False praise kills. Â I am told often that I am talented blah, blah blah. Â I can’t believe this. Â To do so would be arrogant. Â My inner circle does tell the truth. Â Significant other does not touch me because I am too fat for his liking. Â I was a size 00 when we met. Â I now wear a 2. Â He says he can only love me if I am thin and blonde. Â He says I am stupid. Â I’m in a doctoral program because at one time I wanted to prove to him that I was not as stupid as he says I am. Â Â There are continual reminders that I should be grateful that he is with “some like me”. Â Damaged goods. Â At 14 there was an attack by several high school boys from outstanding families. Â Pressing charges would have ruined their lives. Â Snide comments in the hall that I liked it rough, double time, and triple time. Â The guys from the good families were not to be touched. Â Accusations of bullying might result in them not being able to play sports. Â Ruin their futures. Â My own family told me that I was damaged and my opportunities for relationships with those from good families were gone. Â And so began the long string of abuse relationships. Â I don’t deserve to be loved or accept praise for going through the motions of a life. Â And so I mask the pain and overachieve in an attempt to be a little more than the most disgusting person that ever lived.
I’ve struggled with major depression for several years. The time between feeling some level of normal and giving anything for death to free me from this is getting shorter and shorter. In November, I argued with my shrink and therapist that this is my life, and to not allow me from release from the pain was unethical. After when animals suffer, they are put down. No one else knows how depressed I really am. I mask it very well- I go through the motions of a life while feeling nothing but wanting to be dead. If this is going to be the rest of my life, do I want the rest of my life? The stupidest thing I hear is that people envy me wishing they had my life. Really would they envy me if they knew the truth? That I feel nothing, that I am so worthless that I don’t deserve to breathe?
Yesterday I felt normal for me. I spent time with my little nephew. He has autism and cannot talk, but we have this bond. When he sees me, I get the biggest hugs. He loves me for me. No judgements. Unconditional love. Would he be able to understand if I were no longer alive? I don’t understand how he can love me, when I cannot love myself.
I have to go. Time to go through the motions of a life. School work. Sleep. Wake up. Make a silent vow- for the next 24 one hour blocks I will not hurt myself. Don’t let anyone know how much pain I am in. Pray for the my antidepressants to work. Breathe.