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Old Aug 26, 2013, 02:05 PM
bluegirl007 bluegirl007 is offline
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Member Since: Aug 2013
Posts: 61
wow can I totally relate to everything you're saying...trying to function as if you're okay and everythings okay, all the while falling apart inside...10 years ago I worked in sales, and was the #1 sales person in the world in a male dominated company, was making more money money than I could shake a stick at, had all the plaques and accolades and recognition to go with it, but inside I felt worthless, like walking human garbage. It's like no matter how much success in my career I had, no matter how many great relationships I had, I still felt like I was worthless. And so the act continued. Til one day I just lost it 10 years ago.




Quote:
Originally Posted by MotownJohnny View Post
Thank you both for the replies. It's like, really, can you believe how much this stinks? It's not the " picture" of life that was painted for me years ago - the image was work hard, live right, reap the rewards. I didn't see a trip to the psyche ward anywhere in there. I wonder just how common this really is? I bet if we only knew .... I live in a really upscale suburb, 1-2-3 millon dollar houses, everyone drives Caddies and Mercedes and Lexus, travels, yada yada yada. "Perfect lives" - probably just a bunch of people covering like me. Maybe "going to Florida" is code for "inpatient for 3 weeks", who knows?

Anyway, when I read what I wrote, it struck me as really sad that I write that the cover -up is the first priority. Recovery should be my highest priority. I didn't ask for this firestorm to rain down on me, I've always been a good guy, just wounded, and I deserve so much better than this. I could easily have been the monster my father was if I had let it consume me in that way, and I worked so hard to be the total opposite, and I can feel good about that. But, all along this trip through mental health land, it seems like no one I encounter thinks the bar should be set all that high. I totally disagree, set the bar higher and higher, because I want the life that was stolen from me. I want it back, and I guess if I want it I have to take it back. I am doing these weird bike trips at night around town, intentionally spooking myself by recreating last year's nightmare. And, I'm pretty convinced God is having the best time messing with me, because things happen, like the exact same song I was listening to one night a year ago, walking down a street sobbing my eyes out, came up in the random shuffle of some almost 5000 songs. Exact same one. Really God? That gave me a chuckle. At least He has the same dark sense of humor I do.