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flowingtears
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Disappearing

Permanent Linkby flowingtears on Wed Dec 28, 2011 3:48 pm

I went back to see my doctor this morning, and she let me go home until next Tuesday.

I had an argument with her. She wants to know about the "major" self harm I have planned for after my discharge. I refused to tell her.
She said she'd like to keep me in hospital until I change my mind about whatever I'm planning to do. I told her there's no point, I'm not going to change my mind, regardless of how long she keeps me in hospital.
She wanted to tell my mother that I have something planned. I told her there's no way I'm letting her do that, that it has nothing to do with my mother. I don't live with her. Also, I'm 23, not 5.

I told her I don't want to stop the self harm. She said that while I may not want to stop, it keeps landing me in hospital. I told her that's not going to happen again, and she took that as me saying I was going to kill myself. I told her I'm not going to kill myself, I just don't want to tell her what I have planned.

She wants to have another case conference before she considers discharge. I told her it's pointless, that nothing ever comes of case conferences, and that keeping me longer isn't going to change anything.

K sent me a text last week, asking what day we could meet up. I told him I didn't know, that my leave was being reviewed (really, I'm just not in the mood to see him at the moment). Then he texted me 2 days ago, asking the same question. I didn't reply. I got another text today, asking why I hadn't replied. I sent him a text back "I didn't reply because, as I told you, I don't know when I can meet you." (reading between the lines, "go away and leave me alone"). He said, "You could've let me know. I do worry a bit about you."

He's really starting to irritate me. Worry about me? If that's even true, which it may not be, he's not allowed to worry about me. He's not meant to be attached enough to worry. I sure as hell don't worry about him. And we never talk about my self harm, he hasn't mentioned it since the first time I met him, when, after sleeping with me, he asked "What are the scars from?" Like it wasn't obvious. I'd told him before I met him anyway, but he conveniently forgot. I guess it's easier to sleep with me if he ignores the scars, cuts and bandages. It's easier if he accepts the happy, confident, optimistic person that I pretend to be, rather than the messed-up person that I am.

I think I might be angry. Why am I angry?

I'm angry with K, either for worrying about me or for accepting the lies I tell him.

I'm angry with my psychiatrist, either for refusing to discharge me or for being unable to save me (which is unreasonable, I know that).

I'm angry with my psychologist, for forcing me to think about how I feel, for bringing up issues without being able to offer solutions.

I'm angry with my therapist, because even though I know she cares, sometimes it feels like she doesn't take me seriously. I told her once that I was going to kill myself, she didn't seem overly concerned, just said she'd see me at our next session. I tell her how upset I am about something, she tells me I just need to accept it.

I'm angry with my mother. She's better than she used to be, but it feels like it's "too little, too late." I'm angry with her for not trying, or for trying too hard. Sometimes she irritates me so much, simply by existing, that I can't stand to be anywhere near her. I feel like screaming at her, but I have no reason.

I'm angry with my father, for being so selfish. It's all about him, about how he feels, about what he wants. All those years he wasn't there (although realistically, he was never really there, even when we lived in the same house). My sister once confronted him about never contacting us, and he said he's "just not that type of person" (i.e. someone who makes the tiniest bit of effort to stay in touch with their children). If I want to see him, I have to let him know months in advance.

I'm angry with everyone who apparently cared about me, and then abandoned me without a second thought.

I'm angry with everyone who was supposed to care, but didn't.

Most of all, I think I'm angry with myself. For letting things become what they are, for letting all of the things I already mentioned affect me.

I feel so damn empty. Like there's this black hole inside, swallowing me. Nothing is "wrong", but nothing is right either. I'm not broken, I can't be fixed. I'm just empty, and not-so-slowly disappearing.

~The Official Crazy Cat Lady
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