Wednesday, 3 October 2012

So I'm still here then.....

I found that when I needed to stop drinking vodka, the only way I could do it was to have a bottle of vodka near me... that safety, the knowledge, that I didn't have to panic because there was no vodka, it was just that I was choosing not to drink it. When I have previously given up smoking, I have always done the same, always had a packet of tobacco and rolly papers to hand, just choosing not to smoke. In life it is the same, I choose currently to live it, but I have a box of pills which means that if I choose not to do so, then I can stop living quickly.

It is the safety of knowing that I can do this which means that I continue. I can weigh up how far I have come, how far I have to go, and make the choice, to stay and fight or to give up and leave.

When I was young, I was told by an important adult in my life that he was going to kill me, that no one would notice that I had gone, and no one would care... because I was such a bad person. He would hold me several inches from the floor, against the wall, by my neck... squeezing gently and whispering his hate for me. These aren't things a girl forgets, not even forty years on.  These are things that as every day goes by, I remember again, and again.

It is funny how the negative stuff stays with me, and defines me more than the good stuff. It doesn't matter how many times I am told I am loved... I know it can't be true...that if that person knew me better, they would know I am a bad person. Don't tell me I can write, because a defining person in my life has told me I can't. If you tell me I can write, I can only presume that you are not as good a judge of writing as him, and I know my writing is poor. I have been told so.

I ask MOMD to make me better, he squeezes me tight, tells me he can't make me better, but that he loves me.... I know he is right, I am not ill.... I am bad.

Can I challenge those deeply held beliefs that my life is valueless, that it will not be noticed if I am dead, that no one really cares about me, no one would miss me if I was gone?  These are defining beliefs about myself which have never been discussed.... can I challenge these beliefs if I see my life as disposable?

Therapy, therapy, therapy.... opening up those boxes of memories which I locked shut and sunk deep into the deep channels of my sea. Boxes, so old are rotting, the contents slowly polluting the ocean. Can any therapy truly work while that is swilling around in the dregs of my brain... 'it is understandable why you think that way', the therapist says... is it really?

I remember the Police women who looked after me when I had been assaulted earlier this year... 'do you think your behaviour is normal?' they said, no it's not f***in' normal, it's not normal to be assaulted... it's not normal to think that I deserve to be assaulted, because I am bad. 'We are concerned about the lacerations on your arms', umm... I made the 'lacerations' on my arms because I hate myself because I am bad. 'You need a psychological assessment, because we don't think you are normal', no, let me save you the time, I am completely normal... but I am bad.

It is exhausting to be me today, I haven't got anything to do, so think I will watch some rubbish television, crawl under my quilt and take a diazepam...yes, just one! It is difficult to have a busy brain, an enquiring mind and nothing to do with it.... oh apart from writing my blog... best be sedated and stop thinking.

Much love x

6 comments:

susan said...

Oh honey, If I could go back in time and tear that person's balls off and shove them down his throat and watch him choke I would.

I know I can't say the stuff that will make you feel better, I wish I could take the edge off sometimes though, with a cuddle or humour or, well anything really.

I posted something funny, read it when you feel able, it might make you smile and picture it sometimes when you need a giggle (it's a shame I couldn't youtube it).

I, too, think I am a 'bad' person sometimes tho I did not have the extreme experiences you have had.

By the way, I am quite a good judge of character and you feel 'right' to me.
Much love
Susan x

susan said...

PS The funny post was followed by a hideous one, you can skip that if you like.
N'night
x

Isabelle Nuts said...

Thank you to everyone who commented on Facebook and to Susan, who commented on here. It is a sticky old week, not made any the easier as I thought I was getting there, and then find that I am not!
I will get there, God willing, but it sure as anything helps to know the amount of love and care which is out there for me.
Much love x

Isabelle Nuts said...

Susan, I can't post on your blog, there seems to be an error with the page which is preventing me from writing the sermon to you which I want...but
Hug.Please make an emergency appointment at Dr and go. If my car was on the road and I wasn't up to my tits in diazempam I would come and take you myself.
Much love x

susan said...

Hi Isabelle
sorry you can't comment, I am only pretending to be a 'blogger' I haven't a feckin clue what i am doing half/most of the time larf. Basically I am just typing with style (to quote Buzz Lightyear)
I take diazepam to get me to dentist and for blood tests etc. I quite like the feeling of calm okayness (is that a word - it is now) and that scares me a little. Yes I will remind GP for referral to counselling. In the meantime these pages get me through. I have now decided to talk a little to my boys (jeez they are 23 and 26 for chrissake) and they are sympathetic and make me laugh too. I slept last night using an antihistamine tablet - knocked me out completely and woke this morning feeling like the cat had crapped on my head and danced in it lol.
When I look at my Blogger 'overview' page it makes no sense at all so until I figger it out maybe we can chat in the comments bit. When I look at your page I see mine (I grinned like a loon when I saw it) so I think that means you are following but it is not 'registering'. Hang on there a minute I'm going to check my 'spam inbox' oooeerr missus.
I need a blogging for idiots book.
I am not officially on facebook, (explanation another time), it is a place that scares me a little.
Love
Susan x

Lisa said...

Isabelle, this is the first opportunity I have had to be able to comment on your post but I have thought about it a lot. I'm guessing you have had all kinds of therapy and they have tried to help you resolve stuff. It has been my experience that opening up these wounds just causes more pain and strengthens the memory. Also it takes you back to your thoughts as a child and I don't believe we can replace those thoughts with those of an adult. However, we can resolve to look at life realistically. You know you are not bad. Also you are not ill. What we are, are people who's bodies do not produce the correct amount of chemicals to keep our brains working as other people's do. Much like diabetics bodies don't create enough insulin.

But I am straying from my main comment. I listen to people I respect. If I don't respect them, and in your case how can you respect a person who did such things, then I'm not interested in their opinion or what they say about me and nor should you be. Respect for others and ourselves is so important in life and love.

I work in an office with a gaggle of women. I know they talk behind my back the same as I hear them talking behind others backs. But I don't care what they have said because I have no respect for gossips.

You are not listening when people tell you your writing is good because they do not have the qualifications you deem necessary for you to believe them. Thats fine. I know I don't, I just like your writing. However, it is possible for you to find someone your do respect for their writing craft and have them look at your work and listen to them.

We are adults and we can decide the people in our lives who have put us in this position are wrong and we choose to let the past go and move forward.

God Bless you Isabelle, hang on in there.
Lv, Lisa