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.

It's been a long time since I posted here. A really long time. I had forgotten about this...journal thing but today, I somehow remember it. Maybe, i feel like I can truly be my true self in here. It's a space where people won't just leave me for being myself or just...affect me in a bad manner when they pity me. I came back here because I truly feel so alone and helpless and... nothing is helping right now. Or rather, no one is helping me right now. They try. They try so hard to keep up with me but all I can think of is how to push them as far as I can from myself because I am tired of them being fake nice. I am tired of them believing a persona of mine I created to cater to their needs.

A few things have changed since I last posted here. I have a temporary job and I can finally pay some of my bills by myself. Everyday is a war at work. Work is full of people who aren't like me. They like talking to other people. They feel at home in their bodies. They can work long hours and just...be okay. I try to be same as them. I bury my intrusive thoughts, I try to hide my body aches because it's so tired due to working and trying to keep up with this messed up brain, and I try to hide the fact that I am not a human from my colleagues. Yes, I have realised nowadays that I might truly be not human. I am not an animal either. I feel so...abstract. But I never tell about this to anyone. I just speak these words to the void, hoping these facts...these thoughts disappear from my mind just as they disappear in the void. But they don't, and they stay. They stay and they repeat over and over again, they tell me how messed up I am and how I am something worse than a human, a devil, a disgusting insect. It hurts. I wish for peace of mind when this happens. But it never comes.

Instead of peace of mind, there's numbness which follows. It usually arrives once I am done working. When I am so tired, I wonder why I am even working. I don't have anything to work for. No loved one (I have realised I truly only loved my pet hamster), no hobbies as such, no clothes or stuff. So why can't I give up? Maybe it's because of fear. Maybe it's because I have hope that today might be bad but tomorrow, I will feel a little human. Whatever emotion it is, I wish for it to disappear. Because surviving is so difficult. It's a lot of work. I admire people who survive in these circumstances.

Feeling like a non-human who doesn't belong anywhere has made me feel alienated everywhere. It has made me feel so alienated, that whenever I get ignored even slightly, a barrage of these...painful thoughts comes rushing at me. It's not their fault. Never was. But I blame them anyway. I blame them for trying to be close to me in first place. I blame them for hurting me. I blame myself the most for going crazy over such a small occurence. I know the best scenario will be to kindly extricate myself from this mess and isolate. But I am lonely. I wish to talk. So I keep up with them. I bury my true self somewhere deep. My true self which wishes the worst on them. My true self who wishes I wouldn't wish the worst on them. My true self who wants to seek some unhealthy coping mechanism to keep up with this messed up brain, the very mechanisms all of them criticize. (And it makes me feel so guilty when they say how bad these mechanisms are.)

My therapist said I have CPTSD. A psychiatrist I met with briefly said the same. I don't think I have it. Because I have seen people who have this disorder be much more...kind. Nicer. With friends. Me...I am not the same. I am not kind. I am quite manipulative. I refuse to blame anyone else for the way I am except me. So I don't acknowledge truly what she says. If only I was more strong, then I wouldn't be like this. That's what I think. If I was stronger, I wouldn't let anyone make use of me. I wouldn't be such a people pleaser. I would have been better. But I am not. And I am tired of being so weak. I am so tired.

I tried to find hope in religion and drawing. And writing. But all those things make me dread everything because I have very low self-esteem. I am scared to lift up my pencil, my pen and I am scared to clasp my hands in a prayer nowadays. Because I know that what awaits me is failure. So I don't even try to do that. It hurts but I feel if I saw proof of my failure in front of me, I will break. And I don't want to break. Not yet.

That's all from me. I wish someone clung to me and told me to live my life. If only one person said that, maybe I would try harder. But maybe...I won't trust their words either.