. It's stopped working.
I used to have so much love to give and I used to have to much hope that I would soothe others with. I don't have anything anymore. I'm completely barren. I can't make art without horrible pain because of nerve damage. That used to be the only thing I ever wanted to do. It was my dream for so long. I'll never get top surgery, I don't think my body could handle the trauma of surgery with how sick I am and I don't have the money regardless. I'll never be able to transition and feel comfortable in my body, love what I see and feel. I used to dream of the day I would look in the mirror and feel the love and grace and forgiveness and care for myself that I've given others. I'll never get married. I'll never accomplish anything, but really, what could possibly be said? What could possibly be worthwhile to leave behind, to memorialize, to speak of in regards to a life so unfulfilled and messy and, frankly, mediocre?
I'm sorry. This was long winded to say a whole lot of nothing. I hope your nights/days/moments are kinder to you than mine was today, and I hope that you feel peace in your heart of hearts- if not right now, then soon. I'm chasing that spark of peace and hopefully I'll catch it soon and swallow it into my chest for a moment of relief.
I've always had a tumultuous relationship with my mother that I thought was getting better now that I'm almost 30. I thought we had both grown and learned and changed, but she hasn't. Not at all. She is still and likely always will be a narcissist that will never listen to anything I say or respect my boundaries.
Unfortunately, I still depend on her financially because I am disabled. I would go no-contact, but then I would lose the house and I couldn't do that to my partner. My dad isn't any better. Emotionally unavailable and childish. Everything is a joke to him. Conservative and ignorant and never there for me emotionally. They both think throwing money at things will make it shut up. It's me. I'm things.
Literally the only thing keeping me here right now is that I have to live at least long enough to make sure my partner won't lose everything and that he's as prepared as he can be under such circumstances. I used to think I was alive for the hope that I would get better. Now that that's off the table, I thought maybe for my friends. Then for my pets. Then one more day, just hope for one more day. Now I don't care about anything but making sure he's got a fighting chance at being ok after I'm gone, financially and emotionally.
I've started saving money under the guise of top surgery, but I know I'll never get it. Instead I'll be giving that money to him to make up for my part of the bulls and such until he can figure out a replacement for my limited income.
I was an artist, and a performer, and a crafter, and a big personality. I was vibrant and alive and passably good enough for what I was. And then chronic illness took everything from me. My parents broke me and I'm realizing as I get older that I don't think I can possibly be fixed. I think I've crafted my entire personality around how much abuse I can swallow without blinking. My trauma has always been a joke to me. Dark humor to get a laugh out of people when I accidentally over shared something. Now it's all just raw, open wounds festering and poisoning me. It just hurts now. Everything just hurts now, and I'm unbelievably tired. I'm freezing in my core and I trudge from minor distraction to minor distraction like dwindling campfires in the snow. New video games, scrolling Twitter, YouTube, rinse, repeat, I've been trying to buy myself some time for so long. It's stopped working.
I used to have so much love to give and I used to have to much hope that I would soothe others with. I don't have anything anymore. I'm completely barren. I can't make art without horrible pain because of nerve damage. That used to be the only thing I ever wanted to do. It was my dream for so long. I'll never get top surgery, I don't think my body could handle the trauma of surgery with how sick I am and I don't have the money regardless. I'll never be able to transition and feel comfortable in my body, love what I see and feel. I used to dream of the day I would look in the mirror and feel the love and grace and forgiveness and care for myself that I've given others. I'll never get married. I'll never accomplish anything, but really, what could possibly be said? What could possibly be worthwhile to leave behind, to memorialize, to speak of in regards to a life so unfulfilled and messy and, frankly, mediocre?
I'm sorry. This was long winded to say a whole lot of nothing. I hope your nights/days/moments are kinder to you than mine was today, and I hope that you feel peace in your heart of hearts- if not right now, then soon. I'm chasing that spark of peace and hopefully I'll catch it soon and swallow it into my chest for a moment of relief.
