I hate myself. Why can’t I just be happy? And STAY happy!?
I hate when I have good days. They only delay the inevitable – my bad ones. They aren’t even full days, really; more like fleeting periods of imitation normalcy before something happens (or doesn’t happen) to ruin it all and send me right back into my usual pit of anxiety/depression. I hate having that taste, that teaser of what could be, what should be.
The universe must have me as number one on its hit list or something.
And it’s not like school helps, either. As a sophomore, I know I probably don’t even have the right to complain yet, but it’s still one of the main sources of stress for me right now. I have a few Honors classes and the rest are the default CP, but the school I go to is pretty preppy so the workload is pretty harsh. It doesn’t help at all that I’m a bit of a slow worker, especially in algebra (I recently just got dropped from CP level to regular class since I can’t keep up, and my teachers aren’t that understanding. I have a near CONSTANT mountain of homework, which takes up any amount of free time to myself, and no quiet place to do it. I live in group home (DSS custody) so I have ZERO privacy, personal space, silence, or alone time – all of which I need desperately. Add that to the fact that I have severe ADD, general and social anxiety, and clinical depression (along with PTSD), and every day is hell.
I feel like an idiot in school. I can hardly get anything turned in on time because of how slowly I work – especially since time is distorted for me – and I can’t help but scold myself for every little mistake I make or every minute an assignment is overdue. I used to be so smart – Honor roll, awards, I even skipped first grade! – but now it’s like: what happened? I broke down when I found out they lowered my class level in algebra.
And I hate that things like this can upset me so easily. It bothers me, how sensitive I am, especially when people know me as the ‘chill’ one. I hate feeling like part of my windpipe is crushed every second of every day. I hate the constant anxiety and sadness, how it all whirlwinds and then goes back to dull numbness. I have almost no support, and the therapist for this place is absolutely no help at all (and I’m not just saying that because it’s therapy-I’ve had decent therapists before, and this one is not it). And the amount of stress in my life is unbearable. I’ve lost track of how many panic and anxiety attacks I’ve had since school started, and the countless nights I’ve spent hunched over my desk, struggling to finish an assignment due the next day – only to end up with a quarter of progress, and hour’s sleep, and the rumpled, sweat-drenched clothes I fell asleep in from the day before.
It’s especially confusing when the staff and workers tell me to take it easy and stop being so hard on myself, only to scold me for laziness when I finally do take a break and try to relax for an hour.
I’m exhausted. I’m stressed. I’m scared. But most of all, I’m disappointed. I thought I was doing better. I thought that I was on my way to getting things under control and beginning the road to recovery. Then I moved to this place, lost the only therapist that I actually liked, and had to start all over for the millionth time. Even then, I tried my best to regroup and be resilient. But I guess I’m really not as strong as everyone says or thinks I am. I sure don’t feel like it.
I failed. I’m behind in work ’cause I’m too slow to keep up, I’m too dumb for algebra, I’m too weak to handle a little stress (which is nothing compared to some of the shit other people go through). The thoughts are coming back. So are the voices. I’ve started cutting again (trying to justify it with the fact that they’re tiny so they “don’t count”). I absolutely despise myself for it, but I’ve tried to use my “coping skills” (I hate that term) and it’s like nothing works anymore.
Sorry for my rambling.