So I was taking like 4 to 6 St John's wart a day… just so that I could function at work. I was bearly passing by. I became so tired of the crying at my desk. I couldn't keep it up. I just couldn't function.
I've finally reached the point where I was able to ween myself from the pills and actually feel "ok" – I'm not back to being my happy, bubbly, spunk self – but ok is definatly a start. I can actually say that I haven't even THOUGHT about killing myself in days! I know that sounds so sad and horrible… but to me, its like a ray of hope. I always have these months where I crash land just because I am more concerned with caring for others and there problems rather than my own. Not to mention all the things I have been through in my life.
Jay tells me not to let that destroy me. Everyone needs some help now and then. Especially someone like me. And it's ok that I have chemical embalance, so not to feel bad about having to take meds every now and then for them.
I feel so permanently broken. Just strings of abusive relationships. One after another. From my mother, to lovers, to friends… like I said… I'm a cliff and they're all waves that crash against me. But whats worse is that I come off so strong and confident and it seems to attract these people. These people who ware down on me till I am nothing. Till the blade is inches from my skin. Till marks were on my arms. I never hurt myself with the intention to kill… or even the pain being a sedative… when I used to self mutalate it was because my emotions were so in control of my mind that even if I wanted too I couldn't stop the blade from touching my skin. But that was so long ago.
There was one time where Mike drove me to the edge so bad that I sat on the bathroom floor with a knife, crying… cause I felt so crazy and out of control and I knew better than to hurt myself because of someone like him. He never deserved one tear I had shed for him. It was like a sick fu*king game for him. He got off on it. Got off on driving me so crazy that I would do irrational things. Things I hated and things I strived to not do or be. He brought out the worst in me. And he just reveled in it. Even a couple months ago when I sat on the floor with the pills and alcohol… he pretended to care. Told me not too. Begged me not too… told me he was coming over to stop me and then never showed. All I wanted was for someone to hug me and tell me things would be ok. Tell me I was worth something. Feel like he actually loved me and I didn't waste all those years on him.
Now all I can do is rant and cry about it. It actually helps when I do it. I mean it doesn't resolve anything or give me any results… but it does make me feel better somewhat. And I've exhausted the topic with all my friends. A lot of them don't fully understand how I feel. Or what I've gone through. If I could write a book about the three years with Mike, I would. But I'm not good with remembering details. Not to mention a lot of the things he tells me were in my head, even though I know they weren't. He just doesn't want to be known as that horrible monster. He doesn't want people to know the real him. Yet everyone who meets him or has met him – ends up hating him and wishing bad things on him. Which is why I know its not all me.
I want to actually be able to love myself some day. Hopefully be able to love someone else.