Approximately 2 years ago....
Everyone I ever talked to: ZOMG that lonelygirl15 stuff is soooooo awesome! I don't even care that it's fake, it just totally rules my world.
Me: That's silly. It sounds kind of....hm, how do I hang an air freshener on this...RETARDED.
Now...
The Great And Powerful FARK: lonelygirl15 is now some kind of sci-fi drama epic.
Me: *curious* *clicky* *follows links to original lonelygirl15 stuff and watches from Season 1* ............ OH MY GOD IT IS LIKE INTARWEB HEROIN. FOR RLZ.
I have just watched the first 100 and some episodes in a night. JUST HOOK IT INTO MY VEINS!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Nursing some reopened wounds.
I've spent a large part of the last month or so being mauled by my past. It's not a pleasant experience, I can tell you that. If I were feeling a bit more optimistic and hippie-social worker-flaky, I'd say it's been "a learning experience" or "a chance to develop myself more as a person." But as it is, I'll say it's been an exercise in torture and sleep deprivation.
The main issue has been that I have finally begun to see how my "childhood" (I use the term loosely) contributed to my current state of being completely fucked up. Being treated so abominably led me to honestly hate myself and have zero self-respect, and to behave accordingly.
Now, a lot of people like to talk shit about women who "have no self respect." They like to make it seem as though this state of being is a choice. And maybe for some it is. But for the rest of us, who came by this self-loathing naturally, being condescended to and looked down upon doesn't do any damned good. You will not "fix"' us by trying to shame us into changing. Saying to a person who is in a fragile emotional state and making bad decisions as a result, "you just need to learn some self respect" in the same self-righteous tone you would use when telling your deadbeat brother-in-law that he "just needs to try harder to find a job" does much more harm than good. Now we're damaged from whatever robbed us of our self respect in the first place, probably blaming ourselves for that event, and on top of all of that you've made us feel guilty for not just pulling up our socks and figuring it all out already. Thanks, dickweeds.
It felt really good to get that out of my system. :D
But for all my "I shouldn't be made to feel guilty, it's not all my fault" rhetoric, I DO blame myself. Not so much for being abused and mistreated in the first place-though there's still a bit of residual guilt there. No, the worst of it is feeling guilty for having behaved the way I have for the past number of years. I have made some truly awful decisions in my life. Never mind that I'm starting to realize that I honestly don't know any other way to behave, and I'm trying to learn proper conduct from scratch in a lot of areas. I still feel like I should have figured it out on my own, and that I'm weak and stupid for finally "giving in" and starting treatment with antidepressants and therapy.
I can't sleep. I can't eat properly. Sure, I cram some food in my face once in a while, but it only occasionally stays down. And as a result, my diabetes is way the fuck out of control. I'm off work for at least a month on doctor's orders. And the thought of even walking into the building to deliver the doctor's note and arrange for sick leave benefits sends me into the kind of panic attack that leaves me locked in the bathroom, clutching my chest and crying, hoping that it's not actually a heart attack this time and trying not to let my family see how much of a mess Mommy is. Even now, my other half is peacefully sleeping under the impression that the reason I can't sleep is that I had a nap while he was at work and threw off my schedule. I'm lying better every day. And I don't like that. I've lied too much because of exactly the stuff that's killing me right now. To my teachers ("I walked into a wall"), social workers ("Like I told the teacher, I walked into a wall. I'm so clumsy."), doctors ("I just don't have much of an appetite lately. Mom's not taking away my food."), and even the police ("Oh, no, what the neighbors heard was me fighting with my sister. You know how kids are. Certainly not Mom kicking the fuck out of me for the twelfth time this week. That's crazy talk."). About a year ago, I stopped being able to pretend to be fine. As a result, I'm known to most people as "the crazy one." And in the last few weeks I've stopped being able to pretend to enjoy that reputation. I'm just exhausted and I want it to stop.
The main issue has been that I have finally begun to see how my "childhood" (I use the term loosely) contributed to my current state of being completely fucked up. Being treated so abominably led me to honestly hate myself and have zero self-respect, and to behave accordingly.
Now, a lot of people like to talk shit about women who "have no self respect." They like to make it seem as though this state of being is a choice. And maybe for some it is. But for the rest of us, who came by this self-loathing naturally, being condescended to and looked down upon doesn't do any damned good. You will not "fix"' us by trying to shame us into changing. Saying to a person who is in a fragile emotional state and making bad decisions as a result, "you just need to learn some self respect" in the same self-righteous tone you would use when telling your deadbeat brother-in-law that he "just needs to try harder to find a job" does much more harm than good. Now we're damaged from whatever robbed us of our self respect in the first place, probably blaming ourselves for that event, and on top of all of that you've made us feel guilty for not just pulling up our socks and figuring it all out already. Thanks, dickweeds.
It felt really good to get that out of my system. :D
But for all my "I shouldn't be made to feel guilty, it's not all my fault" rhetoric, I DO blame myself. Not so much for being abused and mistreated in the first place-though there's still a bit of residual guilt there. No, the worst of it is feeling guilty for having behaved the way I have for the past number of years. I have made some truly awful decisions in my life. Never mind that I'm starting to realize that I honestly don't know any other way to behave, and I'm trying to learn proper conduct from scratch in a lot of areas. I still feel like I should have figured it out on my own, and that I'm weak and stupid for finally "giving in" and starting treatment with antidepressants and therapy.
I can't sleep. I can't eat properly. Sure, I cram some food in my face once in a while, but it only occasionally stays down. And as a result, my diabetes is way the fuck out of control. I'm off work for at least a month on doctor's orders. And the thought of even walking into the building to deliver the doctor's note and arrange for sick leave benefits sends me into the kind of panic attack that leaves me locked in the bathroom, clutching my chest and crying, hoping that it's not actually a heart attack this time and trying not to let my family see how much of a mess Mommy is. Even now, my other half is peacefully sleeping under the impression that the reason I can't sleep is that I had a nap while he was at work and threw off my schedule. I'm lying better every day. And I don't like that. I've lied too much because of exactly the stuff that's killing me right now. To my teachers ("I walked into a wall"), social workers ("Like I told the teacher, I walked into a wall. I'm so clumsy."), doctors ("I just don't have much of an appetite lately. Mom's not taking away my food."), and even the police ("Oh, no, what the neighbors heard was me fighting with my sister. You know how kids are. Certainly not Mom kicking the fuck out of me for the twelfth time this week. That's crazy talk."). About a year ago, I stopped being able to pretend to be fine. As a result, I'm known to most people as "the crazy one." And in the last few weeks I've stopped being able to pretend to enjoy that reputation. I'm just exhausted and I want it to stop.
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