I relapsed a couple months ago and of course everything spiraled down quickly. I've gone from 0 to 60 in a heartbeat. Thrown back in the familiar cycle like I never left broke out in the first place. How many times have I "quit"? How many strategies have I tried? It's all the same, I just keep coming back to it. Been at war since high school---- 9 years--- with no end in sight. The familiar cycle is a vicious cycle. Why do we do what we do?
enrolled public school for the first time in 6th grade, one year later I would start cutting. The next, a suicide attempt would be made. Fast forward to my Sophomore year and I would discover my drug of choice. These are MySpace days, then Facebook ones.
Frequency of cutting times steadily increased until it hit it's peak, senior year.
I decided in 7th grade and since then that I would be free to leave the Earth once my parents are gone. Surely the suicide of your own child would traumatize you, you would convince yourself from the bottom of your heart that it was in part, if not fully, your fault. Something you did, the way you are, your lack of something. I can't have that on MY conscious. I'd never say or think that my parents are culprits, and I don't want them to think they are either.
I felt bad for feeling bad growing up because I never thought I had a reason to, no trauma or anything else to identify as a cause. I concluded I'm fundamentally flawed, an accident. I'm here in place of the person who really should have been here. Crying and crying, apologizing, loathing myself, wishing I was dead, wishing I wasn't a coward and finally followed through with a plan. Staying up to torture and shame myself for being too much of a selfish coward to do the deed successfully. And my fear of hell and life after death held me back some times. So I'm selfish, forcing other people to endure my presence because I'm too scared to do what's right. I spent many many nights crying in despair, wondering what's wrong with me, wondering why I'm here, and wishing I wasn't born. As I cursed my birth, lamented about the struggles of life, the burdens, the pain... I vowed to never have children. In no way do I want to be responsible for subjecting someone with life because the world is too painful, too hard, too corrupted. This is something I really did think about a lot. No one asks to be born, they just are. Yet I have a four year old daughter regardless, and I'm terrified of f****** her up. I'm sorry she was unfortunate enough to have me as her mother. This is the real kicker too. I fear being mean to her. I believe my mom was mean to me too in some ways. But I really am mean to my daughter. I don't understand why. I love her, feel guilty right after and left wondering what the h*** is wrong with me. I legit fear that I'm gonna become an emotionally abusive mother. I don't think my mean streak is going anywhere. It hides and slips out here and there just like my mom's mean streak, brought out in the right circumstances. What did she do to deserve any of this? Absolutely nothing. She's better off without me in the picture. Her dad's new girlfriend is around his own age and has 3 kids. She has experience being a mom and my daughter loves playing with her new siblings. There's also a puppy and cat in the picture now too. All this, whereas in that same home it was just the three of us before.
I'm tired of trying. I'm getting nowhere, fast. Just wasting space.
I've been mixing my drugs, I know that's a dangerous game but maybe that's the point. My well-being isn't on the top of the priorities list. I also started cutting again. Satisfying and painful, and addicting. If I could permanently switch cutting and drugs, I would chose to have a cutting habit for the rest of my life, gladly. If I get too out of it I don't know what I am capable of doing to myself though.
These last few days I've been especially unstable as my daughter told me she missed her dad. We have 50/50 custody, switch back and forth one week at a time, and at the time she said that there was only 2 days until she would see him again. It cut me deep to hear that, because what I heard is really that she would rather not be with me. Am I reading too much into it? Probably. Knowing that doesn't make me read into things any less. Knowledge is power but sometimes it's not enough power. I can explain the intricacies of addiction in detail, give a lecture, answer most questions, from studying the disease on several occasions. This has not deterred me from indulging in my drug of choice. It's a mad, cruel world, I tell you.
Thanks for letting me vent.
enrolled public school for the first time in 6th grade, one year later I would start cutting. The next, a suicide attempt would be made. Fast forward to my Sophomore year and I would discover my drug of choice. These are MySpace days, then Facebook ones.
Frequency of cutting times steadily increased until it hit it's peak, senior year.
I decided in 7th grade and since then that I would be free to leave the Earth once my parents are gone. Surely the suicide of your own child would traumatize you, you would convince yourself from the bottom of your heart that it was in part, if not fully, your fault. Something you did, the way you are, your lack of something. I can't have that on MY conscious. I'd never say or think that my parents are culprits, and I don't want them to think they are either.
I felt bad for feeling bad growing up because I never thought I had a reason to, no trauma or anything else to identify as a cause. I concluded I'm fundamentally flawed, an accident. I'm here in place of the person who really should have been here. Crying and crying, apologizing, loathing myself, wishing I was dead, wishing I wasn't a coward and finally followed through with a plan. Staying up to torture and shame myself for being too much of a selfish coward to do the deed successfully. And my fear of hell and life after death held me back some times. So I'm selfish, forcing other people to endure my presence because I'm too scared to do what's right. I spent many many nights crying in despair, wondering what's wrong with me, wondering why I'm here, and wishing I wasn't born. As I cursed my birth, lamented about the struggles of life, the burdens, the pain... I vowed to never have children. In no way do I want to be responsible for subjecting someone with life because the world is too painful, too hard, too corrupted. This is something I really did think about a lot. No one asks to be born, they just are. Yet I have a four year old daughter regardless, and I'm terrified of f****** her up. I'm sorry she was unfortunate enough to have me as her mother. This is the real kicker too. I fear being mean to her. I believe my mom was mean to me too in some ways. But I really am mean to my daughter. I don't understand why. I love her, feel guilty right after and left wondering what the h*** is wrong with me. I legit fear that I'm gonna become an emotionally abusive mother. I don't think my mean streak is going anywhere. It hides and slips out here and there just like my mom's mean streak, brought out in the right circumstances. What did she do to deserve any of this? Absolutely nothing. She's better off without me in the picture. Her dad's new girlfriend is around his own age and has 3 kids. She has experience being a mom and my daughter loves playing with her new siblings. There's also a puppy and cat in the picture now too. All this, whereas in that same home it was just the three of us before.
I'm tired of trying. I'm getting nowhere, fast. Just wasting space.
I've been mixing my drugs, I know that's a dangerous game but maybe that's the point. My well-being isn't on the top of the priorities list. I also started cutting again. Satisfying and painful, and addicting. If I could permanently switch cutting and drugs, I would chose to have a cutting habit for the rest of my life, gladly. If I get too out of it I don't know what I am capable of doing to myself though.
These last few days I've been especially unstable as my daughter told me she missed her dad. We have 50/50 custody, switch back and forth one week at a time, and at the time she said that there was only 2 days until she would see him again. It cut me deep to hear that, because what I heard is really that she would rather not be with me. Am I reading too much into it? Probably. Knowing that doesn't make me read into things any less. Knowledge is power but sometimes it's not enough power. I can explain the intricacies of addiction in detail, give a lecture, answer most questions, from studying the disease on several occasions. This has not deterred me from indulging in my drug of choice. It's a mad, cruel world, I tell you.
Thanks for letting me vent.
