After reading Lionness' blog entry about terrrorism, I felt like being angry. I don't think I'm angry nearly enough, and I don't say it well enough. I'm way too scared to do that.
But the last two days I feel like a package labelled 'UNSTABLE PSYCHO-PATRONIZE CAREFULLY'. I've seen a doctor, a counsellor, a nurse and now some other person. I'm a freak. How on earth am I going to move on when they believe its something I could just snap out of?
Why didn't they tell me this when I was 12, and I had a bottle of paracetemol in my hands, and I was serious. What the hell stopped me? I had almost lost Maria, I was losing everything and nobody had a clue. It'd make the headlines, but I didn't do it because it hurt too much. I couldnt bear the idea of death, of drowning, my voice came out, told me what to do and I was reborn. It had nothing to do with what I looked like.
They say my case is 'very worrisome'. I know that, so why are you asking about my family, about college how everything is so new, how exams must tire me out, how do you handle the pressure. You are so brave, seeing us like this, being so honest, but I must say you seem a little to happy to be depressed. Too confident, too coherent. Are you sure its not a phase you're going through? Maybe you need to lose weight. Get a grip. Take some drugs. In six months, you'll be happy (again). Tut tut, you've been cutting yourself again, haven't you? This is silly. You're too 'precious' for this.
Admit it. I'm a bloody drop in the ocean.
Goodness, why didn't I hear about this sooner? I mightn't had to cut my arms, I could swim again. I could sing words about being 'cut up' without wincing. I wouldn't have to be so afraid of losing everything, because I shouldn't be depressed, yet I'm way too sad to see clearly. Think wisely. Listen properly. I wouldn't be so scared to be loved.
Can you expect me to fall at your feet, cry my heart and suddenly make sense? Must I tell you Why....despite the good grades, good friends, good future, good family, good living, great music, great books, in this sea of greatness and good stuff I'm drifting further away from ever being happy again. Why? Because two days ago I was so low I cried to my friend, slid down to the floor and realised the wrenching inside my gut will never go away. That this will end in some way. That I'm just terrified because I'm not sure how its going to end and I'm scared of telling the people who are supposed to help because they might take away more of my liberties. They might shove me under the mental health act, into a loony bin for a month so I could forget who I am and become so...much...better.
There are tears in my eyes and I don't know who I'm shouting at, but I think I can face my salesmen now.
About Me
- Serialangel
- London/Manchester, England, United Kingdom
- I AM 18 I am black, atheist, depressed and erm, lesbianic with an inherent fear of boredom. I can do anything, right? I know that I'm smart, funny, "pretty", a calming influence. Yet I'm full of so many fuck-ups its hard to believe that sometimes. I'm a true bibliophile, :) My feelings on the future changes every day - fear, w00tness, confusion, blank Sometimes I'm in recovery, sometimes I'm actively trying to destroy myself and no one can stop me... My life is just one long story, like everyone else's. I live with my Dad and my brother, but I'm rainy strange old Manchester where, just maybe, my real life will begin. Oh, and I'm gifted. Apparently. I don't know. That doesn't sit well with me. Read this blog and find out why.
1 comment:
Well... How do i tackle this? I suppose my post wasn't for a 16-year-old to read, even if she's a genius. Make that especially if she's a genius. It wasn't meant to make people angry. It was meant for me not to be so angry anymore, not to be so frightened anymore. And it worked. But i've had practice in this. Anger is ok as long as it's not pervasive and consuming. Anger is sane because it's a way of digesting fear (Note: adults are often very scared too, only we've learned fear doesn't kill. The lucky ones among us anyway.)
Talking to all those people doesn't make you a freak. Cutting yourself makes you a bit of a freak statistically, true. But it doesn't define you, it defines yoru life strategy at best. Maybe they aren't the right ones for you. Maybe you're not giving them a real chance, since you admit to not really telling them everything. And you're pretty good at manipulating so there's a more than average chance they have no clue, really. Change isn't necessarily a bad thing. Good changes wouldn't obliterate who you are. They'd make you happier. Happier is good, it really is. Happier is worth it. It wouldn't diminish you, it would make you MORE. And stronger. Stronger is worth it too.
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