36 years of pain

Wed is my birthday. I will be 36 years old and I will have spent the majority of those 36 years trying to make people like me, love me, or at least respect me. Hell in some cases I'd settle for just seeing me, me as I really am, without changes, or conditions. Lately, it has all come to a head. I got married to someone my family disapproves of. This new act of disloyalty, as it has been seen, has brought on a fresh bout of rejection, and pain. See, I have know for some time that my parents and sister love me out of family duty, but, for the most part don't like me, or see me as very capable, or strong. While I am sure I have played that roll at times, I am not the girl they think I am. All of my life, I have tried in vain, to find that unconditionalness I want so badly. Romanticly, always choosing the guy that keeps me at arms length. I have battled depression and anxiety for a long time because of this constant feeling of rejection. Lately, it feels as though it is breaking me though, like I am turning into that unstable, easily wounded little girl that my family has always seen me as. I lash out in rage at anyone who reminds me how "unimportant" I am. How unworthy of love, respect, and acceptance I am. Friends, my new husband, even my daughter and step daughter are feeling the after shocks. Afterward, I am ashamed. I hate the way I act, the way I drive people away when I need them the most. I hate myself for giving in, for losing control of my actions and emotions. I hear the voices from the past echo in my head
"you are over reacting"
"you are too sensitive"
"What is wrong with you?"
"it was a joke, knock it off"
"I never know how you are going to interpret what I say to you."
All of it implying I am the problem. I am the one to blame. I have begun to believe it now. I have begun to believe I am out of control, emotionally disturbed, unstable, and at fault. It has eaten away at me for 36 years, and now I am unstable, and I do hate myself. I blame myself, and I am convinced I am not deserving, or able to get the type of love and compassion I crave. I am in an endless cycle of hating myself for becoming the person they told me I should not be....I am weak. I scream and cry like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but in the end, no one comes to comfort me, and I feel less and less important or ok with each tear, and I have begun to fall apart.

Anatomy of a Breakdown

I have been delicately balancing sanity verses insanity, busy verses overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical for several weeks now. Then I collapse on the bed, sobbing and gasping for air, then sobbing some more. I am scared and desperate to get myself under control. Finally, I become numb and am able to move again. The panic comes in waves now, and without warning. My mind is spinning and I am overwhelmed by it all. I try to reach out for help, but the worlds I have fail me, and new words can not be pulled from memory as my every thought becomes jumbled. I feel like the weight of the world is upon me, and I am crumbling beneath all the things that used to bring me happiness. I am angry. I am scared. I am frustrated. I begin to lash out. My temper becomes short and I am not able to tolerate noises, and my skin feels like it is crawling. "Why does no one see me? Why does no one help, offer me comfort, offer me safety?" I am angry with them all, and I am yelling more loudly now, then I am SCREAMING. It is as though I am sitting helplessly as I watch reason and ration escape me. And all at once, I am screaming as loud as I can and I am hitting someone I love. The rage fills me to a degree I can not explain. My words are full of hate and venom. I am full rage. "SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF!...." The words escape my lips almost before my head comprehends them. In my head there are screams of frustration. Screams of pain, and the overwhelming need to feel loved and important. Yet, yet I can not stop the rage that is pushes people away. I go to the only coping mechanism I have left, and I turn my anger on myself. I begin to cut myself as a form of release. As the flames begin to die, the anger turns to shame, and pain, and fear. I begin to sob, and just like the rage, the sorrow overwhelms me quickly. In no time at all, I am hysterical. The following day, I feel the physical affects. My arms are cut and stinging, There are bruises I don't remember getting, and all of my muscles ache. My head pounds from the tension and strain of all the emotion. I replay scenes in my mind and fill with guilt over the things I have done and said. I wonder what is wrong with me? Why can I not control this? I feel weak and crazy. I am embarrassed, and I don't want anyone to know how out of control I am. This is not me. This is not who I am. I am better than this. I am stronger than this. Why can't I do this? Why can't I control this? I am terrified now. I desperate as I am to control these emotions, I am terrified of my own darkness. I have been done this path before and it made me feel pathetic and sad. People took pity on me, or saw me as someone who needed to be handled with kid gloves or someone who needed to be fixed. I am NONE OF THOSE THINGS and I refuse, I REFUSE to allow myself to be seen that way. Now, what I ask myself. I know I can need help. I know I will continue to spin out of control until something interrupt my momentum, but asking for help will let other people know I am weak. So I continue to walk that line of sane verses insane, busy verses overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical, knowing that any little shift will throw me off balance once again.

Shakey Ground

I am trying so hard to hold it together, but the truth is I feel like I am melting down. I want to lock myself away and cry. My family, my daughter, my current job, my new job,my bills, my lawn, and on and on. Splintering my thoughts and making me feel overwhelmed, and as though no matter how hard I try, I can not keep up. Each time I forget, each mistake I make, disappoints someone, angers them, or is pointed out to me. I am at the point where I don't know who to trust or who to ask for help. Not in a paranoid, delusional way, but in the sense that I know long know my own truth. Everyone is talking at me, just talking at me, constantly. My thoughts are spinning, and I am unable to stop them. The recordings in my mind play over and over. Anyone, who deals with distorted thoughts knows these recordings. They are not voices, or schizophrenia, but the thoughts you play in your mind. The what ifs, the, the I should haves, the you still need to's that roll around in your head when your anxiety level is high. I have begun not to recognise what recordings are mine and what are other people's, based on other people's own insecurities and issues. I in a constant state of evaluating and analysing myself. It's not my fault. It can't all always be my fault! I am exhausted, I am empty, and I am confused.

I am beginning to show physical signs of my illness. My hands shake and my body is tense and aching. I am taking more medication than I ever have before, and I still feel my foundation crumbling. I have no idea how to prop myself back up. It gets shakier, and shakier each day. I am a single mom, with two jobs, and two pets, and bills, I can't afford to shut down. I can't afford to not function, emotionally or financially.  I hold up in the bathroom at work crying, or at home by myself pretending that my stomach is upset so because I can not face any more that day, and I have nowhere else to hide. Still they find me. The people, that demands in my life. They find me no matter where I hide. Needing something from me even when I have nothing left to give. Oh Lord please don't let me fall apart. Please don't let me end up in a hospital somewhere. Please don't let me look week to the people who already think I am not capable of taking care of myself. I am stronger than this, I am more resilient...I hope.

Don't Pretend My Elephant isn't Real

So I am wondering why no one seems to understand me. Am I not expressing myself well? Do most people not care? Do peopele expect me to be stronger than I am? Do I treat myself with so little self respect that it seems ok to talk down to me? Do people just not get how much anxiety and depression truly affect you? Whatever the reason, I feel like I am constantly trying to get people to understand what's going on with me. Yet they still seem to push, or disregard, or talk down to me for my "weakness" or "moodiness". When you tell someone close to you that you feel as though you are beginning to reach a limit on what you can handle before you reach self district they should take you seriously, right? Maybe I expect to much. Maybe I expect people to SEE I am falling apart and offer support instead of asking for support. It often feels to me like when I do ask for help (not from my counselor, but rather friends or family) that it is either not heard, or is more of a pat on the back and then it is forgotten. My father (who is also my boss) will say "go do some work therapy" meanwhile, I am proud of myself for even getting out of bed that day. My parents are the worst at understanding, and being supportive of my mental health problems. They don't believe in meds. They don't believe in counseling. They believe you suck it up and move on. It is hard to explain to people around you, even friends and relatives at times that you just can't. You can not just snap out of it. You can not explain why you are crying nor can you stop. No it is not "just life" (that's my mom's favorite) it is more than that for people who have issues with depression. And NO it is not acceptable to talk to me like I am incapable, or crazy. I understand the scope of things just fine. I am not weak or overly sensative. I have a real issueand I am really struggling. I will not just feel better tomorrow. And telling me those things only makes me feel worse, and if I say I am reaching my breaking point I mean it. Panick attacks, cutting, the overwhelming desire to hide away from some place so I can be left alone, I mean it! I am not looking for attention or being dramtic. I am very, very real!