No I am not avoiding you.
This is cathartic. It helps me process my feelings and thoughts. It lets me vent. And sometimes I’m validated by a reader.
I’ve been avoiding myself.
Ok we all ready know my feelings on the word crazy–I prefer either mentally hilarious or personality instead. But I agree that that aforementioned statement just sounds whack.
I am the master of avoidance. It is my go to technique.
In DBT group last year, I was the one who lead that lesson. Because I am pro.
But avoidance truly is a coping skill.
And damnit it got me through these past few weeks.
My therapist, you remember the newbie who is still fresh on the scene to the Cassie story, tried at one point to “bring me to reality” that everyone everywhere suffers and that I am not the only one who does.
First off, never said that. Secondly, I validate that, but I said that in my life I have recognized that my life is filled with nothing but horrors and is randomly speckled with positives which I’m constantly fighting to find; sometimes it’s too much.
She didn’t believe it.
Until she finally listened.
Like when I had RSV, that I got from coworkers [who got it from a patient], then had to take my car in for repairs and they lied about it and it was out for 4 days more than they said it would be, then was fighting for my physical therapy appointment because they cancelled for no reason, then told I had to go in for urgent eye surgery [again!!], all while fighting an elated Ed’s voice. There was more but I don’t remember because my memory is shot.
That’s just my life.
I have radically accepted it.
But sometimes I come back around and I’ll get sad by things.
Because it straight up sucks.
SO HERE IS CASSIE EN BREF:
- I had eye surgery, again, same shit different eye. Molluscum contagiosum.
- Turns out I have molluscum contagiosum all over my body. I had a full on OCD panic attack and clawed at my face. Hashtag fail.
- This has led to even more body image issues because I feel dirty and it looks like I am a teenager with serious acne all over my chest, torso, neck, shoulders, and face.
- And I haven’t worn makeup in almost a year. Not good for the anorexic trying to cover up and feel pretty. To not be seen as me all flawed.
- Huge melt down by Dramama. Somehow my fault.
- Other coworkers smelled my blood in the water and came after me. Trying to say I’m incompetent and can’t do my job. Didn’t matter that I had escalated asking for help and they all refused. They all played victim.
- I’m so sick of nonvictims playing victims in the situation. Because somehow it always ends up my fault.
- Then turns out my boss straight up had told my coworkers to not talk to me because they “distract” me and I need to do my job. So they feared for their jobs. I was isolated.
- I went to work angry and bitter. Couldn’t win. Well still can’t. Not sure how me wanting there to be a positive and happy work environment is such a bad thing. I throw parties and organize out of office events. I’m such a bitch. Quick ignore her!
- I fell in the shower, again.
- My breathing isn’t getting much better
In summary, toxic work environment. Cannot breathe and still injured from falls so unable to exercise. This leaves me feeling extremely fat and the door open for Ed’s voice. I have molluscum contagiosum [from someone else’s house towels or the massage place I go to] so I can’t wear makeup until it’s all gone. I can’t cover up my insecurities or make myself up with false confidence. Feeling really ugly. My trust is just so fucked up as if it wasnt to start with because of all the stuff at work.
So what did I do with all this in my plate?
I lived minute to minute because it was all I could process; all I could do from losing it.
Thus, I apologize for not being as bloggy and transparent through this whole process as some may have liked.
But this is how I do when I’m drowning.