I'm not OK. I'm doing better in some ways, but I'm still very not OK. I'm so TIRED of hearing from medical professionals that I JUST need to push through the anxiety, make myself sleep regularly, and all the other nonsense they try to feed me. They don't understand. I don't think high-power professionals are the type of people who are capable of understanding what I go through. My doctor is currently running a practice and a half because he picked up patients when another doctor left town. This man, who can do one and a half times what any normal doctor puts themselves through just doesn't get that JUST doing what he could do isn't an option for me. He doesn't want to help me get disability. He doesn't even want to advocate for me to mental health that I need to do CBT with someone. He wouldn't listen at all when I told him I am Phone-Phobic, and he signed me up for a phone service called the Bounceback Program. He thinks I need to JUST push through my anxiety, not let myself avoid chores, and I'll be fine. My goodness, if I only could. But this man can't understand CAN'T from a psychological perspective.
The other day I spent half an hour just thinking about self-harm, just longing for a physical face to my pain so someone would listen and understand. Just thinking that if I could just focus on physical pain maybe it would feel better than this longing sorrow of looking for comfort from my anxiety. But then, when I have gone through physical pain, it was awful too. I just feel like I'm reaching in the dark trying to grab something, anything, so I know I'm not alone in the darkness.
I feel so alone and stranded and unloved. My husband and I were considering a baby for awhile, but now, after I thought we were agreed and going to do it, we're back to not. I would be a horrible parent anyway. My house isn't even clean, not remotely. I can't take care of myself, let alone someone else. And we had decided, when we got together, that we wouldn't have kids. We're not still debating because I think he's right. I saw a ray of hope, thinking I could remake my family by having a child. But it won't happen. Even when I offer to give my parents the one thing they ever treated me like I would certainly be good for and do what they wanted they still aren't willing to be a real part of my life, to help me heal, and to help me in general. I don't feel loved by them. I tried to tell my aunt that I don't feel loved by my father and she just went on to say that I am loved and he just doesn't know how to show it. There it is again, the not hearing me. No child deserves to be brought into this mess I call my life.
I am so afraid of dieing young, but I feel I can't really live either. And I'm starting to wonder if I deserve to. I can barely ever use my talents. I'm not contributing to the good things in the world. I just sit here, day after day, in fear and loathing and pain and suffering and depression and alonedom, doing next to nothing productive and spending the rest of my time trying not to hate myself for that and turning to forms of escapism. Who is right? Those who are treating me as a waste of air? Or the me who thinks if only I wasn't treated that way, maybe it would stop being true?