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Inner Dialogue

I always have an inner dialogue going on with multiple points of view and arguments, often overlapping. When I’m high, these voices slow down enough that I can understand them better, and sometimes recognize which parts of me they’re coming from, which helps me to look critically at their motivations.

The following started as notes to read to my therapist next session from a high realization I had, and it turned into a written dialogue in therapy style. I’m posting it here for me to read at some point in the future, whether for my therapist or for myself.

“Confidence. Right now, I am not confident in my ability to handle discomfort in any form; when it’s hard, I feel like I can’t cope. I am also afraid that I will fail, and that the people I care about will judge me. It is irrational; the people I care about, also care about me.

I view things in black and white, good and bad. If something is Bad, no matter how bad it actually is, I will feel like I am Suffering, and the only solution is to stop the thing or Suffer indefinitely. When something is Good, I am familiar with it, I am confident in my ability to handle it, and confident that those around me will not judge, and so even if it’s difficult, it is not a Bad Thing.

Why does it matter if I fail? Because even if people say failure is mandatory, it is still embarrassing in the moment, and I don't want that.

Why is it embarrassing? I feel like they're judging me secretly, the way I judge people before reminding myself not to think that way.

Why does it matter? If moments like that happen too often, they pile up and lead to resentment, but they Care about me and therefor will deny it if I say something.

Why is it your responsibility to control their opinion of you? It's my responsibility because, in my philosophy, if you want something done and nobody's doing it, do it yourself.

Why do you care if they stay, if they won't put in the work to not resent you (communicating)? Because I'm afraid to be alone, when I don't feel like I can handle the world without constant support and spotting.

Is there anything a loved one could say or do to reassure you? I don't think so; no matter what they say, if I think that it's prompted by my behavior, I will believe that I've manipulated them into saying it.

How can you challenge that belief? I can continue to remind myself that I cannot read their minds, and that they are their own people who are responsible for their own choices and opinions. If they are unable to communicate to me that resentment is building, that is not my responsibility. It is also not my responsibility to try and monitor their opinion of me in general.

Which will matter more to you on your death bed: how many people had a good opinion of you, or what you chose to do and experience in your own life? Obviously the latter; ideally, I should see the world as my oyster, seize the day and charge towards my goals!

What would that look like for you? I don't know; I'm comfortable in my life right now, but not content.

What are some things that might help you feel content? Continuing my hands-on hobbies, such as painting (on canvas, on computer, on my walls, or by number), and in the long term, I want to successfully live on my own at some point, whether at school or in an apartment.

What would "success" in that look like for you? Being able to maintain my occupation (work or school) over a long period of time, as well as my health in all aspects, and manage the basic necessities of living away from my parents.

Why don't you take a leap of faith and go back to school, where that structure is handed to you? Because last time I tried that, I returned to being suicidal and self destructive and desperate to escape the Suffering that was that life, despite looking back at individual events and seeing that there was also plenty of good.

Why do think you felt that way? It was really hard to maintain the energy necessary to do well in my classes, and trying to do so became unbearable.

What about moving out to an apartment now and working? With childcare pay, in this economy? Get real.

Plenty of people do it with less. I'm afraid to; what if I fail? I might lose my apartment and have Failed. I might have food scarcity, and that very idea terrifies me. I might lose a big important job.

Why not ask for help if those situations arise? That feels like admitting that I failed.

And? If I fail too many times and keep asking for help, resentment will grow, etc. and I might lose that support.

Why does it matter, if you're too afraid to use that support anyway? Because at least, if I spend my life striving not to get too many strikes against me, I can always have them as a last line in an emergency. Besides, these are people who also  help me in so many other ways, and losing them would be losing everything.

So you feel like their love and support is conditional on your success? Not entirely; they've made it clear they'll love me no matter what, but you can love and resent someone at the same time, like I do my mother.

Ah, it always comes back to the parents, eh? I hate that my problems boil down to cliches.

Why is it bad to be cliche? People will judge me- right, we already discussed that. It’s Cringey, but I know cringe culture is bad and everything, I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

What’s your takeaway from this? That I wasn’t on the right medication at the time, and more than likely, those same situations will be more tolerable once I find the right chemical balance stuff.

What about aside from medication? I really don’t know; when I’m in those situations, it genuinely feels intolerable, and nothing I’ve tried for non-destructive coping works long term. The only reason the destructive coping works is because I sabotage the bad situation until it’s done and I escape The Suffering. I don’t know how to cope with an unbearable situation that I can do little to alleviate.

School and work don’t have to be all-or-nothing things; you can do menial jobs that don’t stress you out the same, or online school? I’m afraid that the self destructive part of me will still find a way to make those things seem Bad, which will flip that mental switch and it will be Intolerable Suffering and I’ll fail or quit eventually, which just leaves me feeling like a failure and in an even worse emotional state.

Sounds like you need to focus on those internal things first then; confidence and positive coping skills. What, like I haven’t been trying for the last several years? Genuinely trying, at least as far as I can tell? Obviously I doubt myself sometimes, think that I’m just being a crybaby and faking it all for attention, so much so that I even trick myself into believing that it’s genuine, and-

Yeah alright maybe medication is important here. And continuing to remind myself of these same facts, over and over again, these same mantras until I brute force my brain into believing them, but it hasn’t happened yet so will it ever? Will I be stuck in a constant state of maintenance for the rest of my life? Will I ever truly feel like I’m in control of my own life and mind?

What if you don’t? Then the cycle repeats.

I’m so tired. They say this doesn’t last forever; everybody feels like this at our age. ...But that means what I’m feeling isn’t original, and therefor I have no right to complain about it ever, because everyone else also goes though this exact same situation-

Is that true? I know it’s not true! It still feels that way though! If other people Suffer more than me and deal with it like adults, then I should be able to, too.

How do you know they deal with it any better than you do? Because other people are capable of getting degrees and holding down full time jobs.

You’re capable of that too, with enough accommodations, support, and time. It’s unrealistic to expect the real world to bend over backwards for my needs. If I can’t adapt to the world, then I don’t deserve to be a part of it.

There’s that confidence issue again. Pesky little shit.

What’s the conclusion here? Keep trying to find better ADHD medication, and keep working on my confidence, as well as continuing to practice positive coping skills instead of following self destructive impulses (which adhd meds would also help with). Also keep practicing re-evaluating situations that seem black or white and look for what generalizations or assumptions you might be making that make this harder than it needs to be.

Should I even post this, or share it with Hayley? Or keep it like a diary entry rather than seeking external validation for it? Just let me live and overshare pls”

August 22, 12:04 am

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u kno when u suddenly feel horrible and ur not sure why bc nothing bad happened ??? and u kinda

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body horror talk ahead, just fyi.

I’m at that point where I want to rip myself open. It’s not often I get like this, and it’s not as though I have the strength to act on it. not emotional strength, but like literal physical strength, since i currently want nothing more than to rip my skull in half like a broken melon and gouge out my brain. maybe then it’d be quiet for fucking once in my life

i remember once a few years ago feeling similarly but for my heart. i was big into undertale at the time and did a lot of writing involving souls as little tangible hearts; this is relevant only because I think it’s why i had an episode where i was clawing at my chest, and desparately wishing I could pull my soul out of my body and just fucking tear it in half in my hands. my chest literally ached with the need for it, so much pressure i needed to release, and it’s times like these i’m (eventually) grateful that I bite my nails. one pro to a bad habit, it keeps my *other* self destructive habits from being as effective. sure hasn’t helped my scalp much though, over the last couple of years.

i try to let myself feel it. i try to lay there quietly, acknowledge it, feel it, listen to what this part of me is trying to say. but it doesn’t help. she just keeps drilling relentlessly how i’m in such a no-win situation, how desperately i crave being witnessed and validated by others but how terrified i am of coming off like the pathetic fuck i feel like i am. i don’t feel like I can talk about it, and when I do, it’s always brief and followed up by reassurances that it’s *fine* i’ll be *fine* because I know i will, eventually, but fuck if it doesn’t hurt right now. but then, even if I do talk about it, and someone does comfort me? god, it’s awful, because then she’s yelling instead about how it doesn’t matter, it’s not true, it’s not real because I *asked* for them to comfort me and therefor they’re obligated to and there’s literally nothing that person could say or do to convince me i’m not just burdening them

i want to be violent, i want to take a hammer to my bedroom walls and smash them to bits, but then i’d choke on the dust and my poor fucking fragile little self would be breathing Bad Air and we can’t fucking have that can we princess. fucking spoilt little princess who has everything she could ever ask for handed to her on a platter and i can’t handle it. i can’t fucking handle it and I don’t know why. i think that’s the worst part, i know it’s irrational and that my emotions matter and blah fucking blah, but it doesn’t feel like it, it feels like i’m an entitled little crybaby who can’t handle the world, and yknow what? i am. no matter how many times I try and make myself do things that hurt, it never gets easier, I never toughen up. i want to go numb, i know i can, i know i could, but that would be giving up, wouldn’t it? I’d be turned off to the world until something forced me back awake, and I know the pain of that all coming to a head would be worse than what I’m feeling now.

i want to bleed. i want to have the guts to go deep, for once in my life. i’m a coward. i know it’s not Good, I know it’s not helpful, I know my therapist will tell me to move my knife back out into the god damn living room so little miss emotional can’t get to it as impulsively. i’m only interested in my arm, but i know that would be seen. it’s summer, the heat hates me, i can’t wear sleeves. my mom told me she’d considered having me admitted last time, i think because I go long instead of across. but I didn’t even bleed. she would try and admit me for scratches? for little baby fucking marks on my skin that were gone within the week? i hate this, i don’t know how to feel better other than to ignore it, but the more i do the more it builds and grows and im reaching a tipping point but I can’t let myself but god I want to and I hate it

7/8/21 8:05 pm

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I just came to the realization that, in my entire life, the single biggest threat to my own health and safety has been myself. My own self destructive thoughts and tendencies are my biggest threat and obstacle in life, and honestly? I hate that so much. It means I have nobody to blame, nothing to point at as my enemy, except my own damn self.

And the worst part? Knowing this doesn't change a damn thing, because deep down I've always known this, and re-realize it over and over and over... And then I slip back into the cycle, and I forget. I hate forgetting. I don't trust any aspect of myself: I can't trust my brain to be reliable in memory or in helping me, I can't trust my body to keep me from harm or discomfort, I can't trust my emotions from going off the rails at the slightest provocation. I'm at constant war with myself, and I'm just so tired, every day.

I laid in my bed last night, high out of my mind and incredibly uncomfortable. I thought about what I was feeling right then: dizzy, physically paralyzed, mentally scattered, unable to focus long enough to form most coherent thoughts, except in passing. And you know what I realized? That state of intense discomfort, where I felt completely and entirely out of control of myself? It was better than being sober. Sure, I don't like being that high and usually try to avoid it... But I would trade that for laying awake with my own sober thoughts any day. And I HATE that. I can't stand losing control, I can't stand feeling like I'm helpless... But it takes away the blame, doesn't it? It takes away the responsibility to be better.

At least when I'm high, I have something other than myself to blame.

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so. had an interesting night. was getting gabe into bed when i heard a commotion at the front door, went out when done with gabe to investigate. mom's sitting in the living room, dad standing in the hallway, both listening to this girl on our couch. it was hard to tell how old she was, but i'd guess a couple years older than me, wearing great makeup with a designer(?) bag on her hip, talking a mile a minute about what apparently brought her to our door. at almost 1 am.

i only caught the tail end of her story, but it was disjointed and not much really added up. gist was that her ex boyfriend had been chasing her, and she sprinted until she found somewhere to hide, and hoped our lights being on meant someone was awake. she was texting her cousin to come pick her up as she told us this, in our house maybe 15 minutes total.

then she said she heard her cousin's car, and went out to see him. 2 cars were parked fairly far up the street, far enough we couldnt see people or plates. we heard her say "leave me alone!", then cars were maneuvering to leave.

now. that sounds fucking awful, and i wanted to call the cops just in case, but my parents said no, and here are a few reasons why.

one, the girl wasnt acting right through any of it. she never calmed, talking fast and fidgeting constantly, saying it was the adrenaline. never met any of our eyes more than briefly. and while that behavior alone certainly isnt bad (even if its apparently not typical for the situation she descrived, according to my psych nurse mother who'd been trying gently to help her calm down and de-escalate the entire time), it doesnt look good with the rest.

two, her story made absolutely no sense. while i only caught the end, mom recounted to me the basics, and it jumps all over the place. mom had been asking clarifying questions throughout, and her narrative jumped around and made no chronological sense. talked about giving her ex a ride to his hotel, but then he was harrassing her, so she called the cops and they didnt arrest him, but then she was at a gas station and ditched both him and her car to get away from him. and yet, somehow at the same time, she was at her cousin's house, who she also apparently ran away from. neither into the house or gas station, mind you, but instead down the road and into neighborhoods. she also was completely unable to tell us where this gas station was, because fun fact, there arent any within any kind of sprinting distance from our house. there was also an empty parking lot mentioned in there somewhere, of which there are very few around here, definitely not in sprinting distance either.

three, she used too many details where it didnt matter. now, this one was what made me switch into being suspicious of her; while it isnt a big deal, she was telling odd bits of info with her background that were completely unnecessary, and tripped my "she's lying" alarms, like her child's exact birthday, the job she had and lost with covid, that she lives with her grandmother. its not *abnormal*, but it didnt fit, i dont know how else to really explain except that it wasnt right.

four, she wouldnt tell us her cousin's name. casually asked, and her exact wording was "oh, he doesn't like giving his real name out to people". we asked so that we could vet if it was him before letting her out to him, for her safety.

five, she was adamant that she didnt want to call the cops, bc of how they didnt arrest him before so they wouldnt help now. which, completely on its own would be understandable, but with everything else? nah.

six, when we heard a car go past the house, she ran straight outside and up the street to it. this was despite us suggesting multiple times that she look through the window first to verify, that she wait for the car to come back down the street, or for us to go first and see if it was her cousin. no, she ignored allllll of that, going right out of any range where we could help her without a second thought, and then yelling before presumably being pulled into a car we couldnt see well. if this wasnt some kind of setup, then damn, she's really got no sense of self preservation.

all in all, it just felt wrong. her behavior, her story, the lack of details where it mattered but abundance where it didn't, the blatantly ignored advice on things that would keep her safe, the pointed distance of the cars from our house, everything. and in the end, there wasnt anything we could really report if we'd wanted to; that a girl came in, told us a story, then shouted and got in a car? it was too far (and too smokey, fucking wildfires) to even see how she entered the vehicle, whether she was pulled in or what. and there were 2; was it the ex boyfriend and also her cousin? how could boyfriend have found her here if she only sent the location to the cousin?

so. working theories are that maybe the core of her story was true, but the inconsistencies come from purposely avoided details; maybe drugs are involved? if so, it'd help explain her behavior, why she wouldnt give out her cousin's "real name", and why the story was so disjointed. unreliable narrator, or she was skipping incriminating details.

theory two (by my mom, which i personally dont agree with) is that she and her ex are in some dramatic sort of game thing, where she wants to be chased for the drama of it all. doesnt explain her weird story though.

theory three, this was all some kind of setup, with her "exboyfriend" and "cousin" being accomplices. only problem with that is, accomplices to *what?* she didnt steal anything, didnt gain anything from her time with us. sure, she saw inside the house a bit, couldve been keeping an eye out for valuables, but why us? we just happened to be awake at one in the morning for this? she wouldnt have been able to see anything worth stealing, anyway, aside from my mom's broken laptop maybe. all she would've learned is that there's 4 of us living here with a barking dog.

whatever it was, the worst case scenario is that she got grabbed by her ex, but the 2 cars and timing suggest highly that her cousin was literally right there too, meaning someone she seems to trust was witness and able to help her more than we could. just in case it was scoping for a robbery, we locked up the house tight and i have a crowbar.

more than anything it was just unnerving. in all likelyhood that'll be the end of it, but there's a chance that some other shoe will drop, and that's leaving all of us uneasy.

9/13/20 4:58 am

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am i being a little bitch about it or am i actually allowed to be hurt by that: a novel by me

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and guess what? guess what? that convo came up just barely after she listened to me talk about how im stagnant rn and struggling with that, but ultimately, feel ok with taking a little while to wait out the pandemic before i keep trying to progress. that i feel bad sitting at home (even if im technically working by taking care of Gabe every single night), and she agreed. told me it was understandable and ok that im taking it slow, waiting for a better time to keep moving. and then she launches into the amazon shit.

even earlier, we'd been talking about my issues with self discipline, and how i've been trying to work on them. how, most of the time, i DO try to avoid stressful situations for one simple reason: if there's a better alternative, then why should i choose the harder thing? why should i subject myself to hardship if there is a perfectly viable other option? the vast majority of the time, there is. and SHE'S the one who taught my that, every single time I've ever come to her with a problem.

you're in a situation that's bad? what can you do to fix it? can you change it, or do something else? time and time and time again, she's drilled into me (whether intentionally or not) that the solution to hardship is finding another solution. so that's what I do, whenever possible. and now she's angry, so personally offended, that I struggle to willingly subject myself to stressful or uncomfortable situations when there are clear alternatives?

i'm not opposed to suffering when it's necessary. there have been many times in my life where I've sacrificed for something that was worth it to me, that I saw no clear "better" answer to. maybe not in huge, obvious ways, because oftentimes the things I deem necessary are small; the big things have always, so far, had alternatives. i've been raised in a priveleged

hah. haaaah. literally as i was typing that, she barged into my room and started lecturing me again. dropped her phone in my face and told me to read about an amazon internship thing, just so that i "know its an option" repeating over and over to me about how there are sooo many amazon jobs out there right now.

and then? and then she ranted, about how pissed off she is that i "refuse to do a hard job", that i'm "spoiled and too protected" to refuse such a thing. i just kept my face passive and listened, didnt even try and say a word until she was done, simply saying "I hear you" because I know damn well that's all she's willing to hear right now.

yes, i'm protected, and fucking god damn i have so many issues stemming from my fear of having been spoiled. yknow whats funny? whats just so fucking funny? the only other time shes ever called me spoiled was when i admitted to self harm. when i confided in her that i didnt know how to handle my stress and was afraid i was going to hurt myself further if i didnt get help. her response was just to stare at me and ask, "did we spoil you?". I guess she's answered her own fucking question, hasn't she.

is it spoiled to think i have control? have options? to try and choose a path that doesn't hurt, if i have that choice? she didnt have those choices, so she endured pain, and learned to handle it. i have those choices, so now I avoid pain, and don't know how to handle it when it does come. it's a problem that I cant handle stress, and I KNOW it is, i have been CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR about that. how I'm trying to work on it, trying to learn to cope, to gain self discipline, that I am actively seeking help about it. i sacrifice when i need to, but dont know how to handle the fallout, and its a problem. yes. maybe its because im a spoiled, priveleged, immature, selfish little shit. is it my fault? is it how i was raised, or is it inherent? is it both?

is it so fucking wrong to try and protect myself when i can? to not subject myself to immense stress, physical or emotional, if there's a perfectly viable alternative? am i selfish because I'm unwilling to suffer simply for the principle of it?

sometimes i want to join a mission or something, get sent out to a third world country where i dont have a choice. when the only option is discomfort, but it's for a good cause, where i can learn by immersion to handle stress and discomfort while also doing something worthwhile. but then i hear about how missions are just modern day colonialism, spreading religion where its unwelcome whilst stealing local jobs and opportunities. "saving" people who dont need or want to be saved. and its not like id even be going with the main objective of "saving", I'd be going bc im selfish and so fucking privileged that the only way i can honestly experience harsh living conditions is by going out of my way to seek them out. otherwise i can always just backtrack and go to my comfy home with my loving family where i can afford to sit on my ass and be selfish and have little to no repercussions.

i make myself sick. and its over things i didnt even choose. does that make it better or worse?

9/12/20 6:04pm

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l o l love hearing my mom talk shit about me in another room bc she earlier told me i should get a job at amazon. i told her that i've only heard bad things about it and would rather not if i have a choice, and she just LOCKED onto it, going on and on lecturing me about how "it would be hard and stressful but thats life and you take what you can get", i emphasise that part of what i've heard is that it ISNT SAFE, she immediately starts tearing into me about my sources "if youve only heard employees who are complaining, how many out there arent that you dont know about?" and "thats the opposite of everything I've heard about it". so when i had the chance i left the room to stop engaging.

so now i hear her ranting to my dad about how "a MATURE ADULT takes jobs they dont like when they have to" and all the shit jobs shes had to do in her life, but she grit her teeth and did them.

the kicker for me is that i never said i was unwilling to do it; hell, it hadnt even occurred to me until she started accusing me about why i wasnt trying that angle, and why i got defensive about it as an idea from the limited knowledge i have on it. objectively, yes, i havent done research. it hadnt been on my mind! im still stagnant on whether i should even be looking for jobs, if its safe and if ill be here or in florida! the main thing though? i told her "I hadn't been considering it", and instead of hearing that as I meant it, she heard it as me being an immature little shit who isnt willing to do hard work when its necessary.

well guess what? she only deems it necessary to begin with because SHE decided she just HAS to go running off to florida, during a fucking PANDEMIC, bc shes afraid of the civil unrest and shit going on around us. shes uncomfortable and uncertain about her life, so its time to upend the rest of ours, out of the blue demanding i get a job and give all my income to the house bc of how *expensive* paying for 2 households will be. right, which wouldnt be a problem if you werent so fucking intent on splitting up the house! its not that im unwilling to sacrifice and be uncomfortable to help my family in a time of need; its that this time of need is ENTIRELY bc of her own decisions against ours. its not real. does she have valid reasoning? yes, she does. does that mean that she has the right to demand we bend to her erratic, ever-changing plans to do drastic shit? no! we bend so much for her whims, bc we love and support and respect her, but when we draw boundaries bc of how much her whims genuinely put us out, we're being selfish. fuck off.

9/12/20 5:23pm

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my life has been a fun guessing game lately. "you feel like shit! which of the following is the cause; is it Depression? Dehydration? Disease? or maybe it's the general Doom surrounding your life and the world? how about all of the above?"

on a different note, at least, ive been feeling more poetic lately. maybe ill spit something out about it; i havent seriously written poetry (outside of english assignments) since elementary school. just need to get past the part of me that sneers at any kind of creative works i want to make

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Pretty much

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I doodled this out a while ago but it’s always at least a little relevant to life.

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to everyone asking if what they went through was ‘really’ trauma: it was. if you feel you were traumatised by it, then it was trauma. there’s nothing more to it than that