Done

Is it christmas? Is it the that time of the year where it feels like most of the day it’s dark outside? Or is it just the trigger of that one person coming into my personal space?

I’m hoping it’s all three. Because that would mean the trigger didn’t bring me down as bad as I thought it would.
I can’t even say; back off. I can’t find the words, they’re stuck in my throat. All I can do is stare into the distance and wait. Fade away inside myself, into this emptiness. While a tiny part of me just wishes for some comfort, even if it’s from my mum. For someone to come save me. Get this thing away from me.

But it’s not my place. Not anymore. It can just go around and to its thing. No matter how it feels to me. I mean that’s what’s freedom is about right? It would take ages to write the whole story. Which wouldn’t even matter, because I like to clear my head while writing stuff down, but I’m just too scared that everyone would say it’s all in my head, my fault, that I’m overreacting.

At some point I was sitting and staring yesterday, and he touched the top of my head in a “comforting gesture” (makes me sick to my stomach), and I just kept on feeling his hand on my head, on top of my hair. Even though I knew, his hand wasn’t there anymore. After a while I just had to go rub my head against the wall to get his hand off of it.

This isn’t worth anything.
I’m done.

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The bags under my eyes are prada

Today I did it. I emailed Brandon. I’m kinda afraid of his reaction. I was very honest. I’m afraid too honest. But a part of me is thinking, how can I be too honest with my therapist? He knows me better than anyone else.

I feel so torn between two parts of me.
The part of me that is real angry and feels like destroying everything “Madness is the gift that has been given to me

& the part that just desperately wants to stop the pain but doesn’t know how “Don’t tear me down for all I need, make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe

Actually they both mean the same. Anger does cover up pain. The basic question in my email to Brandon was; how can I stop/survive/handle this pain?

xoxo
Brianna

If you say so

image

I couldn’t find a reason to stay among the living, so I searched for it among the dead.

Today I visited a cemetery. For multiple reasons.
– I wanted to (as stated above) look for a reason to stay.
– I wanted to say I’m sorry to them, for being ungrateful with my life while (probably) most of them didn’t want to die.
– I was looking for a safe place. A place where it’s actually okay to cry.

I think it did me well to go. I saw a lot of touching things, made me cry, cry for them, the people around them. The hurt they must have been feeling or maybe still are feeling.

I sat there on a bench and did some stuff that was hard for me to do, but it felt easier there.

Though it brought me a lot. On my way home, my muscles still were burning in pain. This rock was still smothering my lungs. I still felt this agonizing pain inside. I could barely walk normal. Or even hold my tears.

I’m pretty sure I’ll go back, I just don’t know when yet.

Arghh

Hi,

Wrote a whole post about how I’m feeling and then I realized…… it’s stupid, because it’s about how lonely I feel and it’s all I can write about. So I just put it as draft.
I’ll state it here, short but powerful; I’m lonely.

So now that’s off my chest.
I had a little fight with my sister.

She used to call me a stalker and stuff like that, because I could get so caught up in the people I like. I found this thing on the internet about a little description about people like that and stuff, and I send it to her, asked her wat she thought of it.

She was all like ‘I think everyone is obsessive in some way’ BALBLALBALBALBLALLBALBLLALBAL. So, yeah sure, but that’s not the point. It’s a problem when it stands in the way of things. Otherwise everyone has OCD, everyone has PTSD, everyone has BPD, everyone is psychotic! Jeez -_-
She got all ‘know it all’ because she studied a form of psychology.
Then she said ‘with you it’s just insecurity’ ………………….. oh, I’m sorry, I can’t remember you taking some psychologic tests with me. I’m JUST insecure? If that’s the problem, well then there is no problem

THAT STUPID GIRL WAS BLABBING STUFF ABOUT HOW SHE COULDN’T HANDLE HEARING ABOUT MY PAST AND STUFF BECAUSE IT HURT HER SO BAD.

and now she freaking denies everything by saying I’m just insecure.

I can’t remember telling here what goes on in my mind, BECAUSE SHE FREAKING PUTS ME DOWN FOR IT.

Last I told her something about 5 months earlier involving Abraham. And she said ‘Jeez, you’re not contact him are you?’ SORRY TROLL FOR WANTING TO CONTACT SOMEONE WHO HELPED ME. Unlike you 
Who does she think she is??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Bullshit when she said she thinks I’m having such a hard time. Freaking ass kissing.
Every time when I mention a boy’s name (it was someone who was on TV on The voice) she says ‘Who the fuck is that?’ or something like ‘Oh jesus, someone else again?’

Sorry miss PERFECT. I don’t have  FIANCEE who PAYS every damn thing for me. Who accepts my AWFUL personality. BRAINS TO FUCKING STUDY. SIzE DAMN 0 (size zero) WITH THE PERFECT CLOTHES. The ability to straighten that STUPID ASS HAIR. An Iphone, Ipad, Laptop, big ass TV prescription, super fast internet speed, SUPPORT AROUND ME.

I do agree, we should not diagnose everything, or make up a diagnose for everything. Because then nobody would be normal. Some things are just character or personality.

She doesn’t even know it’s the SECOND damn week, I have cried EVERY day, MULTIPLE times about being LONELY. Before that I was cutting the shit out of myself. And my memory doesn’t go far back, but I guess I was feeling very lonely before that (cutting) period as well.

I don’t tell her this stuff, because she’ll just be all ‘sad’ because I’m going through this. So I can’t even tell her, because she can’t handle it. And now I don’t, she thinks she knows me by calling me  ‘just insecure’ SWEETY, I WISH I WAS JUST INSECURE.

I am crying my ass of right now, begging in my head for someone to kill me, begging for mercy in some way. I HATE feeling misunderstood. It is just NOT that simple. Does she think I like sitting at home? Does she think I like being this FUCKING FAT? Does she think I like being this UGLY? Well I don’t.

 

MY HEART IS BROKEN.

Broken by life. Broken by this horrible world we live in.

I feel so damn alone.

By the way, I saw this wordpress blog post (the one that brought this whole thing up);
http://childhoodtraumarecovery.com/2013/11/21/childhood-trauma-and-obsessive-love-disorder/

Then I searched on the internet for it, and found this wikipedia stuff;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obsessive_love
And the wikipedia stuff is what I showed my sister.

Of course I do not think I have this disorder, it’s not even an official disorder. Like I said earlier in my blog, I guess the complex part about Complex PTSD, is that it looks like so much things (borderline, bipolar, ddnos, ptsd, psychosis, depression, anxiety) but it isn’t, because it’s ‘just’ a result of the trauma. And I was just thinking that the obsessive love thing, might be a small result as well. THAT’S ALL.
But they talk about ‘severe emotional injury’.. what is severe? I don’t think I had severe emotional injury, but just emotional injury.

Anyway, it feels like I should have shut my big mouth. What was I thinking trying to open up?

My sister doesn’t even know about the guys I talk to anymore, she always has negative comments on it! She doesn’t even know I went on a date a few weeks back. Because I know she wouldn’t approve. She’d just get annoyed and maybe even angry with me.

Of course I love her.. but this was just a slap in the face. Not just a slap, but a slap from her. Which made everything more painful.

Maybe not even a slap, but a stump, pushing me back into my cave. As if she’s saying ‘what the hell are you doing out here? Go back!’

She doesn’t need to hate me, I can do that all by myself.

Well.. I guess this is rejection? Or not?
I don’t even care.

Just want rest. Let me do a hibernation. I’ll wake up in April or something like that. Maybe, just MAYBE, I’ll feel a little more rested then, and maybe….. maybe… I’ll have a little more strength. And maybe.. the flame of hope will be lit again. I just don’t have any matches or a lighter left.

I really hope I’ll be done crying soon, than I can go to sleep.

Brianna