WARNING: If you would like to maintain the delusion that Cait is not a psycho, but rather a happy, healthy, normal person....don't bother reading this.
Anyway, I had chapter two (hopefully the final chapter) of my nervous breakdown today. I was in the bathroom tweezing my eyebrows when I heard my mom yell. I ran out into the kitchen, and she was crying and wiping up a mess that the cat had made jumping up onto the table. Water had spilled onto one of my dad's pictures.
I have to explain for those of you who don't know that my father is a complete crazy bastard. He is very abusive, but not so much physically as mentally and emotionally. So my mom was freaking out, and I freaked out even harder watching my mom freak out. I ran over and hugged her, but I started uncontrolably sobbing and shaking.
My dad came storming in asking "what the hell is going on? why are you always like this? blah blah blah....." and stormed off, I could not control what happened next, and I basically just fell to the floor gasping in between breaths "I fucking hate him!"
My mom took me to the couch and put her arm around me and was trying to calm me down, but I was SO uncontrolably- I don't even know, tense I guess?- that I took the tweezers that were still in my hand and started digging into my other hand, then my leg.
Ever since my mom found out about my S.I. in middle school, I've been pretty damn good about being sneaky about it. I mean, I've found really subtle place to do it (definitly not my fucking hand!) and ways that leave much less scarring.
My mom took the tweezers away and held me for a while, and I finally stopped crying after an hour or so, took a shower, and went to the gay bar with my friend.
This is usually a pretty good time, but my "I'm not going to drink" friend became my "im going to have a few drinks" friend, and it was just kind of akward (probably because I was in a bad mood anyway) and THEN she started telling me about how her and my other friends talk shit behind my back.....
so all in all a pretty bad night
I'm sure I'm going to have to go back on my meds, and probably back into therapy.
I just don't get it, everything is wrong, but nothing is wrong.
I absolutely disgust myself, but at the same time I truly do love myself.
I really don't know what more I can do, or what more modern medicine/psychology can do.
I hate feeling so damn alone.
Anyway, I had chapter two (hopefully the final chapter) of my nervous breakdown today. I was in the bathroom tweezing my eyebrows when I heard my mom yell. I ran out into the kitchen, and she was crying and wiping up a mess that the cat had made jumping up onto the table. Water had spilled onto one of my dad's pictures.
I have to explain for those of you who don't know that my father is a complete crazy bastard. He is very abusive, but not so much physically as mentally and emotionally. So my mom was freaking out, and I freaked out even harder watching my mom freak out. I ran over and hugged her, but I started uncontrolably sobbing and shaking.
My dad came storming in asking "what the hell is going on? why are you always like this? blah blah blah....." and stormed off, I could not control what happened next, and I basically just fell to the floor gasping in between breaths "I fucking hate him!"
My mom took me to the couch and put her arm around me and was trying to calm me down, but I was SO uncontrolably- I don't even know, tense I guess?- that I took the tweezers that were still in my hand and started digging into my other hand, then my leg.
Ever since my mom found out about my S.I. in middle school, I've been pretty damn good about being sneaky about it. I mean, I've found really subtle place to do it (definitly not my fucking hand!) and ways that leave much less scarring.
My mom took the tweezers away and held me for a while, and I finally stopped crying after an hour or so, took a shower, and went to the gay bar with my friend.
This is usually a pretty good time, but my "I'm not going to drink" friend became my "im going to have a few drinks" friend, and it was just kind of akward (probably because I was in a bad mood anyway) and THEN she started telling me about how her and my other friends talk shit behind my back.....
so all in all a pretty bad night
I'm sure I'm going to have to go back on my meds, and probably back into therapy.
I just don't get it, everything is wrong, but nothing is wrong.
I absolutely disgust myself, but at the same time I truly do love myself.
I really don't know what more I can do, or what more modern medicine/psychology can do.
I hate feeling so damn alone.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
hawksley:
Cait, you know that we're all here for you... dont doubt that.
syh:
I'm going to add myself to the circle of folks you can lean on. 