To Morrie and Jane,
I am ashamed of myself. This isn't an unfamiliar feeling but that doesn't make it any less powerful. I don't deserve the people I have around me. Poor Mallory, she shouldn't have to deal with me when I am at my worst. Nether should Sam. Although I am not happy with him at the moment - a cloud surrounds us. I can't get through to him. Here are the things that he has said to me recently:
- sometimes I wish I was single
- you're a fat slut
- I looked after you a lot better when you were sick
- better hope I don't get hit by a car on my way home (drunk)
- you cut yourself for attention (drunk)
- she probably wouldn't have thought I would be with someone with that ugly (after some girl looked me up and down at the chemist)
- you just have to take the good with the bad
That last one was after I asked him to stop being mean to me. He says he is sick. I ask why he has to take it out on me? No one else bares witness to this side of him. I call it the "annoying mood" when he is like this, the words hurt, he knows exactly what to say to upset me. It is his goal, he won't stop until I have been broken. Most of the time there is an apology after the mood. But last time there wasn't - I have to take the good with the bad.
I don't blame him for this, I have put him through so much. I am the reacher - he is the settler in the relationship. I don't know were to go to from here though - because I can't let go of some of those things this time - or maybe I never have let go of previous taunts? We established something last time he was extra awful. He apologised and said that he is depressed and he wants to punish himself, so he drinks a dangerous amount and then attacks me, as I am the closest thing to him, therefore attacking himself. It made sense at the time, I was satisfied. Now I'm not so sure. Good with the bad. Good with the bad.
Last night I won 600 dollars. Last night I enjoyed risotto balls. Last night I drank wine with friends. Last night I steamed vegetables and ate them with tomato sauce. Last night I knew everyone at the bar. Last night I was funny and witty. Last night I couldn't find ice cream when I got home. Last night I found the scalpel at the bottom of the bin and used it to cut my wrist again. This time on the vein. This time it will scare and be noticeable. Why? I don't want to die. I am ruining everything for the people around me. I need to pull myself together. I am so ashamed of myself.
We will just put this one down to me being a drunken mess. No one can find out this time. We all know what happened last time when people found out.
First I was sad and the I was interested when I read that the eyes don't see - the brain sees. The eyes are just receptors, just like our ears, nose and skin, they send messages to the brain and WE interpret the messages. How do I know that what I see is real? I make it all up. I picked up an apple, just stared at it, I know what it will taste like if I eat it, I know what the flesh would look like underneath. I would really appreciate it if things weren't so fucking predictable and fake. It's all fake. We just have to distract ourselves. We are all actors. Shit... so first I was sad then I was interested and now I'm sad again.
M.M xox
Dear Morrie and Jane,
I am really regretting the fact that I changed my tip from Richmond to St Kilda, feels like I am betraying Sam in some way. I make ultimatums, I have since Canada. For example, if I tip Richmond then it shows my commitment to me and Sam and that we will start communicating better, it means our problems of late will disappear. I know this is ridiculous, and logic kicks in and I tip St Kilda - but I can't shake the thought. That's why I have started this: firstly because I had to start writing my issues down as advised by you Morrie, you know, to prevent "depersonalisation" happening again, secondly because of you Jane, to get things out of my mind and to somewhere else. Anyway, back to the ultimatums, there are a few examples I remember from childhood (1) if I didn't say "pardon" or "sorry" after didn't someone I would end up in hell, because at some point I would have told mum that I would say this, thus resulting in a lie and therefore, according to the almighty, I'd end up in hell. (2) If dad didn't come home when he was suppose to I would need to hold my breath and stare at some blue sky and say "the chance of anything bad happening is very minimum" - and only then would dad not end up dead and he'd be just help up at work, but it had to be blue or clear sky - or there'd be trouble. The last one I remember at this point (3) is that if I folded my lips together again, someone in my family would die... this is the only way I could break this habit, I still can't bring myself to do it to this day. I know these things point to anxiety issues: there were more ridiculous things I did. But at the time I just thought I was a chosen one who had the burden and responsibility of keeping my surrounding universe together. But of course, then logic kicked in, and I tipped St Kilda.
I am a big picture person, I struggle to see how anyone could be anything else. I guess the same way that people can't see how I can miss some seemingly unimportant details. Example 1: I'll wear a top if it has a small stain - because it is about the whole outfit, Example 2: I am a terrible proof reader. Example 3: I'll value my achievements by what I have done in one year, not one day, I guess that's why I stress about running out of time. If you stand too far back, the chunks of time become bigger, and move faster, you end up righting days off, then weeks and then (you guessed it) you are old and wondering why the fuck you were in such a rush. Time is shit. So constant, always mocking you. You can't argue with it, or control it. It's the train that never runs out of fuel, keeps going even when you stop to take a breath, it pushes on without you. Leaving you trying so hard to get back on. I experienced watching this train first hand. As it moved past I could see things inside the train moving along as normal, there was Sam, I knew I should and have loved him, and I did love the idea of him, but the connection was broken, because he was on the train and I wasn't. Other faces popped up, I knew them all, I grouped them all into the "people" basket. I could have thrown a rock at the train... in an attempt to get them to notice that I wasn't on it. But that would have damaged things, by how much, I'm not sure, I was together enough to know not to take that risk. So I threw a rock at myself. It seemed logical at the time. I don't think you Morrie understand how this made it harder to get back on the train, because it damaged me, confirmed me as someone or something different, that didn't have a spot on the train with the un-rock-damaged "people".
I am back on now. Although close to the door and slightly damaged by the rock I threw at myself, but the important thing is that I am back on board... trying to explain my absence to Sam and Mallory.
Meanwhile, Richmond are winning. Fuck.
M.M. xox
