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Love is...

Monday, 02 March 2009 at 01:34

Romantic relationships.
I was in love once. Actually, I was absolutely besotted.
I can't think of a single word to describe it. Absolute, and complete, he was my absolute fucking world kind of love. I loved him for the best part of three years. Three and a half years.


Deep down I know I always will love him. In a way that he was the first person I ever loved, I gave him my absolute everything and I gave him the power to make me into nothing.
I trusted him not to.
He did.


I found one of those letters earlier, that you don't intend to send. I found pages and pages of 'I miss....' about him. I wrote that a year after we broke up, and I smiled a lot when I read it.
I'll never, ever forget those things.
However, I was completely unaware, until this very day, that being with someone else, may enable me to find new things, different things that I like about that relationship. I thought nothing would ever be able to compare to the things I wrote about that I missed. I thought no relationship would ever begin to match up to it. I could never see myself feeling the same way about anyone ever again.
and I was completely right.


I was, however, unable to comprehend the idea that maybe I might find a relationship that was a different kind of good. I would find a love for someone, that was a different kind of love. I would find areas of a relationship, times with a different person, equally as amazing, and they would make me feel equally as warm inside, but they will be different. I don't want a relationship to ever be like that one, like I thought I did. Because no relationship will be like that one.


But it will be a different kind of good. No less. Just different.


I'm finding it really hard to explain what I'm trying to say so I just hope there's someone out there bothering to read this, who understands and has been through the same kind of thing.
Someone who once meant a hell of a lot to me, and always always will, once told me that this would happen. He told me I'd find someone who I would, not love more, but I would love just as much. And he told me I would have what I once had again, but in a different, maybe even better way.
He said "Ask anyone, your first love won't be your best love."


It matters no more that I will never have what I had. Because now I'm able to put a lid on that and say it's not coming back. And say, that I don't want it to.


What I have is the ability to say I got through it. I had my heart completely torn out of my chest and ripped to pieces before my very eyes.


So what I have is strength.
What I have, is an amazing girl who has shown me that a different kind of wonderful exists.

Friendships.
Anyone who knows me knows that this isn't the *BEST* front at the moment. There are a lot of people who turned out not to be very good friends at all.


However, remaining unaffected, is my best friend.


This girl is the air that I breathe. I honestly can say that I do not know what I would do without her. I'd be in a much worse state than I am now.


We have had a lot of fantastic times together and there are many more to come. We have fourteen million inside jokes, and I know that no matter how decreasing the amount of time we are able to spend together is, my feelings for her have not and will not change in the slightest.


Family.
I have the strangest family, I think, in the whole world. We're like the Adams family.


I don't think there are many others like us.


We get along, and we do things together. We have so many similarities and like the same things, generally, which is good for when we go on holidays or are just doing bugger all together at home. If you were faced with a million different families and had the time to look through them all and put me with one, this would be the one you would know I belonged with.


I don't think I show them much how appreciated they are. But I do love them so very much, and without each of them there is obviously not a chance I would have made it this far.


They are absolutely awesome, and I wouldn't rather have anyone else as my family because they are my best friends too.*

The world.
Anyone that knows me will know of my absolute adoration for the world that surrounds me. I never, ever fail to find it absolutely fascinating. I firmly believe that they day that I walk outside and aren't taken aback by the beauty that surrounds me, this is the day that I completely do lose the will to live. I can't even express how amazing it is, and how much I love absolutely everything about it. I love the sky, the clouds, the grass, the flowers, water, the beautiful beautiful landscapes and I love us. I love people. I love everything we have created and I don't think we are credited enough for our intelligence. Our capability to create such amazing things.

Life.
I love life. Honestly, I do. No matter how much it seems like I don't. No matter how much I joke about not. I do. I think it's amazing and the whole concept of it is too much to even begin to comprehend. It never fails to amaze me. And I love it so very much, even when it's completely shit.**

Unexplainable.
(Refer to the title of the note)
I love love. It's fascinating how we, as such complicated organisms who are out, primarily, for our own survival and the survival of our species, are equipped with such a thing which has the capability to cause so much disruption. Because there is no hate without love. There is no life without love, because it would be empty and we wouldn't have the motivation to do anything, or be with anyone, to carry on our species. I think the point I'm trying to make here is that love is all around us all the time, and even if it's for material objects rather than people, it has the capability to exist within us all and that can do us all so much good.
Because even though it gives us the capability to completely destroy ourselves and others, it also gives us the capability to do the absolute opposite.
And even with the destruction..


I think it's worth it.

Hahaha.. so, looking back on that.
*Funny isn't it, how things change? I wonder if there is actually the perfect family out there. People always seem like they have this television, 'cereal packet' family but then no one ever does. I wonder if there is such thing as a genuinely happy family? When I wrote this my views were so clouded. Things were in my subconscious, repressed, and not yet set free. Not like now. They say repression is bad, I kinda miss it.
Well, I don't really. At least I know now why I'm depressed and why I am the way I am. Back then I hadn't the faintest, and that's why I was unable to recover. At least now I'm on the road to recovery.

** Haha. :P well, what can I say about that. Life is complex, scientifically, it's amazing. It's a gift, though sometimes we might wish we'd kept the recipt.

"Nature, in her most dazzling aspects or stupendous parts is but the background and theatre of the tragedy of man."

Laughing so hard it hurts like hell.

You can click on the image to view it full size.
I told myself I wasn't going to post any photos of myself on here, but I decided this one was worth it. This was from someone very important to me at a very hard time, a long time ago and I've just found it on my old myspace account while browsing through (and getting very upset and nostalgic).

Here's to real strength, friends.

The weight of the world.

I've really not had a very good week or so, my therapist has gone away for like a month, and I can't quite work out why. I feel really, really lost. Alone when I'm surrounded by people. I guess it feels like my life's been thrown into turmoil again: you know when it just feels like everything is getting on top of you, you've got so much to do and remember and it feels like you've got concrete blocks strapped to your back?
You give, and you give, and give and you get nothing in return?
That's how I've been feeling. I don't know, I guess I'm fed up of living like a robot. The idea that life's just the same crap, over and over.
The thought that I could potentially have a further 70 years of this, is quite frankly, unbearable at the best of times.
The people I work with are often in their 90s. A lot of them depressed, confused, unhappy. Stories to tell, nevertheless. But I don't want that. I don't know what I want out of life any more, but I know that I don't want to live just to end up with another story to tell. Because what will I get out of that? I'll just die, and that'll be it. Waste of time.

I had a bit of a funny episode the other day, got really tearful and nervous. Anxious, paranoid. It was horrible. I got home and then wouldn't leave my house. I think it's possible I could be addicted to prescription medication.

I just feel really, really lost. Since making the (very hard) decision not to go to Uni this year, feeling liberated, I didn't realise there were more stupid decisions to come. Do I apply for a steady, predictable job? Or do I stay on bank here? See I don't know if I'm gonna keep getting the amount of shifts I get now because of the number of residents and I guess I need a steady wage. I like it there, don't get me wrong - it's what I'm used to now, and we all know I like what I'm used to. But I like flexibility and no commitments. That's what I need.

I don't know - I wanted some money for Uni, but I wanted to have a good time at the same time.
Seems I can't do both.
Mum's gonna want board, too. I just don't know what to do with myself now. Especially while I'm supposed to be recovering.
Is this all life is?...

I've finally finished college completely, got my three distinctions...top grades..yesterday was supposed to be great. Got my grades, gay pride with people that I genuinely like.. then I was supposed to go out but I didn't because I ended up feeling like a pile of shite. What is with that?! Oh yeah, it's called depression. Why, when I'm surrounded by positive things, supposed to be having a good day, am I just not? It's confusing and it hurts my head a little bit. I hate this. I hate that I keep crying. I hate that I feel like things are putting a halt to my recovery. I hate that I don't know what I want any more, I don't feel like I have a place where I belong. I don't feel happy in any area of my life. Work, friends, family. It's all a pile of shit.

My mum's new boyfriend, actually, seems really nice. He's friendly, welcoming, sociable - so what's wrong with him? There must be something, you can't just break a chain of unhappiness and abuse, just like that. I refuse to believe he is as perfect as he seems.

"They've taken away everything I had. Everyone I cared about. Everything I was. But that's how I'm going to win." Hmmmm.... not feeling so inspirational today. Sorry, guys.

Diving deeper into the subconscious.

"Your past will always be beside you. You just have to choose between letting it walk beside you, or dragging it behind you like a big black sack with a noose around your neck."

I saw my therapist yesterday. It's only our third session or something, but I've gone private after the failings of the quote care unquote of the NHS for so long. I really like her, actually. She's the best one I've had so far, the only one that's got me to speak about anything. The only one that's got me to think deeper about myself and the way I react to situations today, and the way I will for the rest of my life.

This might get a little bit complex, actually, as I'll be trying to understand myself as I go on writing.
I've realised there are certain triggers to my depression, and to when I hurt myself. I think these are when I feel controlled, when I feel ultra vulnerable, and when I feel like a bad person.
I think all of those three things can be paired with my childhood experiences. The control and the vulnerability, are obvious. But why when I feel like a bad person? Perhaps subconsciously for a long time before everything came out, I felt like I was a bad person because I didn't stop it. Because I felt I had betrayed my mother. I was just a child - I thought I could have stopped it, I should have.
But I couldn't. I was, like I say, just a child. A vulnerable little girl abused by someone who she is supposed to be able to trust. I was too young to take control then, to REALLY know the difference between right and wrong... you get the picture. I think part of that is still there, though, in my subconscious... because throughout my teenage years I have cut myself or felt the strong urge to cut myself whenever I feel like I'm a bad person. Perhaps that's why, because that's what I did back then. That was my coping mechanism. And sometimes, it still is.

I feel a certain amount of shame to admit that still sometimes I cut myself. There are scars and cuts on my right thigh. And they are from each time I have felt any of the above 'triggers' because I didn't know how to deal with them. It's something only someone who has cut themselves before can really understand. Even just that second of relief that you feel as you slide the blade through your skin. Once you've done it, it's there, with you for life. Not just the physical scar, but the emotional scars too. With each scar on my thigh represents an emotional scar because now I will have to learn to walk with those at the side of me, and get rid of the noose around my neck. I think now I am figuring out about these coping mechanisms I have used, maybe I can develop new ones and stop myself from cutting in the future.

What has happened to me is going to be with me for the rest of my life. Things are going to happen that are going to bring up memories, make me feel vulnerable, controlled, or a bad person. Because let's face it, everyone makes mistakes. Maybe now that I recognise my coping mechanisms and why I 'lose it' under certain situations, I can develop new ways of dealing with the emotions that I will be feeling. Cut the noose from around my neck, and take a deep, sigh of relief.

Still Surviving

Posted on May 15, 2010 at 21:50:54 PM
Here I am again with another post, though I'm unsure why I felt the need to come on here and I'm unsure what I'm going to even say. Just a bit of an update, really. I think I'm seeking some kind and understanding words, perhaps other perspectives, reassurance, support, and well really I want someone to be proud of me and how much I have actually achieved.
Since I last logged on here I have broken down and picked myself up again so many times, in only a matter of months. I feel somehow pity and empathy towards my father and my loyalties feel split. My parents are making me feel like the middle man by asking what each other say all of the time. My father has broken down because my mother doesn't want him back and why would she? My family has fallen apart completely.

Four months on, my mother has found a new man. This bothers me. I convinced myself at first that I was only bothered because I found out through facebook. But I think it's deeper than that. I think psychologically I have some kind of man hate - every man that has ever been involved in our family has been some kind of abuser. The last three generations on my mother's side have been abused by men in a position of trust. She says she's never going to trust a man again, and here she is - floating around with another. Bringing another man into my life, or trying to, and the thing is I think I don't trust men. I don't trust men in her life. I don't trust men to have some kind of power or authority over me.
I am once again being referred to a new therapist. I think this is for the better, though - because at least I don't have to go back to the mental health team that referred me to social services and messed up my whole life, betrayed my trust, didn't give a damn about me and then walked right back out of my life. I don't know if a therapist will ever be able to successfully help me though because I think there's a part of me that won't let them.
You know sometimes though I don't like to admit it, I think I am guilty of making myself unhappy because that's where I feel comfortable and secure. As soon as I feel something or think something remotely happy, my brain somehow manages to put a downer on it and make me feel like crap again.

I'm on a bit of an up tonight, though. I'm progressing a lot with my college work and though no one there can understand (though I wish they could) I don't think many other people would have stuck to college and still done well under my circumstances. And I am so, so proud of that. It's like, F you, life, I'm taking the wheel now! (but then I think about the rest of my life and my unresolved university issues, friendship issues, oh and there's my messed up family too.) I hate myself for doing that, you know.
There's been a lot of self analysis, lately. I think I'm guilty of hiding behind humour and sarcasm, because I appear to be so happy and never take anything seriously and then this is what I am underneath. I am actually such a wreck I can't even find words for it. There just isn't enough time to explain how complex I am, or how complex everything I have been through is..
And you know - I've realised. I said when the abuse all came out, that it was okay because I've had six plus years to deal with it. But actually that's not true at all. I've had six months. Because before, it was pushed into my subconscious. Now, it's real. It really did happen. My father really did do that to me. I've made such a lot of progress in the sense that I can actually say the words now. But I told my mother the other day in fury about my self harm and that I wanted to kill myself. She went completely psycho on me and broke things and went for me. She was screaming at me and she told me everything that she is, is because of me.

We sorted it out in the end but I do think she meant what she said. I think subconsciously she blames me. I left that night to my father's house of all places, but he took me home and helped me resolve it. It's weird that he's the cause of all of this and yet... oh, I don't know. I just don't. I don't even understand it, the whole situation is so stupid and it's such a complete and utter mess. I don't know what to do with it.
I do not know what to do about university. A big part of me thinks, just go this year! Get away from here! But I don't know if I could handle the pressure of the work, and the finances right now.
D: haha I feel like such an idiot...

-----------------

Since this post I have decided I am going to take time out and go to University next year. I've finished college, I have good grades, and now it's time for me to take some time off for myself. Time to work, do voluntary work, relax a little bit and help myself along the recovery process. Because before I can help anyone else, I have to help myself. And I will.

I have very recently accepted some wonderful advice from a wonderfully strong and inspirational woman. "You take hold of that wheel, and you drive like crazy!"

The start of my long story, in more depth.

This was posted by me on a forum on February 07, 2010 at 15:18:21 PM.
I have progressed very much since I wrote this, and a lot of the emotion was still very raw. It describes in detail what has happened to me so please read this with caution.


I don't really know how to start this. Recently, I have finally let out about the sexual abuse I received from my step father between the ages of around nine and fifteen. I didn't mean to.. I have been suffering from depression, I have had several counsellors, and I never told any of them. Finally, I decided it might help, and I told a mental health nurse I was seeing at the time. She told social services, which I didn't expect, as I have two younger siblings.

I had to wait two months for them to do anything. If they thought it was that serious, they would have been straight over. I love my family a lot and the last thing I wanted was to tear them apart. Things have been really great with my dad lately (step-dad, but I refer to him as my dad) and we get along really so well. Now he has had to move out.

I was lied to directly by social services when they told me the police would not be informed, I was lied to when they said they would not let my brother or sister know it was anything to do with me, and I felt I was pressured and manipulated by them. My sister came home from school, the day they went to see her, and told me I had made her miss her lunch because I had said someone had been touching me inappropriately. She asked my why I had said that. She is nine years old, and as I suspected, it was found she was at no risk.
Now my mother is devastated. She was sexually abused by her father, and raped on her eighteenth birthday. I am so worried about her, she will never trust anyone again and I don't blame her. She is the most important person in my life and I care about her so dearly.
I think it is still normal to love and care about my dad. I do, because things have been fine the last few years and I just feel he has lost so much because of this, be it his fault or not..

At first, he said he did not remember what he was doing. He said he was going through a bad period in his life, where he was drinking a lot, having seizures, and generally suffering from depression. I believed him at first, whether rightly or wrongly I didn't care... I figured, it wouldn't hurt me to believe that since no one else is at risk now. Though now, I'm not so sure. How can you not remember doing that? Okay, maybe if it was only once or twice. But not a number of times. Not the morning after asking if I had any nice dreams the previous night.

Not trying to get me to show him my breasts for a £5 note. Not rubbing my hand up and down his penis. Not touching me at night, and rubbing himself against me.

Not the latest time..when I was fifteen, and I had my first proper boyfriend..and he tried to touch my breast.
Since then, there's been nothing. There have of course been times where I have felt uncomfortable, and I really just wanted to know why. All of those inevitable what if questions..about my mum, and my sister..and is it because I look like my mum, and always was a well formed teenager, viewed as a young woman? Just...wanted to know the thought processes. Was he abused himself? Why did he do this to me? Why did he do this to my mum, after everything she's been through?
When he was doing what he did to me, and times when it has been mentioned on the TV or something since, I have got a particular vibe off him. I don't know what, but like he just wasn't himself. It's weird, I'm just so confused and so desperate for answers to which I don't really even know what the questions are.
I wish more than anything that I could just hate him. I don't know what to do.