Saturday, November 25, 2006

Day 97

So, I distracted myself last night for as long as I could, then I self harmed again, took a Zopiclone and went to sleep.

For days/weeks I don't even think about it (the self harming), then the thought will creep into my head and I can't (seemingly), do anything about it until I finally complete the act. I sometimes think it might be easier just to get it over and done with the minute the thought comes into my head. Why fight it?

The funny thing is that all I think afterwards is "how can I be a bride with arms that look like mine?" I know, an astonishing thought, as there are no weddings remotely on my horizon. But if there were to be a wedding, I certainly wouldn't want to be wearing sleeves. No, no, no, I have something more sleeveless in mind. Sleeveless and full skirted. And cup cakes instead of a wedding cake. I might even have the band picked out, but admitting to that would be like admitting I was completely sad wouldn't it?

Other thoughts on my mind, apart from artificial insemination (that was by no means a flippant remark), is a trip to London town. My gorgeous second family in the south have asked if I can make it down sometime soon, and it has put me into a tail spin, quandry style, mess. I want to go, yes I do, but I am scared. Old Rozza colliding with new Rozza. Old careeer girl Rozza, collides head first, in a slow, car crash fashion, with new "I lie in bed all day and scratch my arms 'till they bleed" Rozza.

I suppose having both the physical and mental distance, with vast quantities of mileage between myself and my 'old life', have made it easier to cope with the loss I feel, the loss of having lost my life.

Over the past few days and dangerous nights, I have been perusing my old haunts on the internet. Primarily looking at the company I used to work for. The good news for them is the fact that they are doing amazingly well. Amazingly well, without me. That makes me feel really, really gutted, and that I, along with every other human on the planet is replaceable. I have no idea of what to do about that. I'm scared that I will go down there and visit the lovely Second Family, and be reminded of everything I don't have anymore. Everything that I chose to walk away from. I felt I had no other option at the time because I was struggling massively with my mind, but it doesn't stop these feelings of regret.

"What if I disappoint them?"


Blogger Snoskred said...

They'll build a bridge and get over it. Or, they'll learn to accept you as you are, disappointments and all.

Your post is really making me think about how much pressure we put on *ourselves* on behalf of other people.

I'm sure anyone's expectations of you would have as a number one priority, your health and happiness. Because if you're not healthy and happy, you can't really be yourself. It's you they know, and it's you they want around. If you actually asked them what they want from you, what do you think they would they say?

I haven't really talked much about this, but I walked out of my job at a place my parents own on a Thursday at lunchtime. I haven't been back in the building since. It's been a good couple of months. My partner works there. My parents work there. I sit at home, trying to figure out what the heck to do with myself for the rest of my life. There were a lot of issues and a lot of reasons why I had to do it, but number one was because of my health.

Over thr course of all of this, I have realised that I have been putting pressure on myself and thinking that was coming from other people. What will people think? How will people react? And eventually, I have had to get to a point where I realise, I really can't care about what other people will think of me or how they will react to what I'm doing. I need to do the best thing for me.

I'm willing to bet, if you asked the people who love you (and you *know* people do) what they want you to do is the best thing for you. They want you to be healthy and happy.

And so do I. So does everyone reading this blog. Why do you think we keep coming back here? For the color scheme? :)

The first day I visited your blog, I went back to the start and read everything you've written. I like the person I've seen here. Warts and all. And I don't even know you. I'd say I'm praying for you but I'm not religious, so probably what I'm doing is cheering for you. From the other side of the world. Without ever having met you.

Sure, work is coping without me. They're coping without you. That doesn't mean we can be replaced. They can get someone else in to do the job, but that someone will never be you or I. It's not the same thing at all. You're not replaceable. You're not a light bulb. There's no factory churning out identical Rozza's.

2:35 pm  
Blogger MasterQ said...

Have you heard the phrase 'I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it'? Well I don't know how much anyone can really enjoy being a little off, but it's a fact that you have to find the joys, the bits of happiness in the in the gloom and hold on tight. I'm another who has returned many times and is 'cheering you on'. Don't give up.

8:08 am  

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