I had a psychiatrist appointment today. She had me start Lamictal last time I was there but I stopped taking it because I decided I didn’t like it. Honestly, I’m thinking about quitting the rest of my meds and also therapy.
Reason being is that, those asshole kids from yesterday made me realize something. It doesn’t matter how hard I work to overcome my past, to move forward, I’m not even a person. What’s the point of getting over one rape when the next thing I have to worry about is one of the many times I was sexually assaulted or forced to do sexual favours or was molested or beat or treated less than human.
What’s the point when there will always be one more thing to work on, one more issue that needs to be fixed. Even if I manage to get over, to move beyond all the shit that I’ve dealt with in my life, I’m still stuck in that cycle of not being good enough and only being seen as something to be used, rather than a person with their own hopes and dreams.
Then there’s the fact that I keep fucking shutting down and I stop talking when I’m trying to do the Imaginal exposure thing. Maybe it’s because I was raised to never, ever talk about such things. Don’t talk about what goes on at home with Oniisan touching me inappropriately or my dad and mum beating me or the neglect or the piss poor living conditions. Don’t tell the various therapists about the many times my dad overdosed in front of me and my brother, the many times we were forced to play the role of parents when we hadn’t even hit double digits yet.
There’s the endless shame. Being molested by my brother and my babysitter. Being bullied at school. Being raised to believe that it’s the victim’s fault. That it’s my fault for not being a ‘good kid’. I let myself get into situations where I am nothing but trash, a thing to be used and then tossed aside.
Old coworkers insisting on me giving them blow jobs and hand jobs to get home. So called friends taking me to unfamiliar places and backing me into corners where, if I said no, they would have left me. Being at the homeless shelter and being passed from guy to guy as a sex object. Thank the gods the most that happened there was being groped and kissed.
Being gaslit all the time. You know the drill. Constantly being told that something happened that never happened or something that never happened had happened. Being told that my experiences were too storybook to be real. The endless finger pointing and being blamed for everything.
I’ve been crying a lot intermittently. I feel so hopeless and helpless and like there is absolutely no reason for me to even try any more. I’m constantly switching from numb, to dissociated, to depressed, to uncaring, to the verge of being suicidal. Thoughts of cutting myself are way more frequent than they had been in ages.
If I didn’t hold keeping promises in such high regard, I am scared to think what I would have done already.
I feel like giving up. I feel like there was an attempt and that attempt just wasn’t good enough so I should just quit and stop wasting everyone’s time.
I feel stupid and worthless and a poor excuse of a person. I feel like I’m nothing. I feel defective and I feel like I will never get better.
I feel lost. I feel like I don’t matter.
I feel like crying.
-The Sarcastic Autist