Chantal Kreviazuk - Invincible

In a John-Cusack-brooding-about-my-life-kind-of-way-without-actually-doing-anything-about-it: I know how I would do it. I have no plans to, for the most part I like living, but I know what I would choose.

I know it is cowardly to consider it, you can get over anything, blah blah blah. It has already been 5 months of internal turmoil – how long can I expect myself to do this for? I have asked for understanding, support and for my friends to reach out to me…but here I am. Miserable. Alone. Thinking maybe I have fucked up so many friendships it is no longer worth trying to piece them together again. When was the last time someone called to ask me how I was dealing with this? I know, I know precisely. Only one person has and I was a total douche to him. The others – not once. Not one time. What quality of friendships have I lacked to foster to not even provide me with that? To not help me stand and see the end of this. To not provide me with reminders of what was/is possible. To tell me how much fun they’re having, how they have figured out how meaningful life is. LIFE DOESN’T MEAN SHIIIIIIIIIIIT. FUCK. Get over it.

I keep thinking of ways that I could at least get a break from life, and NOT in a give-me-attention kind of way. Rehab…but it would take ages to get there. Car accident…but I do not want any lasting effects. Eating disorder…but puking makes me cry and I enjoy food. Maybe if I continue to speed excessively and a cop finally stops me and asks why I was going so fast I could finally admit, out loud, that I don’t care about my life so much. Probably I am a danger on the road. I fantasize about car accidents. Put me away for a while and give me something that will make me sleep, sweet dreamless sleeps.

Went to bed last night at 7:30 because I could not stop crying on and off. I did not want to be awake but I could not sleep for most of the night. Irony? Now I am out of bed and cannot wait to get back in it after work. But I will probably be alone. Alone to think, cry and wish I was anywhere, anything, anyone but who I am.

It seems the pills did do something but I will not go back on them because yesterday I called out for help. Someone grabbed my hand. But it was none of you. A stranger who will give me a break, in a non-judgmental setting. She will give me someone to talk to, someone to relate to. Possibly a lifeline. Something to glean hope from.

Now I will silently suffer through the day. Cry at my desk while trying hard not to. Counting down the minutes until one more day is gone and over with. Until I don’t have to “laugh” and be fake.

My boss told me he is pushing for my month time off in June/July to go to Europe..some new shit initiative about work/life balance. I don’t care about the trip anymore.

Bad Start to a Week

I woke up this morning with the fading memories of my dreams. It’s finally starting to leave me now but it did seem too real at first. Instead of waking up with MP, it was Franco. We had a lengthy conversation in which began in bed, then he put me in a car, drove me to an unfamiliar place and made me call his sister who gave me shit for hurting him. Ha.

When I did actually wake up I laid stock still for a couple minutes until MP spoke. I was immediately thankful he did because I wasn’t yet awake enough to realize he wasn’t the man in my dreams.

On to another topic: I feel fugly. I’m not one to whinge when I’m having a bad day, but this isn’t just a bad day it’s been a few weeks. My self-esteem is lingering on a precariously thin edge. I can’t look at myself in the mirror without being completely unimpressed; and when I look down I see nothing but…fat. My skin is revolting against me (this first time since I was 15 or 16) and I can only see bags under my eyes.

When MP tells me I am beautiful it feels like a lie. In no way am I doubting his sincerity, maybe he does see that. I don’t.

I think it’s time to hit up a gym regularly. Maybe that’ll help.

Is all this a leftover from Franco? Are my insecurities strengthening as I remember more and more of the hate?

Today, I swear I will do it today, I am going to call another place for therapy. I can’t put it off anymore because I know I am not doing myself any favours.

Wants

I feel like I’m screwing this all up, failing at living my life. I am thoroughly sick of myself and the crap with which I am dealing with. Sick of talking about it, thinking about it, typing about it…everything. Faking being okay is easy, much easier than…fuck it. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing or how to deal with this to most effectively forget about it. I am infinitely lost.

I want to be alone but I am lonely.
I want to talk but I don’t want anyone to remember this.
I want to feel happier but I don’t want it to be manufactured by pills.
I want to get better but do I deserve happiness?
I want to be the old me but I am losing the strength to get back to that.

Talked last night about going/being off the pills. Part of me thinks it is a good idea, being in a bad place at least gave me motivation to get out of it. The other part thinks I should keep on them – but when I’m on them I do not deal with anything.

Today I will try and reach out. I will make a phone call, attempt to reach the next step. But this weekend I think I am giving up again, maybe I will focus on organizing my house…it is at least better than thinking.

Yes, I have been happier lately; maybe that does have to do with the pills...it probably does. But I don't feel like it is true happiness because it is almost like a blanket has been thrown over top of what I am going through; just covering it up for the time being. The hurt and pain - they are trying to make themselves known with me all the time.

Is it better this way? Not really. I haven't taken any more steps to solve my situation; in fact I have been avoiding it more and more. This is not what I want.

Maybe I'm just tired today. Maybe it's the time change.

I haven't shared as much lately because nothing was changing. Just want to forget about this but nothing helps.

Carry On

I lost the want to help myself sometime during the last few days, or was it last week...I don't remember.

MP had to work yesterday and ended up not being able to come back until today. When did I become so reliant on comfort from someone else? It is not like me, I am a self-soother. Anyways, we talked for a while last night, he told me things. I wish I could see a sliver in myself of what he sees. Instead I can barely lift my head when walking, I am not impressed by my own accomplishments, and I don't like facing myself in the mirror.

My drive and motivation have yet to return. Instead I continue to crave solitude and I want to cancel every plan I have made. Leaving my house for pleasure, and not just work, has become a feat in and of itself.

Most of the time I worry that I will never overcome this; but there is a little voice in the back of my mind which reminds me of the possibilities. I'd like to return to the girl I was in October. I think it is her calling out to remind me of the strength I once possessed.

Time To Think

In school last night everything seemed repetitive of what I've learned in the last year. Consequently I zoned out and started thinking...I wish I didn't have time to do that. Reflecting is not good for me right now.

I feel bad because MP got back last night after being away for a few days and I am pretty down. Haven't been sleeping well for the last two nights which probably isn't helping. Today I feel depressed; I wish my coworkers knew so I could tell them I do not have the energy to face the day. I want my bed.

Had a dream last night that FG was sleeping with me, I said his name in my dream and woke up startled and afraid. Turned around and I thought for a split second that MP was him. Not so easy to fall back asleep after that.

I feel absolutely defeated; want to give up on today. My thoughts are occasionally darker than they used to be; I need absolution.

Breakeven

I know I have neglected to write and figure out what has been happening this week; I have been happy and did not intend to ruin it with exploration of my "feelings".

Finding a place for group therapy has proven difficult. As I continue to look the worries of not finding solace in these groups grows. Time will tell; I hope to find one soon.

Shoot, I knew it. Typing about this is making me feel it again, so I will stop. Spend some more time next week figuring out where I am at.