Monday, October 17, 2005

ISearch - Why I'm Writing

Like I said, I gave up. I’ll give it to you straight out- the reason I’m writing is to find out if there’s any hope of going back. I'm the kind of person who is insecure. Not the kind of insecure where I don't know who I am and where I stand, but the kind of insecure that is harder to define. I don't know exactly what my real emotions are and which ones are just elements of paranoia. I have institutionalized myself to pain, and I have tried to break that barrier down. I've convinced myself, on the inside, that there is something wrong with me and there's something wrong with the world. I've refused to trust either person. When it seems like things are going fine, I always make sure something goes wrong because it makes me feel like I'm in control, and I don't even realize when it is I do this. I push the very person who I can trust the most, farther away than any other person could do the damage, when I want nothing more to have him by my side. I'm destroying the one thing I hold sacred, and I don't even know why.

I’m writing because I’m tired of being miserable, I’m tired of feeling angry and not knowing why, and most of all I’m looking for an answer, and a sense of hope that I can’t seem to find within myself. I don’t have any other drive. I cannot find any ounce of faith in myself, and barely any in others. I don’t accept anyone or anything no matter who the person is, and I’m not comfortable with that. I don’t want to be insecure for the rest of my life. I don’t want to push anyone away. I want to find solid ground and get help, I suppose. I've taken every approach I'm willing to take in order to help myself and it seems as though I've just dug myself in deeper, so I'm looking elsewhere. Just the other day, My fiance and I were walking through the woods having a discussion about reading, and why I read so fast, and he made a simple statement, and I just dropped like a hammer. I stopped talking and I stopped thinking, I was just overcome with an anger and resentment and I couldn't figure out the source. It started a fight, if you could imagine, and ruined the whole outing. I sank into myself, and felt nothing but loneliness and despair. Why can't I have a conversation without hating myself?

I'm writing because I need a solice of some sort. I need an answer, whether it's the answer I want or not. I want to find a solution to this problem, an ending to my current downward spiral. I need answers to some of these questions.

- What is it that causes these sudden outbursts?
- Is what I feel a "real" emotion, or is it just a chemical in my brain making me overreact?
- How can I find a way to love myself?
- Will routine help?
- Is it stress?
- What is bi-polar disorder exactly?
- If I do have it, how can it be treated?
- Can I treat it on my own, without drugs or psychotherapy?
- If I do take drugs, what are the safest and most trusted? Which ones have the higest success rate?
- How could I find counseling, or a psychiatrist, for no cost?

1 Comments:

At 11:26 AM, Blogger johngoldfine said...

Not sure about the first graf here--does it belong somewhere else or should it be chunked up with pieces staying here, other parts travelling or being cut?

 

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