My Chest Hurts!!! Why Am I Like This!!! Can’t Be Normal About Making Mistakes!!! Have To Beat Myself

i need to talk it over more, but these are my stipulations for now while i’m thinking about it at 3:30 in the morning

1. i will wait until i figure out my dissociation, DP/DR stuff and feel like a person again. i don’t want to make any huge life changing decisions while i can barely remember what happened two hours ago.

2. i will make sure it’s a converation; i don’t want to blindsight him, that’s not fair. i want to try and keep open communication about where i’m at and where he is

3. if he doesn’t put the work in, doesn’t start going to therapy and taking care of himself by this time next year, i’ll reevaluate

4. i want to also check in with myself and that i can distinguish between whether or not my issues lie exclusively in his emotional unavailability or if my sexuality is coming into play (wow, haven’t had a crisis like this in a second)

i am feeling hopeless

i haven’t been taking half my medications lately and i can’t tell if there’s a difference or not

the meds that are supposed to help aren’t helping and might not unless they increase the dose and i barely made copay assistance for the first month

this week i made some decisions that might be making my life worse

i feel like i’ve been sinking in a hole for years and im tired of try to close my way out of it my nails are cracked and fingers are bleeding and im tired

honestly what happens happens and if it turns for the worst, it’s still an option

my good intentions will not negate the collateral damage i’m causing

thinking about this quote from bojack:

"But I want you to know that your actions have an effect on others, and I hate you, and you are a horrible person, and not understanding that you're a horrible person does not make you less of a horrible person".

i was there for five hours, brought dinner home, and when i got back, he’d moved furniture again and i immediately had an emotional response. then he asked if i’d look at what he’d been up to and i obliged, trying to hide that i was upset.

he had set up a small desk area for me in his space- something i’d planned to do myself, but hadn’t had the chance

that’s what he’d been working on

and i’d been spent my time away talking about our issues

i wasn’t saying anything untrue or inaccurate to how i felt, but i feel terrible for talking about him so negatively while he was at home making a space just for me

it doesn’t negate our problems, but it’s a reminder of how much he does love me contrasted with the way i talk about him and that really hurts

the timing is a little conveniently inconvenient. sometimes i wonder if her just knows

i don’t hate him, i don’t even dislike him. i love him with everything i have, but it’s so hard

his dismissal of my emotions, his neglect of his own, his complacency, unwillingness to grow is putting me in a position. the barrier there is between us is apparent to not just me

and i know he has his own side of the story and i would love to hear it

but he won’t talk to me

and that’s where we’re at. a standstill.

he said once he figures out his schedule, and gets his insurance figured out, he’ll try therapy

a year. i’m going to try and give it a year

i love people

i love my peace, but i love people

casually, in passing

no i’d never admit it

but working my stupid little retail job, all these brief interactions

i have my days, my minutes, but a lot of time it really is just people

i’ll be okay when i can feel again. when i can look at myself in the mirror without feeling the discomfort of making eye contact with a stranger. when i stop feeling like i’m in someone else’s body. when i can remember my day like i lived it and not like i watched a bad movie i’m trying to recall.

i’ll be okay when every day stops feeling like time lost because i can’t remember it.

i can’t remember it, i can’t feel anything, nothing feels real and i’m forgetting life as it happens to me and i feel like i don’t belong here

i feel like i don’t belong here.

i guess that’s not a new feeling for me.

fucking sick loser

i don’t feel anything, not really

my emotions don’t reach me

i’m so far away from myself

it feels like i’m being nudged

just sensations, mild discomfort

nothing gets past the barrier

it’s like throwing stones at a brick wall

i’m numb to everything except anxiety and the pit in my stomach!! it feels bad!!! everything feels bad!!!

i’m afraid of my death

not because i’m afraid of dying,

but because i’m afraid of what will be unearthed about me

i’m worried that my belongings, my journals, writings, drawings, will be known

i’ve worked so hard to curate this perception of myself, i’ve worked so hard to be someone that causes little friction, few waves, minimizes collateral

i don’t want my sins and dark thoughts to tarnish what i’ve built

i don’t want anyone hurting any further