Tuesday, August 30, 2011

learning to be tolerable

Comments have been disappearing from my blog lately so I have been going through a lot of them this past week and a half trying to get help with putting them back and I'll admit that I've been got caught up in a lot of old hurtful comments.  I'm curled up on my couch in my tiny 90sq ft living room, typing on my super old computer since the laptop I bought at the beginning of this year decided to die and leave me.  I'm feeling...well feeling like I always feel I guess.  I'm feeling a little raw and hurt.  Part of that is because I've been off my meds for two weeks and can't go back on until I see my doctor tomorrow.  I can't move too fast or I almost pass out and get these little dizzy kind of brain zaps, along with headaches.  Because I've had somewhat severe side effects to my meds when I first started taking them, I will have to go back on really slowly again.  I'm seriously stupid.  God, I wish I wasn't so crazy.  I don't want to take medication.  I don't want to need medication to survive being me.  I don't want to need medication to keep me from killing myself.  How messed up is that?  This is how much medication I need.  I need this much medication to be barely functional in life.  The red ones are for B12 anemia and the large pills in the bottom container are for my hormone issues, but the rest are all for my crazy.  That's not even including my sleeping pills and as needed anxiety pills.  I'm freaking nuts. 

Part of what triggered my desire to leave this blog was going over old comments.  It hurts when strangers attack you in a place you use to be open and honest with the world about the part of yourself you hide from everyone.  A place you go to stick your fingers on the keys and vomit up all the pain you have inside.  A place where you are vulnerable.  It hurts when someone you see being so supportive and helpful on other blogs is harsh, judgmental, and mean on yours.  I'm not just writing about one person, but several.  Why do people go to other blogs and offer such sweet words of support, but when they comment on my blogs it's always to tell me that I need to change, or that the common denominator in all my failed relationships is me?  Or that I am a liar?  Or that I am over dramatic?  I know this is just a stupid blog and people on the Internet have a tendency to be meaner than they are in real life.  That's not really the issue.  The issue is this seems to be a pattern in my life.  There is something about me that people just cannot tolerate, something that makes them lash out, and I don't know what it is in order to change it.  God, I would change it in half a heart beat. 

My biological mother singled me out from my siblings as a child, and still does it today.  On her facebook page she lists all her children except for me.  As a child she would tell me how much she hates me and wishes I was never born.  She's nuts.  I get it, but it doesn't change the fact that something about me really set her off when I was a child and still sets her off so much so that she feels the need to write me a hurtful email every once in a while.  

I went to a TON of schools as a kid.  I didn't make many friends in elementary school because I changed schools so much.  I went to seven high schools, but I only went to two middle schools, and one of them was only for a few months, so I was pretty much with the same kids in seventh and eighth grade.  I did have friends in middle school and I was always the girl people wanted to be partners with in school projects because I was "the smart girl" which really meant that they knew I would do all the work and get a good grade.  I had a core group of friends in middle school that I hung out with in classes or at lunch or in sports or orchestra or my other activities.  BUT there was a HUGE group of kids that just hated me and to this day I do not know why.  I wasn't loud or obnoxious.  I was pretty much the opposite.  I always looked at the floor when I walked in the halls, I always tried to stay out of people's way.  I let people cheat off my homework.  I helped people with their homework.  Still, I was hated, even by the kids who wanted to be in my group projects or help with homework.

In my group home, it wasn't so bad.  Most of the girls liked me.  Most of the staff liked me, or at least I thought so, but there were a few that went out of their way to be cruel to me.  A 300 lb girl in one of my group homes said she'd kick my ass if I got in the van on our way back from an outing when I was 13.  She beat me up once before so I was terrified she'd do it again.  I refused to get in the van and my group home left me at the park and called me in as a runaway.  I walked home by myself in the dark and got a paper arrest anyway.  Some girls would go through my things and break them just because they didn't like me.  Some staff didn't like me either.  One staff member locked me in the timeout room and kept shouting in front of the other kids that I was crazy and needed to be locked up because I had cut myself.  One staff member was fired because of how she treated me.  She would tell all the other kids that we couldn't do special, unapproved things because of me.  She said I would tell the staff leader and get them all in trouble.  I have no idea where that came from or why she hated me but she really did.

Tim hated me.  He freaking hated me.  He told me so with his words and his body.  And I don't know why.  I wanted him to be my daddy but he couldn't stand me.  Other foster fathers hated me as well.  One foster dad told me he couldn't wait until I left.  This was the same foster dad that said they were going to adopt me and that I was their daughter without conditions.  Foster parents always promised me forever, but as they grew to know me they changed their minds.  Why?  Please don't tell me it wasn't me, it was them.  The common denominator IS me.  I want to know what I am doing so wrong in life and relationships.  What is WRONG WITH ME?

My friend K promised me she'd never go away and that I was family.  She changed her mind after my suicide attempt.  I know a lot of my readers feel for K.  They saw her words as kind and hopeful, that she wanted to work things out.  Part of that is because I only selected and posted emails that I thought were fair representations of her.  I wanted to try to be fair and honest.  I knew the things she said in her emails were sugar coated or totally untrue.  I knew she was done along time ago, way before my suicide attempt, but I don't know why.  I hate photographs of myself.  I hate being on camera, but I made a video for them telling them I'm sorry for everything and taking blame for everything, even things that most people tell me are not (at least not totally) my fault.  She said she couldn't work it out right now.  I know the words "right now" give some hope for the future, but I know her and I know she has quite a few ex friends and she still feels angry about arguments from 20 years ago.  I know the words "right now" don't really add much hope for the future with her and I know that's not just me being dramatic.  She's done.  She's done with me.  She told me that I need to take responsibility for why people keep leaving me.  She said this after I made a video talking responsibility for everything and asking to work things out.  I thought that is what I was doing.  What is so intolerable about me that a five year relationship, helping someone have a baby, and continually being there for someone doesn't make a difference when times get tough and mending and change is needed in a relationship?

I know people are going to mention my girlfriend.  She loves me.  She's stuck it out through this really tough time and finding me during my suicide attempt.  That's very true.  I love her too.  But what people don't understand from this blog is that our relationship is not perfect.  We've discussed breaking up a few times and right now my girlfriend has put a hold on all big decisions until I'm stable, whenever that will be.  I have a great girlfriend who loves me very much, but I also have a girlfriend who might want to just be my friend in the future.  Our relationship has been pretty pretty smooth and easy because I and pretty independent and reserved.  I don't share all this crap I put on my blog with her.  I keep it to myself in real life.  I made a huge mistake when I let people from my real life read this blog.  I let people inside a part of me that was supposed to stay secret and hidden from the rest of the world.  I showed them the real me and they ran away.

This is not intended to be an "oh-poor-me" post.  I honestly would like to know why people don't like me.  Why people hate me.  Why people find me intolerable.  Why people leave me.  What is it about me that makes people want to lash out at me or be harsh with me?  What is it about me that makes people think I need a lot of "tough love?"  My whole life I've been getting lots of "tough."  I'd really like to know how I can get some of the love part someday.  People often tell me it's up to me to change.  That all I have to do is want to change and my life will be better, but no one ever tells me how or what to change.  What am I supposed to change?  How do I change it?  My whole life I've been molding and changing to what I think people will love.  My whole life I've failed.  I don't know how or what to change about me to keep people around.  How do I stop being so intolerable?  What do I need to change to stop living this way?  How do I stop being such an intolerable asshole and start being someone lovable?  How do I change so that people like me...and keep liking me in the future.  I don't seem to have a problem finding people to like me.  I just don't know how to maintain their affection.  No that's not even right.  I just don't know how to stop that little hate bubble with my name on it from growing in the hearts of people I love.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

perhaps

Going off my meds for two weeks was not the most brilliant of ideas. I wanted to see if I'm really totally insane and I guess I got my answer. I wish all of this would be over soon. If I live to old age I've still got another 60 or 70 years of this. That's an unbearable thought. I don't know if I can survive that long. Not like this anyway.

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Friday, August 26, 2011

quitting

I've decided to quit therapy, taking meds, and this blog, nobody really reads it anymore anyway. I'm such a loser that I can't keep anyone around in my life....therapists. friends. Blog friends. Other foster kids. I'm just a fucking loser. I'm just done with trying to be lovable to people. I'm tired of trying to keep people around. I get why people leave me but it still hurts. I'm done with pouring my heart into this little box and knowing people are rolling their eyes as they read it. As an email I got last night said, there is no hope for improvement for me. This is the best my life can do. I was never meant to be here in the first place. The only way to stop feeling like shit is to rectify that mistake.

Thank you to the couple readers I do have and I'm sorry I'm such a fucking whiny baby.
I feel like I'm just waiting for life to be over. I'm just waiting for it all to end.  I'm just waiting for peace.  I stopped taking my meds because I might as well be me while I wait.


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Thursday, August 25, 2011

The land of nothing

My new computer that I bought at the beginning of this year and that I'm not even halfway finished paying off no longer works.  I have no idea why but the hard drive died.  My phone also hates me and has become possessed.  It calls people, sends text messages, sends photos, sends emails, all by itself.  It also turns on alarms, searches the internet, and all other crazy things all by itself.  It's like possessed.  If it weren't so frustrating, it'd be hilarious.

Today CT really hurt my feelings.  I started to talk about the man in the middle east and how much I hate myself for causing him pain and she cut me off and said she didn't want to argue with me because supposedly I know that she has a different perspective.  I didn't even finish my sentence and it's so hard for me to talk about the time I let a man be beat so badly...maybe even to death.  Her tone was harsh and her words were sharp.  Maybe most people have a thicker skin than me, but I'm huge pile of fragile trash.  I tried to leave early but she wouldn't let me.  She wanted to "talk" about the sudden change in my demeanor after she hurt my feelings.  I just wanted to leave, but I listened until the the clock hit the 50 minute mark and then I took off. 

I met with the new DBT therapist on Monday.  I have some real reservations about the regimented, formulaic, non flexible DBT treatment, but I went anyway.  She left me waiting for 12 minutes past our scheduled time.  I was really angry when her reason for being late was that she accidental put a chair in front of the little signal light in her office.  Why didn't she check the for the light knowing I was supposed to be there at 4:30?  The session went "okay" but she couldn't answer my questions.  I asked if you just radically accept everything as neither good or bad, as you're supposed to in DBT, then how do you have an opinion on anything?  She said that was a good question but then said that the opinion was neither bad or good.  WTF?  That's not even a logical answer.  She also brought up how if you're in bad traffic and someone cuts you off, its better to just realize that everyone is doing the best they can in that moment.  I said that I think those aspects of CBT are not useful for bigger things in life.  She wanted an example.  I said rape.  Her response was that the rapist was doing the best they knew how to do in that moment in time--that even the law says thats the best they can do that's why there are registries for sex offenders.  That seriously pissed me off but I didn't say anything.  She kept telling me that the websites I was getting my information from were not good sources and were filled with misinformation and then at the end of the session she gave me a list of websites that I should check out.  The website that I mentioned was on that list.  WTF.

My girlfriend has been in Chicago for ten days.  While in Chicago she saw my friend, her husband, and the little man at a museum.  It was so random and bizarre even though D (my little mans father) is from Chicago.  What are the chances they'd all be there and in the same museum at the same time?  I wish she hadn't told me.  I was having a really good day but my day ended with sobbing.  Last time I saw the little man he couldn't walk, was only saying one or two word sentences and when my girlfriend saw him he was singing and running.  And then in therapy my therapist was telling me about the times she will be gone for the rest of the year.  Then she mentioned Thanksgiving and asked what I would be doing this year.  It hadn't dawned on me that I wouldn't be with my friends this year.  I'm going to be alone on Thanksgiving again.  My days of having a family on Thanksgiving are over.

I have been doing a lot with friends from my program...going to dinner, movies, hanging out at home, going on walks, etc...  I'm really trying hard to be more social and get out more so I don't spend all of my time at home alone.  When with friends I'm always teasing and laughing and trying to make other people laugh.  This blog is so melodramatic but in real life I'm the clown, but it gets so exhausting being the clown when you really wish you were dead.  Anyway, I've been trying to be social, find a new job, join activities like yoga or classes.  I'm thinking about picking my violin back up and taking some lessons.

My friends all have families and they all forget that I don't and end up making jokes that really hurt my feelings or asking me questions that I can't really answer.  Sometimes they joke about adoption, like they used to tease their siblings that they were adopted.  I don't know why but that really upset me.  The other day someone was talking about how their family doesn't believe in adoption because "they don't take care of other people's mistakes."  I wanted to cry.

I just don't want to do any of this anymore.  I want to float around in a land of nothingness.  No happiness, no loneliness, no pain.  Just nothing.  That's where I want to go.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Foster Children and Attachment

 
I’ve been browsing a lot of foster parent blogs recently and one topic has really stood out to me:  the hurt and frustration parents have with children who have trouble attaching to their foster or adopted parents.  Many parents feel rejected by their child’s struggle or inability to attach to them.  There are even dangerous therapies created and practiced to help or force children to attach to their new parents.  I understand why these therapies exist and why parents would feel rejected, hurt, and frustrated with a child they adopted's seemingly inability to attach to them, wanting nothing more but to give them a good life and love them.  I totally get how hard it must be to love a child who appears not to love you back.  I would be devastated if I adopted a child that couldn’t trust that I loved them and didn’t feel attached to me no matter how much I tried to make them feel loved.   I would also understand why my child can’t trust that I love them and that their place in my heart and my home is permanent.  I know what that is like. Most foster children know what that is like.

Foster children live in a world where they never feel safe or loved.  They never know if their new set of parents will keep them or if they will eventually have to move again.  They don’t know if they might mess up their new home and/or if their new parents will fall out of love with them.  Most children grow up feeling loved unconditionally.  They just know that their parents love them.  They never once have to question where they belong or if their parents might get rid of them in the future.  Most children are loved without conditions.  Most children can act out, freak out, have learning problems, behavior problems, medical and mental health problems and their parents have to love and keep them despite their current or future problems.  The thought that their parents may leave them never even enters their mind. Foster children constantly think about these things and continually worry about being loved and kept.  They are hurt and constantly worried without the adult ability to process and understand what is happening to them.  Because of all this fear, anger, frustration and sadness, they may end up acting out.
 
I was born to a mother who couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of me.  From the very beginning, the world taught me that people always go away, and that people don’t love me, at least, not forever.  Some of my earliest memories are of being alone in the closet or scared because my mother left my siblings and me home alone for days at a time.  Alone and scared, we would take all the cushions and make a fort in the living room until she got back.  When I was with my mother, we were constantly moving, living in cars, living in shelters, living in hotels, living in different countries.  I had no stability.  Nothing was permanent in my life.  I had no one and nothing to attach to.  Still, I was a child desperate for love.

I remember a set of foster parents from when I was four or five.  I don’t remember their names, but I remember how they read me stories at bedtime and how they hugged me when I had nightmares.  I remember them trying to keep me, but I had to go back to my mother.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted.  I wanted my mother but I wanted my new parents too.  Who was I supposed to love?  Who was I supposed to attach to?  I was attached to both and I loved both.  Either way I was going to be hurt. Ultimately, I lost them both.

My childhood was spent bouncing from home to home, school to school, parent to parent.  In the beginning, I wondered, dreamed, hoped, prayed that my new parents would love me and keep me forever.  In the beginning, I fell in love with every foster parent, and I believed them when they said they loved me. But with each new home and family, it became harder, and eventually impossible, to believe in their love and commitment to me.  The reason I can’t trust that people love me and will always love me unconditionally is because my world has shown me that that just can’t or won't happen no matter what they do to convince me that they aren’t going away.

As I got older and I was in and out of more foster homes, it became harder to attach to my foster parents.  Attaching just meant more pain when I would inevitably have to leave.  No matter how much I fought against it, I would eventually attach, but it seemed like the minute I did, I would have to move.  Every time I was rejected and sent away it was harder and harder to attach and harder for my foster parents to care about and attach to me.  Maggie and Tim were one of my set of parents that promised to adopt me and keep me forever.  I even went by their last name at school.  That story does not have the happy ending I dreamed about when I wrote Santa Clause the letter asking for a family.  That story ends a little over three years later with my new mom, who had promised to protect and love me forever, abandoning me in a hospital room and never looking back.  Another parent was my former therapist.  She had not been my therapist very long when she retired and became my foster mom.  She bought me a dog and promised me that she was forever.  That forever didn’t happen.  Instead, she sent me away and put my dog down. 

Then there came the offer of my sister’s foster mom, who was also my temporary foster mom years before, to come be part of their family.  I jumped at the opportunity to live with my sister.   I barely knew her but she was still my real family and I wanted nothing more than to be part of a family.  My sister’s foster mom, Marlene, decided she didn’t want two kids after all, and I was sent away.  There were a few more families that made big promises they didn’t keep but by then, I hadn’t believed them or attached to them anyway.  It was less painful that way. Even when I wanted to and tried to, I just couldn’t feel attached to my friends at school, my foster parents, my bedroom, my foster siblings, my own siblings.    I just couldn’t attach to anything.  How could I attach to something I knew was going to disappear?  

Later, C and D became my foster parents.  I met C at the children’s psychiatric hospital when I was mute.  Later she became my “CPS special friend” and eventually my foster mom.  They also promised me forever.  They promised I was family no matter what happened.  She stressed that last part and she stressed it often. She said nothing I could do or say would make them send me away.  I did feel attached to her because at this point I had known her for a long time and I wanted so badly to believe her.  I felt like they were my last chance at family since I was 15.  Forever turned out to be seven months.  Their unconditional love and support turned out to have pretty strict conditions.  I was sent away for writing disrespectful emails to a friend because they grounded me.  I was sent away for being a normal teenager.

As an adult I have had relationships end because I didn’t trust enough or attach enough to the other person.  My ex-boyfriend and girlfriend felt that they were more committed to me than I was to them. They were right, sort of.  It wasn’t that I wasn’t committed.  It was that I just couldn’t believe that the other person was going to stick around if things got difficult or complicated.  Even my current girlfriend has gotten upset and stressed, feeling like I don’t believe she loves me.  It’s not that I don’t believe she loves me.  I know she loves me.  It’s just that I have a really hard time believing that her love or our relationship is forever.

My friend wrote in an email to me that she thought I felt rejected by her commitment to be my family.  She’s right.  I did, sort of.  It really scares me when people try so hard to convince me that they love me.  In my life, it has always been the people who have tried their hardest to convince me that they weren’t going anywhere who bailed on me and hurt me the most.  As soon as people start calling me family, I start to resist and push them away, but I also want to be loved so badly that it’s hard to resist.  I end up jumping in with full force and pulling away - over and over again.  It’s not something I want to do.  It’s something I fight against, but I honestly don’t know where the appropriate boundaries exist.  I don’t know how much I’m supposed to love someone.  I don’t know if I’m attaching too little or too much.  I don’t know how to love someone. 

When I say that I don’t know how to love, I really mean that.  I don’t mean that I cannot love.  I mean that I don’t know how.  Foster care and my life experiences have left me severely handicapped in love, trust, and the ability to attach.    No matter how hard I try, I always end up driving people away.  I know that I drive them away because of my inability to attach correctly.  I know it exhausts people, but I don’t know how to change it.  I don’t know how not to make people feel bad when it’s obvious that I don’t trust that they love me or will stick around.  I wish I did.  I wish they could understand how hard it is for me to trust people and not take it personally.  I wish they would stop trying to convince me they won’t go away.  I wish I could trust that people really do love me and will continue to love me in the future.  It’s painful never trusting people or feeling loved.  I just don’t know how to trust that people won’t eventually go away when life has shown me over and over again that they do.  I wish that the people in my life would stop trying to be the ones who save me or fix me and just be  able to accept that it’s hard for me to trust them completely -  and  stick around and love me anyway. 

Even if your children cannot fully attach to you and act as if they don’t love you, they do.  They would be devastated if you left.  Children with attachment issues don’t want you to force them to love you.  They don’t want you to force their love on them.  They don’t want you to go out of your way to prove your love.  Children just want you to accept them as they are and love them anyway.  They want you to stick it out through the bad times.  They want you to put up with their challenges and love them no matter what.  And maybe, just maybe, after you don’t go anywhere for a while they will feel safe enough to attach to you too.   



Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Last days of my program and firsts in therapy

This week is probably my last week in my group therapy program because of my insurance.  Am I stable enough to be without it?  I’m not sure.  I do feel a lot better in many ways, but there are still times where my desire not to be here is intense.  The program was only meant to be a temporary program and I’ve been there for quite a while now.  My gf is going out of town on Friday for ten days.  I’m going to be totally alone and without a program to attend.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say I am kind of nervous about it.

Therapy with my individual therapist last week was pretty intense.  I used an entire box of tissue on Wednesday.  That’s quite a lot of tissue for someone who went years without crying.  I never used to cry and now it seems like I’m crying every day.  I cried so hard in therapy that afterwards I came home and fell asleep.  I’ve been trying to write about last week’s therapy for a while but it was so intense that I’m having a hard time remembering everything that happened or how she responded.

(possibly triggering).

Monday, August 1, 2011

late night fatal attractions

It's 2AM and as usual, I'm awake.  I'm eating gummy bears as I watch this show on animal planet called "Fatal Attractions," about people who are obsessed with dangerous animals.  I love animals, but I'm not about to keep a lion in my backyard or live with a 1600 pound buffalo in my living room. He takes the buffalo to the bar with him and feeds him beer. He even cut off the top of his car so the buffalo can stand next to him in the car.  OMG.  That's insane.  I wonder what kind of gas mileage he gets.

I'd rather watch shows about crazy people than deal with my own crazy I guess.  This weekend I came across several unfinished projects meant for "my little man."  It was hard to see them and touch them.  I left them in the closet and avoided them like the plague until my thoughts were totally consumed by them.  I decided to finish the barn I made for the little man.  I couldn't bear the thought of throwing it away or keeping it.  I decided to finish it enough to make it presentable and give it to him.  I also found the cover I made for his isolate during his six month stay in the NICU.  I was supposed to turn it into a quilt for him, but I couldn't cut it up.  I put that in a box, along with some other projects and items I had borrowed from the little man's mom over the years.  I filled the box and drove it over to their house, making sure all the lights were off before I got out of my car and left it on their porch.  I included this note in the box:
"We moved and I realized I have a lot of unfinished projects for you.  I thought I'd give you the things you might actually want.  I love you.  I miss you.  I'm sorry I hurt you when I went crazy.  I'm still in the partial program working on getting better.  Take care of yourself.  -C (the seriously medicated)"
I realized on the drive there that this is the last thing I'll ever leave for them.  This is the last thing I'll ever give to him.  I cried...  and I drove...  and I parked...  and I cried some more.  I'm still not exactly sure what happened between us and I am coming to realize that this separation is permanent.  Maybe that's why I'm having such a hard time.  The more time that passes, the more I realize that this is real.  I messed up another family again.  I drove people away again.  I got dumped again.  I'm never going to see the people I love again.  Every time I get dumped, I feel the pain and rejection from all the other times I've been dumped too.  So while I'm doing a pretty good job at pretending to be okay and keeping my feelings that scare other people to myself, I'm still really fighting to find a reason to keep going.  I'm still so lost.  I don't know where I am or how I'll ever get to where I need to be.

God, I just want a family.  That's all I want.  I just want someone to love me, be kind to me, and stick around.  I don't want money, fame, or power.  I just want to be loved and I've tried so hard to find it.  What is wrong with me that I am not able to have that?