Last night I utterly failed to sleep until way after my parents had left for work. Lots of smoking and lots of Valium didn’t even help. I’m going to try again tonight though in the hope of greater success. To be honest, I think I’ll be less successful.
Sometimes people really hurt you. I got really hurt today. All I wanted was for someone to care for me, but that isn’t what I got. Instead, I was told repeatedly that I’m not worth talking to unless I do what I’m told, when I’m told. I’m told that because I didn’t answer the phone yesterday, that I’m not worth talking to (as you’re aware, yesterday was mad busy for me. I wasn’t by my phone at the time of the call, but I did text and ring back and apologise. Not good enough though). I’m told that if I don’t let a boy stay the night, it helps add to the fact that I’m not worth caring about (due to a lot of stresses, I’ve been trying to keep myself as stable as possible by removing potential triggers for destructive behaviours for a whole week. And yes it has only been a week). This all added up to it not being worth caring about how my appointments went yesterday.
I ended up completely breaking down. The Brother got really angry and called the person back to tell them that it’s not ok to treat me like this as I’m not in a healthy enough position to deal with it and sometimes, I need a little compassion. He doesn’t always want to try to keep me safe when I’m hurting. This inevitably led to further arguments, being made to feel that being upset means that then person should give up on trying to be nice to anyone and that they may never talk to me again. The Brother wants to fuck him up.
I ended up breaking down further. I thrashed at myself and cried and bit myself then just curled up in a ball and rolled a cigarette. I made a promise to myself that if I still wanted to die after that cigarette, I’d die. I felt like my insides are made of dirt and that I get everything wrong even though I try to do the right thing and that I’m toxic and poison the people around me into hating themselves and giving up on life. I really do try to do the right thing. It’s hard to know what the right thing to do is sometimes. All I am is dirt on the inside.
I finished my cigarette and called one of my top five people. I still intended to die, but I needed someone to hear my insides scream and try to understand. He was at my house within minutes. I sat with my head in his lap and told him I’m dirt and nothing and toxic. I wasn’t making much sense at this point, but he listened. He then helped to calm me down. We stumbled animals online for a little bit and then I was more about to talk to him about what was happening and how I felt because I’d calmed. We laid in bed and hugged and talked about silly things and he reassured me and I felt a lot more cared for. It was nice because he kinda proved that some people think I’m worth caring for. He doesn’t really understand some of my reasonings behind my actions and feelings, but he listened and didn’t make me feel like he just thought I was being stupid. He was just nice. Sometimes a person can help restore a little faith in the world just by being nice. I have all the thanks and all the love. He dropped his plans to help me and in the process, he really did. Today, I might love him and the Brother most of all people in the world.
I still feel like shit and I’m not sure I can cope with it, but I’ve got some vodka and too much Valium and lots to smoke and I’m hoping that’ll be enough to see me through till morning. If not, I hope I can at least stay on top of things enough to remember I can always call the crisis team or get the Brother to help me. I want to get through till I can call the Psychologist without winding up cutting myself or worse.
I’m really sad and I’m really angry. I’m angry at how I’m being treated. I hate being made to feel worthless. I hate being made to feel so fucking objectified. I hate that I can literally ask someone to just tell me they care about me and they can’t even do it. This makes me so fucking angry it’s ridiculous. Angry at myself for letting someone hurt me like that. Angry at myself for caring. Angry that anyone thinks that’s an ok way to treat people.
I’m sad because I am worthless. I am only an object. I’m not worth caring about. I’m sad that this is all I deserve. I’m sad that I can never get anything right. I’m sad because I might lose someone and I can’t let that happen.
I don’t know how to fix this right now. I don’t know what I can do to make them care about me. I don’t know how to make anyone care about me. I know that in the long run, I’ll give them everything I have, regardless of if I want to or not because I need them to stay more than anything else. People only stay if you give up your needs or put yourself in hospital. It’s either making yourself into the person they like, or risking your life. Right now, I feel so fucking lost and so fucking empty that either of those options makes sense right now. I just have to get to 9am though. 7 hours.
What makes it worse is that he’s deciding whether he wants to know me anymore. I’m just in limbo. I can’t be perfect for him if I’m in limbo – I can only be perfect if he sees. I can only put my needs on hold if he’s there to let me and he might never be again.
I was having a reasonably nice day as well (well more like afternoon). Me and the Ma went shopping and I got false eyelashes and silly Halloween things and a boom check flannel pj shirt. I joked around with the Fam for a while and walked my puppy. I was feeling positive and it was all just shattered in one phone call. The world is fucking falling apart. I fucking hate everyone sometimes. Most people just fuck you up and it’s not worth it. I just want to hide. Except I can’t if I’m going to prove how fucking irresistible and brilliant and worthy I am. I have to put on that person and fix everything I broke.
I don’t see sleep happening any time soon…