|Psychology and Mental Health Forum|
|Author:||OMNICELL [ Sat Apr 21, 2012 4:24 am ]|
|Blog Subject:||Blog 55|
Continuation of relationship topics:
Im preparing at sometime to go back out into the real world. My body has been outside, not my mind. my mind has been in a secession of CPTSD carnivals running back and fourth, looking for a trap door to escape the insanity.
At some point in the future I will say hello to strangers and ask them things, and call them things. Ive never text before, so I may have to learn that. Iv'e never had a cell phone. I don't want one. I would like a new Ipad 3.
I don't feel worthy. Its not that I don't have anything to offer someone. I don't have anything that others consider important or of value; of worth. Regardless of the real value of a thing, Im stuck dealing with a toy train ; not the real ones.
I am a higher more sensitive value-person. In my imagination Im with others who appreciate me. I don't have to explain who or what I am or lower myself to crude human inspired liturgies. instead, I may bask in awakenings of frigid Voltaire enlightenment. A secluded ray of hope in a dark sunshine- cloudiness, an open water hose in a dry ruthlessness.
Never get out of the boat she said, as it was sinking.
I am a very valuable human being. Yet, no one knows.
I am of worth. I am not noticed of worth! What the ######6 Hell is someone suppose to do with this society. I live in an emotional bomb shelter, a fall out cubical. Im safe; safe like hate.
Im of value, Im not valued. ###$, they never taught me about this in school!. No one prepared me for obscurity. ( " High, who do you attract? Weirdos, Why!, I don't know why!, Are you a weirdo, a creepo, No! Then why do you attract people of no worth. Hmm. Because Im worth something? that makes no sense. You attract what you are. Correct. unless your in my society, where right is wrong, wrong is right, up is down, and sideways is backwards. You will never understand upside down enlightenment. The whole place is like a ######6 backwards carnival ride). The front doors in the back by the treatment center. Tickets please!.
Im an Honest horse. Honesty horse?.
My first love: I'll try to drill into this again.
I loved her with all of my heart. I really cared about her. Her sensitivity and her soul and her sadness. We are one (possibly). She tried very hard when I was around her. I didn't think I was good enough.
I was shocked by the whole experience. I was very sick mentally, about to get much sicker.
I was alone. That is the major problem. I was completely alone at that time. I was 14 to 16 years old. I needed my parents. I needed feedback, safety, love, acceptance, I needed normal. I would not be getting any normal. I was hated from the beginning. And I am still hated now. The product of being brought up by social paths.
I write these blogs for a reason. Im looking to release each layer of denial that I may deal with the truth and the reality that is set upon me and in front of me.
The hardest part of this journey is finding myself aways alone. It makes no sense. Yet, it is the way of things.
My problems when younger are aloneness. No one can do things alone, nor are they suppose to. One is suppose to have loving people around to help, to gain feedback. I was alone. I was abandon and thrown away. By the time I met my first love it was to late. I could not function. I needed a parent to work things through. I needed advice on my feelings and how to proceed. I did not get advice, I had no support; None.. Psych support is what I needed; since the age of 9 I needed it. I was destroyed by the people I was living with. I was hated and not wanted. I was a throw away.
I became dissociative to survive. Then massively so. I had no protection. They wanted me killed.
Im attempting to wake up. That is why I write what I write. When I see the truth, I feel the aloneness. That is the hard part. To feel the aloneness with no support.
As I feel these realities again, I am alone again with no support. The lack of support is what kills a person. To remember all of this as I am sitting here alone or walking down a street alone is to much. I become suicidal. I want to die and never wake up. I want it to be over. I was hated as a scape goat. This was my mothers doing. Im not sure why she tried to push this role on me. She wanted to, out of the meanness of her heart. Not sure. She was a bully. Thats the best way to describe it. She tried very hard. I broke. But not from her. I broke from reality from the sadistic torture of the whole affair, year after year after year of the torture of no family and no life at such an early age.
Its like living in a cell. I go crazy and leave reality. I find away back, to find Im coming back to a life in an empty cell. My mind cannot not take all of this. I cannot bare this alone. I never could take this type of pressure.
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