Thursday, June 2, 2016

When Nobody Listens, L'dor V'dor, and Vera

Trigger/Content Warning (TW/CW): this blog post contains mentions of suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, and self harm. Reader discretion is advised.

My body must be getting weaker as the years go by.

I finally snapped and shut down my system.

My 23-month slice free streak came to a bitter and bloody end a few days ago.  I had a feeling this day would come soon.

I can handle not feeling like I fit in a community of folks.

I can handle not being wanted by my birth family.

I can handle the pressure of not being listened to and/or taken seriously.

I can handle the possibility of losing my independence and being placed into an autistic "group home."

I can handle having the responsibility of sharing my space with a femme feline fatale.

But I can not handle all of those things at once.

It became too much.

I type out this blog post with Callie laying next to me, in the hole by $1.77 (not including the overdraft fee) in my bank account, and feeling like the most worthless piece of shit on this G-d given earth.

Yeah, just as I was about to get my financial shit together, I decided to go against my judgment and adopt a cat.  And now I'm broker than broke.  I don't blame Callie for this at all; she is the one who picked me and not the other way around.  I blame myself for continually making stupid choices day after day, paycheck after paycheck.  Maybe one of my former friends is right; I will never get it together.

If I had it my way, I would hand over all of my credit accounts to someone and have them pay every single one off.  Then I would close all of these accounts.  Finally, I would do whatever it took to paid that debt off for that person (within legal limits, of course).

Because now I have somecat who loves me and wants me this much, I am willing to defend and protect Callie at all costs.  I want to be the best furparent to this munchkin.  I have already failed Belle, Junior, and Sam; I want to make it up to them by being by Callie's side.

Feeling like a major disappointment is one thing.  Feeling like a major disappointment to the entire world is another thing.  Being told, over and over, that 1) no matter what I do in this life, if I am not married, popping out children, and raising said children as Jews, then I didn't fulfill my purpose in life (in Hebrew it is "l'dor v'dor", "from generation to generation"), 2) no matter what I do in this life, because I am autistic there is always the potential that I could go under guardianship or be surrendered to the ward of the state and lose whatever existence I have.

With that broken 45 on the turntable, who wants to bother even staying alive, right?  Just go out, pick a weapon of choice, and paint the town red with the blood of the naysayers and the abusers.

Luckily those intentions are far away gone now.  But the arms still bear reminders of my breakdown.  My apologies to Steve Blum, as his autograph tattoo wasn't granted mercy from the blade.

At this point, I now know what it is like to feel the walls close in all around.  I now feel the difference between a beating heart and a cemented one.  The trust I had with some people, who were placed into my life as individuals willing to help me lead a better life, has evaporated itself from the tea kettle boiling with anger.

If anything, if I could, I would like to send a message to my former social worker therapist; the one who transferred my case to a psychologist in order to do dialectical behavior therapy.

"My work is done. I caught the psychologist pushing me to use more of my 'emotional mind' instead of my 'wise mind'. While I was practicing an equal relationship with the psychologist, they in turn used a goal-driven relationship.  When do I get to come back to tell you how I feel about you, social worker therapist, abandoning me because you couldn't handle my case?"

No more Mixter Nice Brat.  I feel extremely evil, hateful, more paranoid, and less verbal; as if this was actually who I once was or supposed to be.

I'm ready to throwdown at a moment's notice.

Since nobody wants me, I will seclude with Callie.

Since people that did want me ended up abusing me, I will burn bridges and everything surrounding it.

Since nobody listened to me, I will remain silent.

Everyone had their chance.

This is what depression does.

No comments:

Post a Comment