People

I have been giving myself a lot of time to think. And here are some things that I have figured out…either in my own head…or as I tried to write out what I was feeling to my counselor.

It’s all about people.

Like…I know this…it’s people that scare me. This isn’t new. But, there’s this other layer…

I’ve always said that, when I have my nightmares…it’s not a rehash of the events that happened. It’s my mother…taking everything away. “Everything”. That’s the word I always use. But…if I think about it…what she always takes away is people. I’ll have made amends with someone…she convinces them I’m no good. In my most vivid one ever, I was pregnant with twins. She brutally murdered them after they were born. I’ll be in a new relationship, she convinces them to run. I’ll make new friends, she convinces them I’m a terrible person and they leave.

Obviously just dreams, right? That’s what a normal person would probably tell me. But they’re not. This is the woman who called my ex husband the day we got engaged and told him not to marry me. “She’ll be a terrible wife and an awful mother.” This is the woman who went and sat at my work for 2 hours when I was younger and, with crocodile tears, sat there and lamented how her daughter hated her…I walked into work the next day and everyone despised me for “breaking my poor mother’s heart”. (Mind you, this was shortly after she denied me insurance coverage during a medical emergency because “oh I dropped you after you started all of your bullshit”.) This is the “mother” who bought braves tickets for an ex boyfriend I had to call the police on for harassment…to apologize for me being a bitch.

You get the point. Time after time after time…she has taken people away from me or attempted to.

So…when I go into a PTSD spiral…

Honestly? I have this HORRIBLE simultaneous feeling of wanting to run away and just wanting SOMEONE to care enough not to let me. My desperate wish is to be…enough…that people will love me enough to hear my tears. But at the same time I’m afraid to hope for such a thing because I never had it.

I’ve tried to figure out why this time is worse than it’s ever been.

1. Pretty sure the heart medication has something to do with that. No joke.

2. I never expected anyone to be there before. But I have a saying that’s always repeated in my head. “Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to believe.” If you don’t believe anyone is there, it doesn’t hurt when they’re not. But I started to believe. I started to believe I was enough for people…that I was loveable…that I was worth sticking around for. And…To be fair…I have some friends who love me very much. Or…parts of me. But not this part of me. And so they’re letting me run. Out of love for me. But…my counselor thinks I’m not telling them that it’s hurting me. That I’m pretty sure I could die this morning…and no one would notice until Bella gets home Sunday night. That I could say, “I think I’m going to end it.” and my friends would say, “If that’s what you think will make you feel better.” And that hurts because I’ve done my best to pull my friends out of their own darkness… And, as some of my friends may read this, I’m not blaming you. I’m trying to work out in my head exactly how broken I am…or if I’m really NOT communicating. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Which sucks for a know it all. Lol

My daughter…well, her counselor has told me I’m her safe place. That she’s so mean to me sometimes because she’s angry and afraid, but she knows I’m the one person who won’t give up on her. I realized in the past week…Bella is MY safe place, too. She’s the person I can joke and laugh with no matter how much the rest of the world is falling apart. She’s the person that makes me want to be strong. She’s my light in the darkness. (She’s also the one who teases me (not incorrectly) that my friends know I’d never do anything to hurt myself because, “You’re too nice and you’d never want to inconvenience someone by leaving a mess for them to clean up”. 😆 )

So. Yeah. People. Apparently people are “everything” to my subconscious. Losing them is what wakes me up screaming. Being near them and not belonging is what breaks my heart. And there is one 15 year old person who may be my savior.