The End and The Beginning

•August 11, 2015 • 1 Comment

***As usual, this is a brain fart and probably littered with grammar errors and all that bollocks but watevs***

Tomorrow afternoon I have my final counselling session. I’m actually eligible to receive counselling until the end of the month, but I’m finishing early, which is a decision made by me and agreed with by my counsellor. We agreed that I am a completely different person to who I was when I first walked into the room, from the way I enter, the way I hold myself and the way I talk. I feel different, better. Not new, because I’m not a new person. I’m still me but I’m now not full of sadness and stress and anxiety and fear and loneliness. So I’m finishing my counselling because I honestly believe that right now I don’t need it anymore.

This time last year, the weeks/months/years preceding, and the weeks after right up until I started talking about it, I no longer wanted to exist. I described it as being too tired to deal with anything anymore and just hoping that one day I would cease to exist. I look back on that time weirdly now. It feels like it was someone else’s mind, someone else’s fears and thoughts that were inside my head pretending to be me and I was the only one who heard it. The constant drone of not being in control of anything and not being able to cope no matter how hard I tried to keep hold of everything. I was so obviously drowning and I never really realised what was happening for so long, to the point where I was floating on the bottom of a sea of emptiness. A metaphor that probably makes no sense to anyone but those who have felt the same thing.

It took what seemed like forever to happen, but I started the counselling as you probably know if you’ve been through the rest of my posts, talking about everything that was affecting me, everything that had affected me for so many years. Underlying how I reacted to situations and people and experiences and changing how I approached everything. Everything. Funny when I think about it. So many aspects of my personality were just coping mechanisms that I crated for myself so I didn’t have to deal with what was going on. Either ignoring it, keeping stuff stored away so I didn’t have to think about it again, or making it my issue to deal with. What a fucking mess my mind was. No wonder I spent so often feeling nothing, it was easier than feeling everything.

When it works (and I know it doesn’t work for everyone) it’s like someone going along a circuit board and turning all of the switches back on. All it took was the mains to go, but one by one every light in the house is coming back on you can see everything again, or even for the first time. I only now realise how fucking exhausting it was being me.

It wasn’t just the counselling either, I started to challenge the way I thought when I needed to, talking myself out of states, preparing myself when I knew I’d be in a situation I might find uncomfortable. And, you know, there are changes I want to make in my life, but I can’t control those changes as much as I thought I could before. I’m letting life find it’s own way now. What I will do is use this place as my sounding board in the future. I’ll always have anxiety and sometimes it’ll get to me, but talking works for me, so I’m going to stick with it. Need to look after myself more now.

I’m going to look back at the past year and wonder how I let myself get to the point I did. It wasn’t one thing, it was so many, and I can’t let myself get to that point again. I’m worth so much more than the nothing I felt. So much more. And so is anyone reading this.

I’m Orbette, I am awesome, brains are dickheads and everything is fucking fine.

Different

•July 10, 2015 • 1 Comment

This is a relatively short post as it’s been a couple of days since my last session, due to the fact that I’ve had to go out and have a nice time with friends and all that bollocks. So I don’t know how much I can remember apart from the major thing really, the fact that I feel different.

I think it’s very like losing weight. You can lose enough of an amount for it to be noticeable to others, and they’ll comment, but to you you just look exactly the same as you did before. Albeit lighter I suppose. Which is probably where I am now with my mind. My landlady told me that she see’s something different in me at the moment, like I’m not carrying the weight of the world on my back, and my counsellor said something similar. He said I had an energy this week, and held myself better and began to seem more at ease with myself. I’d had a few good days and had some reassuring words and offers which have helped improve my situation massively so I’ve just felt a bit more relaxed about everything. Apparently it shows. There’s still a bunch of stuff going on in my head at the moment and I don’t really know what I’m doing, what I’m supposed to do, what’s going on, but I’m actually okay with it. I wouldn’t have said that a few weeks ago. Which is pretty awesome to be honest.

In the session, I mentioned how I always felt like there were two of me. One (LCLC) is trying to deal with everything and do the day to day running of my brain and my body and the other (Orbette, naturally) is my personality or my front that I give off to people. Most of the time they work in sync keeping each other going, sometimes the personality puts on a show to cover up what’s really going on, and for the past number of months they’ve both been slowly just lying down, sick of everything, tired and beaten.

I think they’re both starting to stand up.

The One Where I Hate Myself

•July 1, 2015 • 2 Comments

More post-counselling brain farting. Bit of an honest one. Just how I feel.

It was weird this week. It started focused on my not getting the job and feeling like a failure and worries about trying to move and looming deadlines and blah blah blah blah. Then we got into how the feel about ‘me’.

I’ve always been weird about what I feel about myself. I’m surrounded by marvellous people who love me and think I’m awesome and want to spend time with me even though sometimes I wonder why they think that I’m great. I talked about my other persona and how I can sometimes channel this small bit of me that thinks I’m brilliant and awesome and great and funny. Like there’s two of me. One is awesome and the other is this grey lump of sadness, poking the fun me, telling me about all the things I should probably worry about and how I’m a failure at being an adult. Recently the grey lump has been winning the fight, hence going to counselling, and it would be nice to have this other awesome bit taking over again.

One thing that has always set me back is how I feel I look. You see me posting selfies a lot. These are on good days where I feel okay mostly. A lot of the time I feel like I look okay. My face isn’t too bad and I’m chubby but it’s all portioned out in alright places.

Then sometimes I look in the mirror and I hate what I see. No, I despise what I see. I can feel like I look disgusting. Vile even. I use this words to describe myself a lot. I look at how my arms and belly and legs are huge and I just look like a sack of shit. I look at my shit hair and and gormless face and stupid fucked up body and think about how I can’t possibly look attractive to other people. Why would anyone look at me and want me? I’m hideous.

This can often affect the effort I make in what I wear, hiding myself behind layers and comfort.

I’m not though. I know I’m not. Not really. It’s just the grey lump in my mind being a massive fucking cunty prick. It makes me sad then makes me eat then makes me sad. Etc etc etc.

But it can be controlled, and we know I love control. It’s about working on my mind as well as my body and I can do something about it. And it’s not just about trying to lose weight. It’s always been a factor with my unhappiness but it’s not the cause, it’s a side effect of how I react to situations and cope. I just need to feel better, in all ways. I might stay chubby, who knows. As long as I try and learn to be happy with myself.

It’s going to be hard, and it’s stuff I’ve thought about before but maybe before I wasn’t in the position to cope with the changes I need to make.

Less tears this evening, less trauma. I have so much happening and I need to remember I’m not alone and that I’ll be okay in the end, eventually.

Everything is going to be fucking fine.

Letting Go

•June 17, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Please note, this post is boring and not really interesting to anyone else but me and I’m tired and I need a pint.

I’ve had a good week. So often my mood will be up then down then up then down but for the last few days there has been consistency. Sure I’ve had moments of a bit of panic but there has been much less sadness. I attribute that to the few realisations I had last week and just having a bit of of a nice time. I also had news of another interview which I have coming up which has helped. Need to keep calm about it though.

So I went into my session today feeling a bit more positive than I have been. We talked about how I have tried to start talking myself down a bit, to try and let go and not worry about situations out of my control and that not everything has an air of doom attached to it, also about some of the relationships I’ve had and the kind of men I’ve gone for in the past. It wasn’t as ‘whoah omg’ revolutionary this week, but some stuff still unravelled. The main thing is that I need to let go of dad related stuff. I have built and built on resentment for so long that I’m angry for reasons that aren’t even real because I’ve created reasons to keep a wedge between me and my dad to stop him getting close to me again. I’m still too scared to actually let my dad in because I believe he’ll hurt me, or lie, or disappear or reject me. All the things he did when I was young. I’m going to need to talk to my dad properly about everything one day without shouting or screaming or calling him names but not yet, I’m not ready for that moment. There’s so much he doesn’t know about my life because I don’t tell him. I probably should. One day anyway.

It’s fucking exhausting, talking about stuff you just haven’t discussed properly before. I started crying again even though I hoped I wouldn’t. It’s just weird letting things out even though I know it’s good for me. It just hurts. All for the greater good though, with every step I learn a new thing and think of ways to try and cope or deal with myself in situations.

Everything is going to be fucking fine.

The Grey Area

•June 10, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I want to try and write about how I feel on the day of each counselling session till it ends. Like a diary. This is the first one after my second session. This isn’t easy for me to write. I have anxiety and I have depression and I have bad thoughts and I touch on all of those things so if you can’t read that stuff then I wouldn’t read this. I don’t like talking about myself, I don’t like being honest, I don’t like looking weak. But I think writing all this stuff down is something I’m going to just have to do. A way of keeping myself in track and somewhere else that I can just go RARR RARR RARR RARR in one go. So it’s probably going to be a bit dark. I’m not doing this for sympathy. I know I’m not alone and stuff. I just need it out of my head.

But yeah. Today has been weird.

I woke up this morning after some sleep feeling nothing. The previous night I came home after dropping suddenly and locked myself away in my room, glad that I didn’t have to bump into anyone as the flat was empty because I didn’t feel okay enough to deal with the interaction. I hoped a sleep would help. It didn’t. Getting ready was difficult, I didn’t shower, put on something that no one would know wasn’t ironed and got myself into work. I barely spoke today. I sent my colleague a message saying I wasn’t feeling well and sorry for being quiet. I stayed quiet until I had to leave for my counselling session.

The passing hours were agony. I didn’t want to speak, I didn’t want to interact, I only wanted to go home and be quiet alone but I couldn’t. I thought about how easier it would be if I just stopped existing, how frustrated I was at how long it was taking to get a job, how I felt trapped here, how I never really amounted to anything, how I was going to probably be on my own forever anyway. Everything felt too much and I just wanted to lie down and be by myself until whatever I was feeling just fucked off and I could regain some normality again. But I just sat there, doing my work and not speaking. But thinking. Constantly thinking.

Then I went along to counselling. I didn’t really know how I was going to be but I started to feel better just being away from work.

The hour I was there was mostly crying, some laughing, some anger. I won’t go into everything, but there were a number of realisations, things that I never would have attributed to the root cause but looking back I can see in a way how they all connect. I never thought what happened with my dad was so deeply ingrained in me but it is, and I have to let go. Not everything is black and white, there is a grey area in my life that I have no control over and I need to let myself spend some time there and realise that my need to control everything in my life and my always feeling like I have to adapt and change to suit everyone else is a symptom of the absolute fear that has taken over me and that has consumed me to a point where I now have anxiety in most situations and I have depressive mood swings and thoughts which gotten worse over the past couple of years. Thoughts about running far away, getting away from people. Switching between feelings of ‘I want to be nice and help people and look after people I care about’ and ‘whats the fucking point, they don’t really care about me anyway, they only care about themselves. I always lose out and get hurt in the end’ because in reality I don’t really trust anyone else, only myself. Irrational bouts of anger and rage and frustration and loneliness and fear and sadness and apathy and nothing. Sometimes I feel like I am going absolutely fucking insane.

Pieces are starting to fit together, things are starting to make sense. It’s the beginning of a long road but I am already seeing the benefit of something I should have stuck with a long time ago. The first time I had counselling ended after one session because, ironically (if you’re aware of the full circumstances of my past) the counsellor left. I felt instantly better when I finished today, even though I was a bit of a wreck and to be honest I still am, but I felt something. Then I had a really nice beer and a nice pizza with some salad and watched some telly and I’m quite tired now so hopefully I’ll sleep better.

I’ll be down again at some point and there’s nothing I can do but ride it out. And I am still scared about my future and I am still frustrated that the things I actually want aren’t as easy to achieve as I want them to be but hopefully everything will fit into place.

Everything is going to be fucking fine.