spring/pesachtime

i hate this time of year. hate, hate, hate it. if i'm acting weird, or spacing out on you, or freaking out from nothing and everything, or not making sense, or rambling, or anything to any extreme, it's cuz it's almost pesach. this year, he's not coming for pesach at all. except maybe one day of chol hamoed. but why would anyone know that yet? why would anyone think that maybe little sheep has to reserve her friends in advance for that day, or there's no gauruntee that she'll have someone to be with when he comes? how silly of me to think that it makes a difference to him. doesn't help that his wife is due in like two months. and whatever. yeah, it's almost pesach. did i ever mention that i hate pesach?

goals IV

decided to get back into things...here goes

this week i will...

~be out of the house by nine every day (thanks to mrs. g...)

~eat two meals every day

~when i feel the need to hurt myself, first look at the 25 things to do first list. (and hopefully try some of them. but i'm not making any promises on that part)

~write a positive post on friday (no promises for any other day...)

~write down what i accomplished every day (thanks to rabbi l...)

~try not to beat myself up if i don't manage to do all this

childhood games

we used to play together, you and i.
did you ever think that games i played were weird?
do we even have the same memories of the games we played?

when i think of playing lego with you in my living room,
i don't picture myself moving around the mentchies...or building...
*too embarrassed to say what i really picture...*

when i think of playing with you in the downstairs bedroom,
(remember when it was big?)...
*too embarrassed to say what i really see*

do you remember it too?

this is not talking about jack. this is actually speaking to a real, good friend, who i hope is reading this. shabbos brings back interesting memories! what do you remember, friend? (you commented here)

positive post II

this week i...

~had an enjoyable guest for shabbos (thanks shef! ;)

~went to a simcha without panicking (it helped that he didn't come!)

~went out to eat with my mother

~went to a shiur with a friend

~showered on my own, no phone :)

~visited my aunt and cousins

~ate two meals (four days)

~went walking with my father (two days)

~had a friend over (thanks friend! :) )

~went to a party (thanks friend! :) )

~finished cleaning my room for pesach

cranky

forget a good day. i'm cranky and irritable and i feel like nothing is right in my life, even though i know that plenty is. i feel like crying. i want to curl up and shut down, not talk to or see anyone. instead, every two minutes i get called downstairs for something else.

i don't want to be.
just leave me.

today

just a little note to say
i'm having a really wonderful day!

i'm a mess

i'm a mess right now.
i can't stop hurting myself.
i know this post is going to get some people really mad at me.
i'm sorry....

another psychiatrist visit

next step in this life of pain
went to the psychiatrist again
my decisions don't make her happy
since i'm not going to DBT
a worthless visit anyhow
no new decisions were made now
no med changes, no new therapist,
just left me feeling therapissed!

*therapissed-to be annoyed at one's therapist

therapy (cont)

therapist #5 suggested that i try EMDR, and then come back to her. after discussing it with my psychiatrist, it was decided that it was a good idea. so off i went to therapist #6, otherwise known as The Disaster. she destroyed what was left of my morale. within a few sessions, i basically learned that everyone who had ever tried to help me before her was a terrible person, and i should never have listened to my parents about how to deal with my problems. i saw her for a few months, despite hating her guts. one session that comes to mind...i was freaking out in her office. shaking and crying. i had a really bad cold. now usually, when i'm crying, i can breathe somewhat. this time, my nose was stuffed, and i couldn't. she chose that day to try teaching me proper breathing techniques..."in through your nose, out through your mouth." yeah. like any air could go "in through my nose" no amount of "i can't"s helped. i got more tense. she told me to breathe. i cried. she told me to breathe. oops, session time over. bye, little sheep! who cares if you're crying? go out into the street... when i went away for a short vacation after a few months with her, i just never made an appointment when i came back. she just wasn't worth it.

since EMDR wasn't at all successful, (i don't know if we even got to do actual EMDR in all the time i was with her) i couldn't go back to therapist #5, so my psychiatrist decided it was time for something new. maybe some group therapy would help. she put us in touch with therapist #7, who didn't have a group for me, but we decided to try her out, in the hopes that maybe she would eventually have one. the thing i remember most about her is her cats. she had two cats who had free roam of her apartment/office. a joy. they liked me. i didn't like them.

when i started really not liking her anymore, and wasn't getting better anyway, only worse, i refused to go back. i told my parents that if they wanted me in therapy, it was therapist #5 or no one. surprisingly, she accepted me back. i saw her for a while, and then we came to a standstill. i wasn't getting anywhere. we decided together that it was time for me to move on. i stopped therapy, and didn't go back in for a while.

(the time span from the beginning of my therapy saga, (therapist #1, school guidance counselor) to what i'm about to say was about eleven years)

around a year ago, i started falling backwards again. getting more suicidal. more SI. more depressed. i made an appointment with my psychiatrist, who gave me new meds (yay! since this post wasn't about meds, i didn't go through all of them, but...yeah.) and the name of therapist #8. therapist #8 was nice. i hit it off with her pretty quickly. worked myself ragged. started writing more, and sharing it in therapy. i worked with her until i started dealing with the stupid study. (was going to link to that, but then i realized there are too many posts about it to choose)

after being rejected from the actual study, i started with therapist #9. i'm not going into details about her, it's way too fresh. but she wasn't bad. (pretty high praise from me...) and now...it's over. i'm going back in a week and a half, and then i'm off two new things...who knows???

therapy

to start from the beginning...

two years before the explosion i started therapy for the first time. therapist #1 was the guidance counselor at school, and i went to her (at first) cause i was freaking out over some health issues going on in my family. once i got over that, i continued going to her, since it was a good way to miss class. i never liked school, so this was the perfect excuse. every week, i would miss at least half an hour of class playing in the guidance counselor's office.

i continued seeing her for two years, even after she left the school. when i called my mother two years later, (see the poem) the first thing she did was call my therapist. that's when my strangeness clicked in everyone's mind. so that's why little sheep is so moody/explosive/such a crybaby/doing so poorly in school/refusing to do homework...i stayed with her for half a year later, when i decided out of the blue that i didn't want therapy anymore, and i was fine, and all that. she said i outgrew her, which was probably true.

after a year and a half of not being in therapy, and still being the same moody/explosive...kid i was before, my parents decided that i needed to be in therapy again. so along came therapists #2 & 3. i loved them both so much, that i can't even tell the difference between the two! they shared an office, so that after dropping the first one (two sessions in), when i got there for the second one, i already had a prejudice against her. either way, neither of them was too exciting. one said in the first session "you think your parents are making too big of a deal out of this, and that it's not a big issue, and they should leave you alone." ironically, the other one said the exact opposite. "you think that your parents don't care, and that they make light of your issues." those statements were what doomed these therapists from the start. i might be crazy, but unless i say something, no one has a right to make assumptions. had either of them phrased it as a question, they probably would have lasted longer. needless to say, by the time the summer was over, my parents and i had called it a truce, again-no therapy.

after another year and a half, my parents dragged me back to my psychiatrist, who i hated. nothing against him personally, he's actually quite a nice fellow. just that he was a guy. and guys+little sheep=disaster. after refusing medication, he convinced me to try therapist #4. T #4 was a nodder-mm hmmer. if there's one thing i hate in therapy, that's it. if i wanted to talk to a wall, i have plenty at home. four in every room, in fact. why pay someone to be a wall? needless to say, after a few months i convinced her to call my mother and tell her that she wasn't the therapist for me, or something like that.

a few months later, my school started something new: Project Fix Little Sheep. my mother was called down to school, and my teachers, and some other people at school had a whole meeting with her, and they decided to find me a new psychiatrist and therapist. so along came psychiatrist #2, and therapist #5. T #5 was the first one i really liked. of course, two days after seeing her for the first time, i landed myself in the psych ward. she lasted around three quarters of year, then she felt i wasn't getting anywhere with her, and that i needed to try something new.

(to be continued)

positive post

this week i...

~ate two meals for four days in a row

~cleaned my room

~showered myself, without even having the phone with me

~had a friend over one day (thanks ;) )

~went out with friends (thanks 2X ;) )

dear friend

dear "friend"

i used to think i mattered,
but now i'm not so sure,
that i was right in thinking
the way i did before.

i used to think that if one day,
i'd suddenly disappear,
that you'd notice i was gone,
that you would really care.

but now that i don't call,
i don't show my face to you,
i see just how much my friendship
really means to you.

i miss you.
but you don't seem see
maybe that means you are no longer
a true friend to me?

if you would call and tell me
you can't be here anymore
i'd understand it, though
my heart would be so sore

but to just disappear,
as though i never was,
makes me feel rotton
and makes me stop and pause

am i only worth it,
when you need help with preparation?
am i a friend to you,
only from desperation?

no, this friend doesn't read my blog. i can't even tell her about it, or how i feel, cause it's like i've disappeared...i no longer exist.

now

a lot going on right now. in the past, when i had a lot going on, i would write a lot. if you look through my blog, there are some days when i was spewing out four, five poems. now, my mind is just blank. i feel like there's a lot going on. but i have nothing to say. it's like a blank wall is smack in the middle of my mind.

nothing...
nothing...
nothing...

lying

"some people scratch or cut themselves. do you do that?" asks the therapist.
i shake my head no.*
liar.
stupid
freakin
lying
me.


*i don't cut. i do scratch. do half truths count as lies in therapy?

about the poll

i've added a poll to the sidebar. someone asked me recently how many people who read my blog were abused, and i got curious. please vote!

strange things are happening

life is getting stranger by the day.

on my home from therapy, (where i rated my therapy as going nowhere, but that's another story) our car almost got hit by a wheel. or tire. or two tires. two tires on a wheel? whatever it was, the cop sure looked glad when he ran past our (fortunately?) stopped-just in time-car.

when we got home, i was greeted by my father and a cup with five grapes in it. huh? his ruv gave it to him to bring home to me...

strange things are happening in my world...

purim

i wanted so badly to make this purim what it should be.
happy.

and i failed.

crying (again)

it's amazing how when the dam breaks, the stupidest things make me cry. i'm starting to remember the good points of not feeling. crying over how we're packaging our mishloach manos? i really need a life...

back home

'lo everyone.

i'm home again. not sure if it's good or bad. i leave it up to my readers to decide.

When does it end?

away

since i've posted that if you don't hear from me for a while it's probably cause i'm not doing well, i'll just say two things:

1) i'm not doing well.

2) i'm going away for a few days (no, not to a hospital)

miss you all.

crying

tonight i broke my record.
i cried. for one whole minute.
what an accomplishment.
i'll get really far in life with this.













CRASH!!

whatever number i'm up to

ever felt like you just don't want to be?
that's what's happening to me.
i can't find a point, don't you see?
why get up and pretend to be happy
when i only want to cry continuously?

i get up each day, with nothing to do,
just sit and klutz a whole day through,
cause no one needs me, (that's nothing new)
and when i call (maybe even when i call you)
people are busy, and i feel it too.

so here i sit, alone, again
as i will be tomorrow, and i was then.

belief

in the darkness of night
i have to believe that
morning will come...
if not, why go on?

i'm falling so deep
but i have to believe
that i'll be able to get up...
if not, why go on?

but from where should i get this belief?
i believe that morning will come,
because it comes every day.
where should i get the belief that i'll get up...
if i haven't ever gotten up yet?

tired

i'm so tired
of being me
isn't there someone
else i can be?