There is no hope...this will not end well...

I do not feel well. The 2 hour dentist appointment ended up being 3 ½ hours and I don’t feel well still. I recognize that it is mostly my fault. I haven’t taken care of myself this week – but I wanted to try to eat tonight…but I can’t – my teeth hurt really bad – like I can barely open my mouth there is no way I can eat anything. Since I haven’t eaten in 4 days I feel sort of shaky and weak and I really want ‘old’ DT to tell me what to do…but there’s no ‘old’ DT anymore and so I will stay here within myself praying for something (?) sleep? Dissociation to take me away so I can escape all of it for awhile.

I just cannot turn around and ask for help. I wouldn’t even know who to ask. Why? I don’t know exactly. Fear… Maybe… Stubbornness…Perhaps. I don’t know why. When you get hurt it’s difficult to put yourself out there again – for fear of being hurt again. And right now it’s just easier to pretend to the outside world that all is well and I am a-ok – even though that isn’t true. But honestly, I don’t think it matters...anyway…the “truth”.

Aren’t I being a good little Gracie by not facing any of it? I mean, I showered today, I dressed myself into a white button down shirt and a pair of baggy black slacks. But the unrelenting darkness…it’s still here – it’s just as strong as it was before, but I will do what others expect of me…throwing it all into a leaky bucket so it does not bother anyone else.

I have nowhere to go for help, really. I am no longer burdening DT with any of this…it’s not fair – it’s just too much for her to deal with. Anyone really. Too many things, too much trauma from childhood, from the teens…and any work done this far has felt like someone putting a band-aid on a gaping stab wound. And then someone gives me a strong dose of DBT which I am allergic too and not only does it have permanent damage – it has set me back at least a year in therapy – well, maybe it’s ended therapy for me.

I don’t feel well now. I am afraid of Fridays. I tried to be proactive, rent movies, spend time with “business” to avoid feeling. And yet here they are – the overwhelming ‘feelings’…relentlessly returning to my front door, insisting they have their say and I remain their captive audience.

This won’t end well. There is no hope. There is only *this*. There is no hope. I want to wrap up in my blanket…into a quiet dark corner and cry and pray for something to make it all end. I need it to stop. It has to stop. Please, just stop.

I’m scared. 5 year old cries for DT, for her comfort, for the look of safety in her eyes. I want DT to help me but she isn’t here anymore…it was too much for her too. But I’m scared. Scared…miserable….frightened. No one to help. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t feel well. No help – but I don’t deserve help anyway. I deserve nothing. So I ask for nothing. I will never ask again. Never.

Stay away from me, everyone. I am no good. Not even my own mother would stand by me because she knew…she knew! DT knew! She knew too! I showed her all of me and she knew that I was bad. There’s no hope. There is nothing. I feel nothing. I will never feel. Nothing. I am nothing. Nothing.