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*very long entry, and Grammar Nazis, beware!
I really don't know where to start.
I've kept my mouth and heart closed for so long, that my true feelings have stuck to the walls of my conscious. I think I started to sub-consciously suppress all unwanted emotions and memories that I feel psychologically numb.
During my 8th grade summer, there was this strange feeling of negativity that gnawed at the back of my mind. I did not lose anyone important during that time, so it was odd that I felt that way. I chose to ignore it at that time, seeing how i intended to have fun and surround myself with childish naivety. As I eased into my freshmen year in high school, that same feeling branched out into a touch of apathy and agitation. Unfortunately, those two emotions branched out again, adding on hopelessness and inappropriate guilt; I felt that every mistake I made, big or small, was the very thing that people would judge me by. My grades dropped dramatically, sending me into a great downward spiral.
Now, it does not just end there, but let me bring my parents into this complex array of unexplainable problems, which you may or may not find all that important. I sometimes find myself questioning the importance to what I feel, seeing how I am a teenager. But I digress. My mother is quite pleasant in general; she showers love to the point I find myself drowning in it. She is too self-less, too caring, and too much of a stereo-typical, loving mother. On the flipside, she is narrow minded, blunt, direct, and no accepting to any opinions that in contrast to hers. It may seem like I am contradicting myself, but what i say are true. I was a very open child back then, telling my mother what was wrong, but i slowly learned that telling her everything lead to nothing good. I attempted my first cut of two on my wrist at that time ( I don't know why I did. Curious maybe?). I felt oh so very guilty that i told my mother about this. Well, she exploded. She went out on a full on scream/lecture on why i harmed myself, how idiotic it was, and that she did not have a crazy daughter...including long strings of profane language here and there. My openness started to close from that point.
Fast forwarding a bit to high school (I’m seventeen now, by the way), I started realize that something was a bit off with me. My concentration was—still is horrible; I attempted to listen to a lecture but found myself daydreaming about food or other nonsense; I attempted to finish homework early, but I found myself starting at 8 at night, because I was distracted by the internet and other irrelevant things. I brought this up to my mother, and like before, she did not react very well. She waved it off as if it was absolutely normal, but I badgered her until she took me seriously, and when she did, boy was I happy in the longest time. She made an appointment with a psychiatrist, but I couldn’t help feel that she did that just to humor me. The psychiatrist diagnosed me ADD, but I didn’t tell her about those odd feelings that bothered me at the time( still does), because I was afraid of being labeled as a child looking for attention. I was prescribed vyvanse for my ADD on the lowest dosage, and was told to call back to get a stronger dose if the effects wore off too early( you know, to see where I stood in the spectrum). Unfortunately, they were not strong enough. I told her that the meds were ineffective now and I needed a stronger dosage, and again, she when ballistic. My mother refused to take me back, saying that I didn’t need to talk to a psychiatrist about my problems when I had her. She also refused to get me my meds, stilling having a hard time separating the facts that vyvanse was not an addictive drug. She was even told repeatedly by the psychiatrist that it was safe. I found it strange that my mother was in this irrational, selfish state, seeing how she was in nursing—NURSING.
I’m still struggling with the lack of focus and my dropping grades, and an array of negative emotions clouding my mind. I feel empty, I want to be alone, I get agitated easily, I feel hopeless, worthless, guilty. So many thoughts and emotions race though my head, jumbling up everything; I can’t convey what I want to say, every thought tries to contradict one another I can’t sleep because of all the thoughts racing throughout the night I can’t make a fricken decision without looking like an indecisive idiot I can’t do ALOT OF THINGS.
I keep telling myself I’m normal, everything is ok and just smile, laugh, make others happy. In doing so, I realized how easily I could lie to others without a hitch in my voice, and lie to myself. I’ve also noticed how my social mask is now crumbling, and that terrifies me. I’ve also took a fancy to death recently, which I find hilarious. But do not misunderstand, I found it ironic that I scoffed at the very idea of dying just years ago. I think death would be quite pleasant, because it would relief me of all the heavy emotions, feelings, memories, etc. Call me a coward for thinking this way, but if it will make me feel better, then I would rather be one. I find it so tempting, oh so very tempting to go ahead and end it right there and then, during my cutting sessions( took up cutting again, unfortunately), but I know it’s wrong, then right, then wrong and so on with the vicious cycle. I’m thinking of going to my school psychologist, but I’m afraid that she will tell my mother. My mother is under a lot of stress as she is studying to become a specialized nurse of some sort, and she wouldn’t be able to juggle what ever problem I have and the expenses for her studying materials( Nursing books are fricken expensive!). I don’t want to trouble her more by throwing this on her, so I don’t know what to do. I know I’ll solidify my deadly thoughts in the future, so I want to do something while I still have my rational. I don’t think what I’ve wrote completely conveyed the problems I am experiencing, but I’ll save you—whoever managed to read up to this far, and stop here.
Thank you.
Last edited by Christina86; Feb 18, 2011 at 06:43 AM.
Reason: added trigger icon
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