…. I tear my heart open, just to feel.
Oh but I have felt so much lately. Felt so much I haven’t even been blogging. Felt so much I re taught myself how not to feel… because I didn’t want to.
I have pretty much cut off the world from the me that is right now. Sure I go to the forum, sure I email, sure I speak. But no one knows what I have been feeling lately, no one.
Not even my therapist, who for weeks I was avoiding speaking truths, until I finally broke and discovered that pretending to be strong doesn’t always equal being strong.
I wanted to be strong, I wanted this world, and everything thats in it right now, not to touch me. I wanted to be this big strong rock of a person, I wanted to be mature, to be strong, to be everything that I wish for myself to be.
In doing so, I have been letting go of myself piece by piece.
I told myself I didn’t need support, I was wrong.
I need it.
Even if I just write, even if I just speak, even if I just something.
Because this not letting these things out is killing me, slowly, but its killing me.
I thought that allowing myself to feel, allowing myself to be emotional was the same as allowing myself to be fucked up, to be crazy, to be mentally ill.
I am NOT any of those things… I am just me. Sad little me, but me none the less. And keeping these things inside is what is making me crazy.
Life right now, is hell in a handbasket. Most days I wake up and wish I hadn’t. Some days I wish I could just go back to sleep, some days I wish I had never woken up at all. Some days I just wish I had never been born.
Oh yes, there are plenty of days I wish I had never been born. The way I figure it, it would have made EVERYONE else’s life easier, including mine. No one would have to deal with me, including myself.
I have tattoos on my wrists… tattoos that remind myself that life is short, but death is an eternity.
I am tempted to go get choose life… choose life Jessie, choose life.
And not for an unborn baby, for the baby that was born that is me.
I have a lot of things to be happy about. Especially right now, with my bdad… who I just call Dad. God do I love him, love him so much it scares the shit out of me. And you know what?? He loves me back, so it doesn’t need to scare me so much, but it still does.
Its been a long, long time, if ever really, that I have had safe touch from a man. And this man, my Dad, oh he loves to touch, almost as much as I do, shit he will even wrap his arms around me in the grocery store. He’s big enough to make me feel small, and that is quite a feat in and of itself. He does it though… he loves to watch musicals… we watched Chicago together snuggled in on the couch. Loves his salt water tank, we can spend hours just staring at it.
Most of all, he just loves me. I am not used to it, not at all. I don’t know as if I have ever been looked at the way he looks at me… the way he just looks in to my eyes with love. I feel it, just by a gaze, I can feel it. Its amazing.
So what the hell do I have to be so depressed about?
Oh just about every other shitty ass thing in my life. My job, it sucks… I got into trouble, and now my work environment is hellish. Its been hellish for a while, but its even more hellish now. I have decided that working with children, at least for me, at this moment, is akin to working in the seventh circle of hell. I can’t do it anymore, I just C A N T.
Unfortunately I don’t have much of a choice. I am looking for another job, but the job market isn’t exactly brimming with opportunities for an unskilled, uneducated young woman. I don’t have a college degree, and I don’t have any experience in anything except… children.
My brand new car, my brand spanking new beautiful baby blue jelly bean, has two major dents/scratches/slashes whatever. Things that despite my insurance, I can’t afford to fix. And because there are two of them, my insurance is throwing me two deductibles… that equals $1,000. Oh yeah, hang on let me just go out to my money tree… oh wait thats right, I don’t have one.
So my brand new car doesn’t look so brand new anymore. No, no it doesn’t. It looks like its been through a bit of a war. I want to cry just looking at it. Fixing it? I am going to try… I have 550.00 from the insurance company to cover $1,550 worth of damage… we shall see what ‘fixing’ it turns out to be. And I have to wonder, what the hell is so wrong with me? That I can’t just have something NICE for once in my life.
Oh yeah, and I can’t afford the damn thing, the car I mean. My adad was SOOO into me getting the thing, I will help you, I will help you. Thanks dad. My credit card is maxed, my rent is over due, my electric bill hasn’t been paid in months, the only reason I have internet/phone is because I only have one phone… and my sister also has a line on the same plan. My insurance is automatically deducted… and my car payment? Well I am just making that.
I am in so far over my head, without a life vest, I am drowning. I can’t even afford to see my therapist, I figured I am a big girl, I don’t need her. Yeah fucking right.
I don’t know what to do anymore, the depression that I have dealt with for years is creeping back on me. Yeah sure life with Dad is great, but life with Dad lasts for exactly two days out of the week. That and he lives over 80 miles away… 80 miles… gas = $3.00 a gallon? Oh yeah, cuz I can afford that.
And it breaks my heart when I have to leave, I hate it, because its like back to reality Jessie. Back to this life where everything sucks and you really wish you could just crawl in a hole until Friday reappears again.
I am staying with my asister at my amoms house for three weeks. That in and of itself is a bit of a trigger. And I love my sister, but being with anyone ALL the time is difficult for me, much less with her ALL the time. My sister, while not ‘retarded’ does have some special needs. She needs someone here, I am used to not having to answer to anyone. Its difficult for me, and she doesn’t understand the concept of a lot of things… like money. Like the fact that I have N O N E.
Its a little bit like having a full time babysitting job, without any of the bennies. Like my own bed to sleep in. I have to sleep in my amoms bed, in my amoms bedroom. The effect that sleeping in my Meemo’s bed has on me?? Exact opposite of that effect is the effect that sleeping in my amoms bed has on me. Bleck.
I have no one really IRL (in real life) to talk to. I have a buddy, A. I love him to death, and he is cool to hang around with. Cool to shoot the shit with, not so much when I feel like I am drowning in my own life.
My other friends? I really don’t have any. One who is very caught up in her own life, always has been. I see her maybe twice a year, and thats about it. The other… well the other is a relic of a best friend that I had in the days when being a borderline was the story of my life. I don’t even consider myself borderline anymore, don’t qualify for the diagnosis.
When a diagnosis is all you have in common with someone, and you loose that… you loose what you have in common.
My Meemo? I don’t like to burden her with the shit in my head. It scares me sometimes what she will think, react, say. I don’t ever know what her reaction is going to be to me. I never know, and I don’t like the unknown, so I avoid it. She doesn’t like emotional… got that. So I don’t do emotions… I am strong, I can shut them off!
Just not forever.
Hopefully just writing this helps… I have the forum. For any of you adoptees out there who aren’t on the forum, you must be. Its like a safe haven for us adoptees to talk about… well… being an adoptee. Click here for forum
I haven’t been sharing enough on there either. I need to start opening myself up again, for my own well being. After all, emotions aren’t bad, they just are. I deserve to feel whatever I need to feel. Right now I feel suffocated, suffocated by my own circumstances in my life right now.
I realized, that I am doing a lot of the suffocating to myself.