I am so angry. I could rip everyone* to shreds.
*Funny, I thought I just wrote “everything”, not everyone, but I just read over it and it seems that I wrote “everyone,” and that’s fine.
I don’t know what to type because I feel very speechless. I am very romantic in a hookup culture. I’m small and naive. I suffer from depression and it’s hard for me to put myself out there. I feel anxious around other people. I always feel like such a bother and a burden. I consider killing myself a lot, or at least just punishing myself in some way, letting myself suffer and not taking proper care of myself because I’m not worth caring for.
I was dating a guy who I thought liked me but I wasn’t positive liked me, but I thought I was probably just being paranoid. He could never get an erection and I thought we could move on from that but it turned out it was just me. He wasn’t attracted to me. I’m really not that hot or gorgeous, I know that. He hid some things from me so we didn’t have some things in common like I thought we did and I found that out now. I was a symbol of the elements in his life that had oppressed him. No, he didn’t say that outright, but….ouch. It hurts a lot. All he really wanted was sex, and when that didn’t work, I guess I became kind of useless. I broke up with him, is what he said, but I was going through a lot. I was confused. I just wanted a moment. He was drunk–how could I have talked to him? I expected him to reach out. He said he hooked up with someone else and it worked out for him. So it must have been me. I didn’t really think we were even totally broken up. I wanted him back, I wanted to be with him again, now he’s blames it all on me.
That would be okay, except for I take the blame. My twisted logic allows me to take this kind of stuff and internalize it, and decide that I am the problem, that things could have worked, or at least not ended so badly, had I only not said or done this or that.
He asked how I can become attached to him in just a month, but it’s because I’ve had no one for so long. Because I have felt lonely to the bone. My depression has stripped everything from me. I have no coping skills to handle problems like this. What is hurtful to one person is extrapolated into something that can actually physically harm me, something that is out for me and wants to get me and take my life. Heartbreak shatters not just my feelings but my entire existence. I feel my brain breaking apart into little pieces and for days I am out of my own body, simply a ghost of myself, afraid of myself. Nothing runs anymore. My bloodstream seems to be flowing in the wrong directions. I am unable to walk, speak, eat.
The one thing about people with chronic depression is that we don’t have real coping, recovery skills, instead we have invisibility skills. We can make ourselves into something we’re not so the general public can think that we are okay. I call myself an artist but that’s my purest artform: creating masks for myself.
>>>>>> Ouch, it hurts to be a human. …
Even though I recognize now that I must grieve, I can’t actually grieve because my automatic disposition is to begin construction of my mask that will cover and suppress my grieving and pain for the next cycle of existing, until I move on even a little bit.
I never really moved on from any of my heartbreaks. I made masks. I operated within them, until they became less effort to dress up in. Until it seemed normal for me to be wearing a mask. The mask is normalcy. I am normal. I am okay now. I’ve been pretending to be okay for so long, that I must actually be okay. This was my logic.
Instead I still wear those masks, they have just become a part of my skin.
At least, as of writing this, I’m aware of it…
All Images are Roy Lichtenstein originals. He uses “benday” dots. These images spoke to me tonight.