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Things I haven't told you yet....

  • By girly-d
  • On 11/01/2018

"I'm quite a damaged person".....

That's my reality and the one phrase that is currently going around and around in my head as I attempt to stop yet another epic melt-down from taking over me today. So, instead of doing what I want to do, which is cry uncontrollably and rage at all that is wrong with my life, I'm doing what I know is best for me and what will allow me to deal with all of this shit sensibly and responsibly. 

I'm writing. I'm turning to my blog and I'm morphing into "Just a girl" as a healthy way to deal with my emotions. Because it's the only way that I can stop myself from going into full-on melt-down, when anything goes a little bit wrong. Or massively, horribly, incredibly wrong even. Like they have today. 

Writing as "Just a girl" allows me to lay myself bare to the world. Without fear of judgement or reprimand. Which is important to me. Because this means that this way, I get to tell my story, my way, how I see fit, to the best of my ability, without attracting hordes of pointy fingers, graduates from the school of chinese whispers and a fuck-load of "I told you so's". Not that I really care about pointy fingers and chinese whispers but at least this way, the majority of people don't actually know who they are pointing at when they talk about me. Which means that I don't take it personally.

And as for the "I told you so's"......don't bother, its fine. Because me being me means that I probably knew the outcome of whatever it was all along....which means that I beat you to it....and just chose to do it anyway. In case I was wrong....which obviously I wasn't.

So spare me. 

So tonight I'm upset. I'm disappointed and I'm angry.....and now I'm thinking about the other things that I worry about, because, to be honest, if I'm going to have a melt-down, then I may as well get my moneys worth.

And so I'm telling you some things that scare the shit out of me....The things I haven't told you yet.....

Like the fact that I take 'Little mans' ashes everywhere. And that when I'm feeling really rubbish that includes taking them to bed with me too. Because I miss him.

That his name isn't actually "Little man"....I'm just protecting his identity in the same way that I protect my own.

That I grieve for him constantly, because for me, on this occasion time is not a healer. The hole he left me with is too big..... That I would give anything to bring him back. Especially on nights like tonight when I just want to fall apart and I miss my little wingman.

That I worry about my future and the fact that I don't want to live out the rest of my days living in a caravan in a field all on my own... but that I probably will because my recovering alcoholic boyfriend has just come home smelling of vodka, which has kind of pissed on my parade in spectacular fashion and changed future plans considerably......but that even if this hadn't have happened, he, and all of the others who came before him have left me so emotionally fucked up and fragile that my ridiculous insecurities, along with my suspicion and my distrust would drive anyone half decent away anyway.....Mainly because they'll decide that they don't need the headfuck and therefore put me quickly back onto the shelf before running a mile in the opposite direction.

That, although I pretend to be a rubber ball in order to bounce back from most things, that in reality I'm actually not made of rubber. That some days I do have to question my resilience and ask myself why I actually bother. Because some days I just feel really old and tired and completely and utterly fed up and broken. Like tonight.

And then I try to be grateful for the things that I do still have, like my job and my caravan. But then the whispering anxiety voices kick in and remind me that if I was to somehow mess this up, then there is no job.....and therefore no caravan. 

Which then reminds me that I don't actually have anything else to fall back on. Yet. Which puts a lot of pressure on me to succeed. Constantly. But any kind of prolonged  pressure isn't great for my head. Because it makes me worry. Which in turn makes my anxiety and depression worse.....which makes me worry more.

Because I'm trying so hard to dig myself out of the enormous hole that I fell into not all that long ago, that I really can't afford to mess things up..."because I'm worried".

And so every day I make myself climb a little bit higher and a little bit higher  in order to get myself out of that hole....But I'm scared of heights like I'm scared of a lot of things. And I know that if I lose my grip for just one second, or try to check my progress by looking back to see how far I've come, then I will fall and I'll fail.

And failure just isn't an option for me. I don't have it in me to get through another one.

Today has been another bad head day. Of epic proportions.... As you can probably guess. Which has sent me into a horrible spiral of insecurity and complete and utter headfuck.

But I have three major things in my favour right now, not two. My caravan, my job and my blog.

Which is already starting to open doors and take me places - something that I hadn't thought about when I first started to write. Because writing this blog gives me super-powers and keeps me focussed despite all the bad shit that occasionally still happens to me. And I know that as long as I have this to fall back on, then I have all of the tools and all of the resources I need to keep digging my way out of that hole without giving in and pressing  the "fuck it" button.

Because that won't solve anything. It will just drag me straight back to hell....and I'm all done with meeting that fucker....

So tonight I'm having a melt-down. Because I'm sick to fucking death of constantly fending off shit. I've had enough for one lifetime......I'm upset, I'm disappointed and I'm angry.....Tonight I don't feel like climbing very much further out of that hole. But I haven't fallen either.....and thats the important bit.....because, unlike my boyfriend, I'm not going to hit the bottle. I'm writing it out instead.

And then tomorrow I'm going to do what I always do.....pretend that I'm made of rubber and bounce my way back out of yet another truly fucked up scenario.

And who knows? While I'm at the station waiting for my train, I may just bump into the person who left their bag of karma behind the last time they travelled, and decided to waltz off with my suitcase instead.....because I'd really like to meet them. So that I can finally hand this absolute sack of shit back to its rightful owner.....Because there is absolutely no way on earth that all of this shit can be meant for me......






anxiety not the slide mental health me myself and i