I have anxiety that is really taking control. The positive is that I can be somewhat productive, to a point, as being active and busy helps contain it in the intense moments. It also means my feelings of hopelessness and being trapped are sped up and intensified, and that ideas and plans to end life are one of the few real options, so I action some of the plans as a way of managing the anxiety.

I am really trying to not give in to the anxiety, hopelessness, history, and black hole of me. However, sometimes it really does seem more logical and the best and/or only solution to end me. I cannot imagine ever not seeing everything he did, or what the other did, or how vile and disgusting I am, or what a hopeless person I am.

definitely stuck. At times i want to really ask for help, yet it is at those times that i feel so ashamed, worthless, awkward and pathetic, and probably vulnerable. And when there is no help or way to fix me?

I need this to end – somehow.

I feel like I’m on a trajectory – I want to get to the destination now and I want to divert to somewhere else. When the urgency is there, my anxiety is intense and it’s hard to see other viable pathways. Anxiety is high and feeling trapped in a no win life and I feel so guilty about that because I have so much but I am nothing and can’t make it right. 

I feel quite anxious and angry. I just think about focusing that on me, causing harm, and getting some relief. I don’t really want to go down that path unless it’s the final time. 

My father fucked me, he used me, he abused me.

So what that I can say that. It doesn’t mean anything. Saying it doesn’t alter it. It doesn’t make it less than what it is.

No-one really wants to hear that anyway.

It doesn’t mean what I see, or feel from this side. No words can do that. If it was represented in a picture book, no-one would read it, why would you. There is no way of telling that and therefore no way of hearing it or understanding it. If I can’t explain it or understand, how can anyone else understand or comprehend it?

If it is really so bad and shocking, why aren’t people shocked? Maybe I’m waiting and wanting outrage and anger and revenge on my behalf? Not acceptance and ‘support’. That’s just acknowledging what a hopeless person I am because of it.

I know practically that if I action revenge that my life is at an end, but it will also give me a win, albeit briefly, where I am justified and in control and heard.

I’ve always been waiting it seems.

Times I waited for him to come home. Waited for him to come to my room. Waited for him to be there, wherever, everywhere. Waited for him to touch me. Waited for him to stop touching me.  Waited for the words from someone to ask what was happening – dreaded but also hoping.

Waiting for the day to end when I had to go home.

Waiting to be found out what a disgusting thing I was but holding on to hope that I could make that part of me go away or push it down so it couldn’t be seen.

When I left, I think I waited for him to be or do something different. I had an idea that he would see what he had done and created and want to take it back. Clearly that has not happened.

It seems as if I’ve waited passively to be something  different for so many years, and yet here I am, the same core person I was when I left. It can’t be changed.

What am I waiting for now? So many things. Anything?

Quicksand; do I fight it or not? 

I feel like I’m getting more and more trapped in this hopeless life I have created. Why am I married? Why am I in therapy? Why do I have friends? As it has always been, Ive done enough to get by, but it is never quite enough to really change. I’ve never been able to get away from who I am and what I was made.

I want to yell and scream and tell everyone. I want to run away and hide and be invisible.

I want to take oblivion producing drugs. I want to get high and laugh and not care.

Yep, feeling a bit desperate. So what to do? Its not that I don’t want to be different, just not sure I can be.

Why do I become so inarticulate when I’m feeling like this?

 

Another week. What can I change so it can be different. I’m not sure. I can get through and be what I need to be. 

And what of next week? 

I want to be somewhere different. 

I see the only way for them to have consequences is for them to die and/or for me to die. 

That’s the only way I see justice happening, if I make it happen. 

Yes, there may be other ways but they’re probably not practical or realistic or likely. 

Caught in no-person’s land. I cant seem to live and yet I’m alive.

In the same week I buy yet more vintage fabric to make things that I never make.

I also apply for an application to apply for a gun licence.

In the same week I book into an 8 week philosophy starting in July.

I also purchased a book from exit international and make inquiries about obtaining nembutal online.

I have moments of happiness but I am so deeply unhappy and angry.

I am too fat, yet I drink and eat too much. I cant exercise without great anxiety and distress.

I am so tired but I don’t sleep.

I’m capable and funny and reliable at work, but I’m useless and boring and fake everywhere else.

I cannot connect. I cant yell, I cant talk. I am so broken. I need someone and something to help but i don’t believe that is possible. I don’t believe anyone can or truly wants to. I certainly am not able to fix me.

I cannot reconcile my ‘experiences’ with today. But I need to do something with them and it.

How. When.