Nothing is ever, ever good enough

People DO NOT understand social anxiety disorder, or manic depressives and they sure as hell do not even know what a Borderline Personality Disorder does!

I am so sick and tired of it.

Sick and Tired, of course, being two words I use a lot. BECAUSE that is how I feel a lot. I feel sick, physically ill. I had gastric bypass surgery since I was too fat, so okay, then they took out my gall bladder because didn't you know when you have bypass surgery, you get gall stones... no I didn't. Now, because I have a smaller stomach, shortened intestines and no gall bladder, my liver makes too much gall, this gets dumped into my intestines, and can I tell you something, my bloody colon hates my guts - pun intended.

I've lost an entire 100 kilograms, that's a whole other overweight person right there, but my knees have taken a knock, and the cartilidge is "broken" in a medical term I can't even pronounce. I have excess skin, but hey, at least I'm not fat.

I'm tired a lot too, because when you are manic depressive energy is the last thing you have. I can't wait to get home, take my medication, and go to bed. I'm also an insomniac, amazingly, so I don't sleep without the aid of a lovely drug called Zolpidem. It's my ticket to an oblivion of nothing, and I don't have to worry about anything. I still wake up tired though, always one step from exhaustion.

Food was my crutch all my life. It was my wall of protection against the world, and the fat was the prison I built, the cage to keep the hurt out. I've lost food and my cage, and now I'm left with Social Anxiety, because just like when I was fat, I still can't function in society.

Try to find a boss that understands this? That understands your need to just hide sometimes, that believes me when I say "I am sick"...

Good luck. There is no such thing.

my age

i do not know how to act my age, because i have never been this age before... i have never known how to act my age. i suppose i just did things because they seemed what they seemed at the time, and considering that, maybe i should have tried to act my age a few times... ;)

making dolls...

If I were ever to take up a hobby, making dolls would be it.

I have nor the talent neither the money, but dude, I would love creating them.

Imagine it? You have a veritable infinity of choices when you have a paintbrush in your hand! You can sculpt and paint a blank piece of nothing into the most amazing creation you can think of...

come to think of it now... I wonder if that's how God felt when he wove our DNA together to make us, when he gave me brown eyes and brown hair, and my grandmother's little moll on my wrist. Inside of this tiny egg he put down the blueprint of me, and...

isn't that amazing?

black

miasma
like pea soup
it fills me
up from my toes
top of my head

it's all just black
like a black hole
sucking me in
pulling me down

all of it
is so black

there is no light
there is no glimmer
i do not see sparkles
i do not see light

i pray
but i always do
i pray

This is just for me

How do you just forget something that changed your entire personality? Forgiving is one thing, and I truly did forgive, but forgetting it? How do you just wipe it from your memory and get on with life?

She did it to me because it was done to her and I am just supposed to accept that? I'm just supposed to go ahead with being fine with it and just soldiering on! For the life of me I can not imagine how I can forget verbal, sexual and social abuse just like that. She made me believe I was something special, and then told me I wasn't. I have no lesbian tendencies and yet she made me believe that I did, she warped my young mind around it so completely that I thought for years, I would never marry, never have kids, who would want me? I'm pathetic and awful and sinful.

Now she wants us to talk about it, get over the problem, I need to see her side of it. She preyed on me because I was weaker and easier to manipulate. How do you justify that? What possible excuse do you have for making my life hell! For twisting it all around, forcing me to wear a mask to hide the sinfulness of this other life. Even years after it ended, after I was married and had my first little boy, even then I couldn't think about it without feeling dirty and base.

I just wanted, want still, to be a bit more normal. To have had a normal childhood, not the a-social one I had, where I hid from everyone and was afraid to even walk into a store alone, much less answer a phone. I still suffer from this.

Social anxiety disorder. Manic depression. Borderline Personality disorder.

Dudes! I have one friend. One. One single friend who understands me, because for a very long time, she was me.

I wished I was dead for such a long, long time. If only to get rid of the memories twisting my belly in knots every time I just think about it. Thought I was over it for a bit, but it seems not.

This blog is just for me. I just need to write about it.

Sometimes I just need to scream!

Depressie

Woorde het ek nie veel van nie

My hart is ook half en leeg

My kop rol en bons rond soos

Gaf in die wind

Ek is moeg

Hartseer en verlate

Hoe doen mens dit?

Hoe kry ander dit reg?

Hoekom is die lewe so

Anders.

Soms staan ek op en gaan aan

Want ek moet

Soms bly ek le en huil

Want ek kan.

Tog is daar altyd liefde

In my hart vir my mense

Liefde van my mense dra my

Hou my regop.

Here waarheen gaan ek nou...

Grace is all we have

All we are made of is grace

If not for it I would not be here today

I’m a testament to my own prison

Which I have built stone 

by stone by

Stone

Up around the walls tower

And I look up at the darkness

Overwhelmed, scared, afraid

I’m afraid

I’m alone

Responsibilities choke me

Obligations chain me down

Salvation

Please give me salvation