Saturday, February 12, 2011

My brain is going to kill me

My brain is going to kill me.  It tortures me with insomnia, images, feelings, horrible memories.  There is no escape.  Even when I appear to be having a good time, my brain is not.  My brain has an incurable infection—a disease.  A disease that talking isn’t going to cure.  A disease that medication doesn’t seem to be helping.  A disease that is slowly and painfully killing me.  My brain makes me do things I don’t want to do.  It makes me do horrible things.  I did something horrible recently that I didn’t want to do.   I've vomited over and over again but I can't purge it from myself.  I can't purge it away.  I've taken like 50 showers but I can't wash it away either.  I feel so disgusting.  Nothing helps.  It's not something I wanted.  I got trapped in my head like I always do.  I get trapped and I can't speak, like when I was mute as a child.  I just freeze; I am frozen inside my mind.  I can't move.  I can't do anything.  I can only watch.  Why does this happen to me?  Why am I so fucked up?

It took everything I have to tell my therapist.  I didn’t want to tell anyone.  I didn’t want anyone to know what a horrible person I really am.  I had to write it for her.  I had to write her a letter because I knew I would get trapped in my brain.  My therapist just sat there.  She just sat there and watched me sob.  I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard in a very long time.  I’m worried about what she thinks about me.  I am worried she thinks I’m a horrible person.  She didn’t say very much, at least not much that I remember.  I only looked at her two times.  Those two times her eyes told me that I’m disgusting and vile and deserve to die.   I asked her what I should do and she just asked me what I think my options are.  I don't know what my fucking options are.  I don't like what my options are.  I want to go back and erase it.  All of it.  I want to go back and erase my birth.  I want to go back and be a better person or not exist at all.  I think the world would be better if I weren't here.  The universe hates me anyway.  My life and birth were mistakes.  Cosmic jokes.  
I don’t want to hurt anymore but nothing I try works.   I’ve been working so hard in therapy, harder than I thought I was capable, but it’s not helping.  Medication does not help me either.  Instead it just fills my life with more uncomfortable side effects. My brain is full of side effects.  Maybe I’m just a side effect.  I wasn’t supposed to be here.  I ruined the life of a 17 year old by being born.  My whole life is one negative side effect of being born when I was not meant to be here.  I am not supposed to be here.  I am a mistake.  

Why am I here?  Why?  My whole life has been nothing but pain, misery, torture.  I hate myself more than I ever thought possible.  There is no more room on my legs to cut the hatred away.  My whole life has been nothing but pain.  I've tried to fix myself but nothing ever works.  Everything I do is to try to fix myself.  Therapy two or three times a week, medication, getting my ass out of bed and going to work and social outings.  I don't do any of that because I want to.  I do it because I have to.  I do it because if I don't I'll just melt into my memory foam mattress topper on my bed and die.  It’s all pointless.  I'm not fixable.  I'm not ever going to be fixable.  The universe hates me.  I want to be put out of my misery.  Please!  I want to feel nothing.  Nothing at all.  Just peace and sleep.  I am so tired-- tired in every way possible.  I just can't do it anymore.  I just can't.