I hate it when I desperately need to write because all kinds of things are coming up but I’m not at home and I’m starting to lose it..
Today I got triggered by something and it made me feel really unheared and misunderstood. Was trying to answer questions that I got asked and before I could really make my point this person already interrupted me, not letting me finish. Then why do you even ask? Then he was making assumptions based on my half answers..
I am not important. People are not interested in what I have to say. They think they know me but actually nobody knows anything about me.
People trying to figure me out but are blind and don’t want to listen to anything other than the sound of their own voice. Well, I wonder how I’m such a mystery.. hmm..
Childhood memories becoming my reality once more. That’s always fun. I can’t tell how great if feels when everyone in the family talks through you when you’re talking and before you even finish your sentence they interrupt you. Or when someone asks you a question other people answer it for you. What’s also fun is when people color whatever you say or do by projecting their own feelings on your story so they never actually hear nor understand what you are telling them. Eventually you stop talking because there is just no point at all. Which frustrates them because they want to feel a connection with you but they actually made that impossible themselves and then become frustrated at me, trying to force information out of me. I mean, they control what they hear.. instead of listening. They control wether I aswer a question or not.. they control fucking everything and when I just shut up they try to control me by demanding a conversation. While my mind is like, fuck aaah!!.. don’t want to feel pain again so I’ll just steel your thoughts right now.. and you don’t feel or think anything so you just make something up so they will leave you alone. Or what also helps is people asking me about who I am and when I am halfway answering they are like.. no you that’s not true.. and then they tell me who I am and why I do things and what I’m feeling. Really?? Sure you know everything, I’m an idiot and I haven’t lived in this body my whole life, I guess you did.. haha 🙂
Oh some great example. While being in group therapy I had one appointment with the team of therapists and my family members. It was good for the process of my therapy that therapists learned about the family dynamics so they could help me recover better. Anyway.. I asked my mom to come but she ended up crying, really upset she told me to never ask her something like that again. She didn’t want to be in the same room with my dad, not even to help me. Yay… But my dad and twin sister showed up. They ended up in a really heated fight. My sister took the opportunity to sort of confront my dad and my dad just fucking ignored every possibility to heal our connection with him blaming everything and everyone for his actions. I was just sitting there, listening and observing until I was just dissociating my brains out. My therapists tried to be some sort of medium between them and also tried to talk to them about the reason why they were there which they completely ignored. You just couldn’t get in between them at all. So yeah, that’s the family dynamics.
Today I felt it again. This resentment and hostility towards people in general. It felt like nobody saw me and I just mean that it feels like walking outside and people just don’t see you. It’s like you are not there. Often combined with a feelings of emptiness and dissociation. It’s like you are not real and the world around you also seems unreal. You could walk there but at the same time feeling like nobody would miss you when you are gone because they don’t even notice you. You’re not important, your nothing. You breathe but you’re not alive. You exist but you’re not living. Which makes life a burden.
And I remember percieving everyone around me as angry and hostile. Like everyone hates you. So I turned cold.. like it was me against the world. Alone, because I didn’t feel a connection with anyone, not even my family. I stayed away from them. Until everything about me from the way I looked to the way I behaved became ways to distance myself from those angry people. Music was my only friend and I usually just looked at the ground because I even without looking I felt their disapproving eyes on me. If I did look up I saw high buildings and thought of going up there and jumping anyway. Being bullied at every school I went to and at every job I had probably didn’t help either. People hated me or they just didn’t care. They stayed away from me. Deep inside I just wanted to be loved like any other person, that’s how I became the perfect prey for predators. Only people who had the intention to use me would come to me and I thought that finally someone was being nice to me and walked straight into their trap. So that was a vicious cycle, because it showed me that people really were not to be trusted and the fact that I walked into their traps made me not trust myself either.
It made me feel so much rage inside. I hated people, didn’t trust anyone although I wanted to. This anger I held silent inside of myself was tearing me apart. With self destruction as my only outlet and suicide seemed the only way to escape this world, besides using drugs, until the obsession with death became a way of life.
There was just no way for me to break out of this state of mind. There was only darkness and I had become so immensly bitter and deeply sarcastic. Just roaming like that, day in day out. In the end I think this lasted for at least 10 years probably even a few years longer but becoming less intense in those years..
There was this chaotic hurricane inside of me while at the surface I looked calm, distant and cold. Classmates said I looked angry when they saw me walking outside, so they didn’t talk to me. Or I just didn’t even hear them because my music was too loud.
It was all so intense, just being on that emotional rollercoaster all the time that if a minor thing happened I felt like I wanted to die or at least cut myself which had become an addiction anyway. Just like smoking which I did too. To have those few minutes of relieve.
People often don’t see it in me now. The darkest years are over, I know that. That doesn’t mean that all of a sudden I’m wired differently. As I grew older I learned to, for one part, deal with life in healthier ways.. and on the other hand how to hide my mental problems better.
Today someone was trying to figure me out and he said he thought about a few things but said that he didn’t recognise those in me. I kept silent when he ended up explaining to me what borderline is. I just said nothing and listened. Internally I didn’t know if I felt like dying from laughter or from sadness because obviously I’m not wired like that. Just got the diagnonsense for years now.. lol! And he’s not the only one who’s unsure about it. I’m misunderstood. I don’t think anyone will ever know me.