Late night oblivion... 9/1/2002
Afraid to open my eyes
Another day of grief,
A day of fear.
All alone I feel.
I try to justify all the pain,
All of this guilt before my eyes.Another day of confusion,
A day of wondering.
Is it ever just going to go away?
All this pain that I feel,
And all this anger, is it going to stay?
Ten o'clock in the evening,
Afraid of the nightmares.
Again my breathing stops.
All I can do is stare into the night.
What is it that causes this feeling?
Another night of crying,
A night of hiding,
Alone once again.
My heart feels empty,
And I can't cry another tear.
Another day wasted on insecurity,
A day of wonder.
Is this ever going to end?'>
I saw this on a depression board today, and it pretty much explained how I felt. I know for those that are reading that you are sick of listening to me. I am histrionic, a failure and pretty much a loser. Please don't feel to go any further, because I know what I am. I have sat here all of last night and through out all of the day revealing what and who I am to myself and I don't blame anyone for just turning their heads in disgust.
This has not been a good couple of days. I have tried to write an entry at least 12 times today, but each time the words made no sense and I found myself over on a depression board. I don't know what I was looking for. I know I couldn't find it here. I felt as if I had no right to burden any of the wonderful people here with my rotting self. It isn't fair to all of this community that has so much to share with those that truly deserve it.
I have found myself to be candid with my own feelings lately, and I don't like what I see. I find myself jealous of those that have small problems and make them seem so big. To them, they are. To me, I envy them. I wish I had those kinds of worries. I envy those that only have to deal with a "normal child’s" first day of school, or what I would wear to a function next week. I wish I had a function to go to next week.
I read how some are in love and how much they want to please their lover. I envy them also, for I have no lover to please. I don't really think I ever felt true love. I really don't know what I would do if it came up and took hold of me, making me feel it through my stubborn unwillingness to allow it inside.
I then read those of my friends here that have TRUE problems and have accomplished so much. I envy them as well, for they have some sort of strength that I can't seem to grasp. How selfish of me to whine when they have been through so much and survived.
How silly of me to feel so alone, when they have felt the true meaning of the word.
I am shaking. I feel there is no where to turn and no one that cares. I think I am losing my mind into that nervous state my Grandmother was in before the doctors started drugging her up with Valium.
I want to go to bed with all of my pills and never wake up. But to do so would mean 10 little eyes filled with tears and questions forever etched in their minds of why.
Their innocence lets them. They see the mask of strength, while the true self is burning a hole and trying to escape.
I don't know what I have done to feel this way, and to live in such pain. I keep getting emails of what a saint I am. Emails explaining how much I have helped them in their own pain. Letters of thanks and praise on what wonderful things I have done.
Yet, I wish I could write a letter to myself and say those words. I wish I could believe those words. I have done nothing but open my soul. I wish I could open my soul to myself and see what others have seen.
I can't.
I hate him. I hate him so much that it makes my stomach sour. Each weekend is another brick in the wall that seems to be endless.
"We can't help you, Mrs. B unless he hits you".
"We wish we could help you, Mrs. B but there really is nothing we can do".
"We can help you, Mrs. B. He is not good for you, and we will help you get out. Please have $2500 here in the office and we will begin proceedings".
$2500 might as well be $25.00, because this loser doesn't have a job that lasts longer than 2 weeks, and just struggled to buy school clothes for just ONE of her 5 children.
"In that case, Mrs. B., there is nothing we can do to help you. When you have the retainer, please give us a call".
I am sick of the words.
"My name is on the mortgage, so it is just as much my house".
"It is my house too, so I have every right to be here".
"Go ahead and call the cops. They can't throw me out. You can't get a restraining order because I haven't done anything wrong".
"If you leave, I will get you on abandonment".
I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know where to turn, how to think, who to talk to and what to do about anything. Each road I take is a dead end. Each dead end leads to another dead end.
I just want out. I am afraid that there is only ONE way out and I can't go that way.
Who am I? What am I? What is my purpose?
What am I going to do?
Another day of grief,
A day of fear.
All alone I feel.
I try to justify all the pain,
All of this guilt before my eyes.Another day of confusion,
A day of wondering.
Is it ever just going to go away?
All this pain that I feel,
And all this anger, is it going to stay?
Ten o'clock in the evening,
Afraid of the nightmares.
Again my breathing stops.
All I can do is stare into the night.
What is it that causes this feeling?
Another night of crying,
A night of hiding,
Alone once again.
My heart feels empty,
And I can't cry another tear.
Another day wasted on insecurity,
A day of wonder.
Is this ever going to end?'>
I saw this on a depression board today, and it pretty much explained how I felt. I know for those that are reading that you are sick of listening to me. I am histrionic, a failure and pretty much a loser. Please don't feel to go any further, because I know what I am. I have sat here all of last night and through out all of the day revealing what and who I am to myself and I don't blame anyone for just turning their heads in disgust.
This has not been a good couple of days. I have tried to write an entry at least 12 times today, but each time the words made no sense and I found myself over on a depression board. I don't know what I was looking for. I know I couldn't find it here. I felt as if I had no right to burden any of the wonderful people here with my rotting self. It isn't fair to all of this community that has so much to share with those that truly deserve it.
I have found myself to be candid with my own feelings lately, and I don't like what I see. I find myself jealous of those that have small problems and make them seem so big. To them, they are. To me, I envy them. I wish I had those kinds of worries. I envy those that only have to deal with a "normal child’s" first day of school, or what I would wear to a function next week. I wish I had a function to go to next week.
I read how some are in love and how much they want to please their lover. I envy them also, for I have no lover to please. I don't really think I ever felt true love. I really don't know what I would do if it came up and took hold of me, making me feel it through my stubborn unwillingness to allow it inside.
I then read those of my friends here that have TRUE problems and have accomplished so much. I envy them as well, for they have some sort of strength that I can't seem to grasp. How selfish of me to whine when they have been through so much and survived.
How silly of me to feel so alone, when they have felt the true meaning of the word.
I am shaking. I feel there is no where to turn and no one that cares. I think I am losing my mind into that nervous state my Grandmother was in before the doctors started drugging her up with Valium.
I want to go to bed with all of my pills and never wake up. But to do so would mean 10 little eyes filled with tears and questions forever etched in their minds of why.
Their innocence lets them. They see the mask of strength, while the true self is burning a hole and trying to escape.
I don't know what I have done to feel this way, and to live in such pain. I keep getting emails of what a saint I am. Emails explaining how much I have helped them in their own pain. Letters of thanks and praise on what wonderful things I have done.
Yet, I wish I could write a letter to myself and say those words. I wish I could believe those words. I have done nothing but open my soul. I wish I could open my soul to myself and see what others have seen.
I can't.
I hate him. I hate him so much that it makes my stomach sour. Each weekend is another brick in the wall that seems to be endless.
"We can't help you, Mrs. B unless he hits you".
"We wish we could help you, Mrs. B but there really is nothing we can do".
"We can help you, Mrs. B. He is not good for you, and we will help you get out. Please have $2500 here in the office and we will begin proceedings".
$2500 might as well be $25.00, because this loser doesn't have a job that lasts longer than 2 weeks, and just struggled to buy school clothes for just ONE of her 5 children.
"In that case, Mrs. B., there is nothing we can do to help you. When you have the retainer, please give us a call".
I am sick of the words.
"My name is on the mortgage, so it is just as much my house".
"It is my house too, so I have every right to be here".
"Go ahead and call the cops. They can't throw me out. You can't get a restraining order because I haven't done anything wrong".
"If you leave, I will get you on abandonment".
I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know where to turn, how to think, who to talk to and what to do about anything. Each road I take is a dead end. Each dead end leads to another dead end.
I just want out. I am afraid that there is only ONE way out and I can't go that way.
Who am I? What am I? What is my purpose?
What am I going to do?