AndromedaHorse's Journal (replies welcome)

Replies welcome.

So, this is my first time writing a journal where everyone would see it. I have so much to talk about, but I don't know where to start. Maybe, I will start with describing how I feel currently.
As usual, I feel very down now. I was feeling okay earlier, or rather, I was actually feeling happy. I had bought some makeup in the morning. I rarely care about how I look because I am just trying to live everyday, so I was really proud of the fact that I bought something for myself. But then, I started to feel physically sick. I have been kind of sick for past two weeks and that ended up triggering my phobia. I can't stop feeling scared. It's so frustrating to live in a fear for a thing so harmless. Yet here I am. Most of the people find my phobia funny or silly. It hurts when they think that. And those who don't think like that...well, they say words like, "I am here if you need me." or "Stay strong." I find those words meaningless.

Because they never actually help. They just want to feel good about themselves. And I am well aware that they just find me a nuisance. They go quiet when I mention whatever is going on with me. Then they talk to me in a cooing tone as if I am some baby who can't take care of itself. Everyday, I get angrier with how they behave. They ignore my cries of help. And when I go overboard, I get blamed. Or I get looks of pity. Both of those things tire me out. As if getting tired by these racing thoughts wasn't enough. They have no idea how much energy it takes to just fight yourself. And you can't even blame anyone because the enemy is literally a part of you. All one can feel is a feeling of helplessness. I can't even cry nowadays. It seems that I have cried so much that I have lost my ability to cry. The only time I cry is when I get criticized. Getting criticized causes me such an amount of pain that it's physically unbearable. I do my best to not get criticized. Because I know it will break me. So I always suppress my self. Though I think, I have lost my self at this point. I don't even know who I am anymore.

So, all I wish is for an official diagnosis of whatever is wrong with me. At least, I would be able to get an answer for what is going on. And maybe, if I have a proof from a professional, someone will take me seriously.

Lots of things have changed in the past few months. I don't know whether I should call them positive changes or not. I am unable to think properly right now because my phobia has gotten triggered yet again (as it always does, it gets triggered nearly everyday), so I am sitting in a corner, trying to let the feeling pass, though I am unable to focus on any kind of job I am supposed to do. I have been unemployed for past 3 months, which makes me stressed. I wish I could enroll in an university already.

I started therapy, though I am aware it won't last long, since the people who pay for my therapy think that it's a waste of money. But I am trying to attend as many sessions as I can . I can't say what I feel about therapy in general. I get misgendered a lot in therapy, and most of it is unintentional of course, but it still hurts. I know I should speak up against it, but well, I never spoke up much about such things. Therapy has made me realise lot of things though. That's why I wish to continue it, because I am finally getting answers. But then again, good things don't last long, and in the same manner, therapy won't last long. I will have to fend for myself.

I have also realized that at the end of the day, I have to rely on myself and the only one who can help me is again my own self. I have tried hard to ask for help, but those whose help I asked have clearly showed that they won't bother with my issues, which is understandable. I can only improve if I try to do something myself. I don't know whether it's possible though. I have been stuck in this same place for years, or even as far as I can remember. The only time I remember being truly happy was when I was about 4-5 years old. I don't remember too many happy moments after that. All I remember is loneliness and embarassment and sometimes...anger. Sometimes, I end up thinking I am faking my bad memories to get attention. I feel every action of mine is to grab attention. Which is why, I wish I remembered what used to happen back at home. Maybe...it would have given me answers as to why I am the way I am. Maybe, I wouldn't had doubted myself to this extent anymore.