I internalized all the bad things they said to me. I hear them, I feel them. But I don’t feel the good. That’s it in a nutshell. I watch the “good” Grace from outside of this body and I don’t know her, I don’t see her as part of me. I have no idea who she is even though she is “me”. Instead I carry around this sense of ‘badness’ that was drilled into my head for so many years: You are bad. You will never be anything. You are worthless. You are an evil whore. You are unlovable. No one will ever care about you. And I see that as the “real” Grace. I believed those things and I built walls to keep people out so they would not see the “real” me…the badness. But I still see that girl. ... »View More
I felt tired and empty and aching and oh.so.alone in this struggle. Life is so damn painful sometimes and yet we still are supposed to stay here, people are still “counting” on us to put on a happy face and carry on with our head and chin rasied! NO! You must not deter from LIVING even in the face of Hurricane Earl and gale-force winds that tear through your body and blacken your soul. I walk on this path where madness and insanity are the only stepping stones. And the voices get louder with each step I take. They speak in familiar tones telling me how much I am hated, loathed, despised, unlovable. And I know…I know how close I come…when my vision becomes wavy and the voices grow louder and the counting begins…Everyone... »View More
Like really afraid? I do. Every single night I feel like I am being hunted, sought after, prey. I never relax. I never sleep soundly. I startle at the wind blowing through the blinds. I constantly look around, trying to find the danger, trying to anticipate where the attack will come from. It will come. Have you ever been hunted like game? Have you ever been caught and attacked by the hunter? If you haven’t had the pleasure you don’t really know fear. I watch a lot of scary movies… a lot. That’s what it feels like for me at night. HERE. IN.MY.REAL.LIFE.NIGHTS…not a movie. You know in those movies where you scream at the woman not to go into that room, not to go outside, not to open that door? And you watch... »View More
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Bout what you ask? Bout the last conversation with the therapist. The one where she said I didn’t have to take the MWB’s card, or call her. I lied. I lied about the therapist “hearing” and “caring” enough to understand we could never ever ever (in a bazillion years) call that dbtmarshalovingfatbitch. That conversation never happened. I wish it would’ve. But it didn’t. I even asked a couple of friends if I was being too sensitive or “enraged” about the *back up* T situation…and everyone said no. My admin said she thinks the therapist does shit like that on purpose, my friend P said therapist should know how I feel about that bitch, my friend L said, “Whatheff….Therapist would have been better off picking... »View More
The past week as I have been wallowing in self pity and shame the therapist has been attempting to give me some tips on how to effectively manage the internal war and how to care for that stupid bratty kid in her absensce. Good and useful tips too, not your usual bullshit. Like, for example, it’s probably a good idea for the 5 year old to hide during her stay at Susan Smith’s daycare in case of an *accidental* drowning. Talk and *soothe* that bitch sweet kid when when she *cries* for the therapist – can someone hand me a razor pacie and blankie to take care of that whiny bratty bitch sweet innocent little girl? And she also said, “Life is short…Play Hard!” (Or maybe that was Nike…I’m... »View More
Tonight I walk a dreadfully narrow & fragile tight rope and there often there is no safety net beneath me. And as such, a slight wind will often make me stumble and fall right back into the cavernous black hole that I spent a significant amount of time climbing out of. I used to be so thick skinned, but my skin seems to have been scoured into a transparent epidermis that now barely covers my flesh. And I don’t know why words seem to rip right through that now clear layer of covering and sear through the sensitive tissue beneath. But they do, and just like that, I am back in a place where I feel like I must punish myself. And I want to feel the pain externally on my body because the interpretations of the verbal words I hear resonate through... »View More
But I have to warn you, it’s bland and tepid in here now. I’ve nothing to share now to charm you with my wit. I’ve no interesting statistics to impress you with my intellect. There are no good stores…nothing compelling. Only misery, deep, vast, endless pain. I’m really not well. The demons inside my head continue to scream and eventually they will tear me to pieces. There is nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that. The nightmares are horrendous, the shame unspeakable. My jaw aches, my hips ache, my head aches. I am really not well. The all-consuming parts of me have drowned out the logical adult Grace and she is nowhere to be found. If I could only identify where in my body these unspeakable parts reside,... »View More
Life is not running smoothly at the moment. I feel alone, directionless and desperate. I am worn out, emotionally and physically. Sometimes the burden of “keeping myself safe” is too heavy. It is asking too much of me to “manage” all of follies, the nightmares, the triggers, the shame, the embarrassment, the rage – the internal voices who scream and cry and rage…all with no support. It is too much! And trying to avoid all of that shit is like avoiding breathing, which I wouldn’t mind doing right now. Something has to give. There is only so much one person can deal with day in and day out every single day and night! There is only so much! I am not equipped to handle an entire Pie of Crazy. The therapist... »View More
This post is set to self destruct in T-10Ds…as am I. I should also warn you that it this is a very insane crazybrain ranting that you should ignore altogether. I, on the other hand, cannot ignore it, since it is happening INSIDE OF ME! Oh how I wish it were not so…. I have been sitting here for 30 minutes methodically cutting vicodin and seroquel in half and listening to this fucking new-age relaxation music and I cannot relax. Go figure! Long ago I scrounged up the money I needed to purchase some emotional armor and some bricks. I used those bricks to build a safehouse for my soul. Protection ~ a soul-fortress. I knew that inside that fortress there was damage, and that the emotional armor was only going to work for... »View More








