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Today, I feel very sad and beaten, I give up. I have wrote this in many posts before, 'I give up' but I am now realizing more and more that I am never going to beat this. It has it's hold on me like it always has, and it will never let go of me. I will continue to live as I always have for my children, but it has me, it beat me a long time ago, I am accepting the fact that I will never win.
The whole reason I wanted to begin to beat it in the beginning was to stop the racing, crazy thoughts, hallucinations, nightmares, paranoia, and memories that were taking over my life. I was so scared of going crazy, and I was. So I found Pandys, started therapy and it helped. Then my reason for 'beating' this was to change me. Change this person that I hated so much, that I hate now. Looking back, I wanted to change what has happened, what has made me who I am today, and fact is I can't. I am who I am because of it, and it is too late to change, it is impossible, I have tried. It still permeates every part of me.
Even when I don't notice it, when I don't see it, it is there. The way that I feel about myself, about life, the way I live, the way I think, plan the future, the way I raise my children, the way that I am in my marriage, in life is all because of what all that shit taught me about life. I grew up seeing life in a different way because of how things were, and I never knew a different way or that there was a different way until I started therapy. I was 31 years old when I realized, "Wow, that wasn't normal, that my life was horrible as a child and beyond, that there is better out there, that I should expect better, that there is a chance that I do deserve love, and deserve to be treated with respect, and compassion (though I don't think I truly believe it)" I was told this and in my mind believed it, but wanted so badly to feel it also, to accept it. That will never happen, it never will.
It is in my mind, I know how things should be, how I want them to be, but it just isn't so and never will be. As I said I give up.
I quit therapy, it was going okay, but I quit. I quit because my deductible was due once again, and I could not afford it. I quit because I also quit school, and school was my reason for driving an hour away in order to go to therapy. I quit because I did not want to tell my husband that I was going, and that I had been for months. I quit because it was scaring me. I have such a detachment to it all, always have, to all the shit, to the feelings, the emotions, to it all, and I was scared that the EMDR that was happening was going to break that detachment, that I was going to begin to feel all too well, that I was going to have to feel all that pain that I have buried so deeply, and that someone would see that pain. I can't stand the thought of someone seeing my pain, my t would have, I couldn't let that happen. I was scared because, I was beginning to allow someone to truly see me, and I was scared because I was becoming to reliant on it all. I was scared, so I quit.
Now here I am, wishing that I hadn't quit. Wishing that I would have found the money someway, and that I would have been strong enough to face it. I am still as weak as I always was, couldn't tell my husband, couldn't face the pain, I could have found the money, yet here I am. I need therapy, I know that I do, I had found a good therapist, yet here I am, it seems impossible. There was so much more that I needed to work on, things that I was not able to tell him, things that I still am having problems with, that my t knew nothing about because I was ashamed to tell anyone.
I am scared, I am doing okay, but what if one day comes and I am not? What if I can no longer fight hard enough to survive, what if I can no longer pull myself out of these depressive states that I will sometimes get into. What if I fall deeper and deeper, what if I get to a point where I can no longer survive? Thing is I have no one that I can talk to about it, I only had my t, and now I don't. I am tired, and each more bad period that I have is more weight that pulls me down further and further.
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The Kelsey Briggs Story
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~In Memory of Kelsey Briggs