Thursday, May 24, 2012

Deficit

There is so much jumbling around my brain that I just do not understand, probably because it doesn't make any sort of sense.  I feel like I have this huge deficit in whatever parts of my brain are in charge of relationships and regulating the flood of pain I create and swim in.  I've been in therapy for the last two years in the hopes of finding some way to keep my head above the flash flood, maybe even find something to stand on.  A raft to keep me dry as I navigate my way around the rapids.  Two years of therapy and I'm no dryer than before.  I'm still soaking wet.  Still drowning in water that might even be a little deeper in some spots.  I stopped going to DBT and I'm seriously considering stopping therapy altogether, especially after CT seriously hurt my feelings.  Again.  I'm actually trying to think of what I can say in my voicemail canceling my sessions next week and letting her know that I won't be returning.  I want to say something elegant and final.  The perfect words to end on.  Words that will prevent her from calling me back and requesting a goodbye session.  So far I've got nothing.    

The first half of 2012 has been awful.  In this one year I've discovered that someone captured my childhood sexual abuse in images.  I've discovered that little bits of my most painful events are now floating around the world so that anyone who really wants to can see it, enjoy it.  With those photos came all kinds of paperwork, embarrassment, shame, invasion of my privacy, and well, just a lot of things I have a hard time dealing with.  Officer Good is no longer the person who will talk to me about the case.  It's been officially transferred to Arizona.  I'm having a really hard time managing this stuff.  I don't have the words to be able to articulate just how alone I feel.  I thought I felt alone in the world before.  I had no idea just how much worse it could get in life.

There isn't really anyone out there who can really "get it."  I'm a weirdo among foster children.  I'm not fucked up enough or I'm too fucked up.  I've accomplished too much or not enough.  I seem to be stuck in this lonely middle area of former foster children.  I wish I had some friends in real life who know what it's like to grow up in foster care.  Who know what it's like to grow up in a government system.  Who know what it's like to feel like the child nobody wants.  I don't have any friends like that.  I don't know anyone in real life with an abuse history like mine.  I don't know why so much bad stuff has happened to me in life.  Sometimes I feel like all these bad things that have happened in my life are natures way of telling me I'm not supposed to be here.  Sometimes I feel like maybe I'm being punished for something.  My sister's death maybe?  Not stopping the beating of the man in the middle east?  Why has my life been so painful and just so freaking strange?  I don't blame people for doubting my story from time to time.  It's fucking unbelievable.  If I hadn't lived it, I'd think it was some poorly written, edited, and wildly unorganized novel.  I'm a freak of nature.  No therapist will ever know what to do with me and everyone reading this knows it's true.  What do you do for someone like me?  Am I too screwed up to help?  Am I hopelessly damaged?  I think I might be.  

I also lost the creature I loved most in the world this year, my best friend since I was 17.  The only one I had when there was nothing and no one in my life.  The only source of love and affection I had for a long time.  The longest relationship of my whole life.  How sad is it that a cat is the longest relationship I've ever had?  I know it's been almost 4 months since she died, but I still miss her.  There is still an endless hole in my world.  There is this painful hunger that I can't satisfy.  God, I know it's pathetic, but I miss my cat more than anything.  She was the only successful relationship I have ever really had long term.  She didn't care that I'm totally socially stunted.  She didn't care that I'm a weird, overly emotional freak.  All she cared about were cuddles, love, catnip, and Fancy Feast.

I seem to bond with animals immediately.  I don't have any of the weird freak outs over animals.  They don't ever have any weird motives for loving me back.  They just think I'm fabulous.  Nothing else and they are not afraid to let me know it.  Most people I know are not so...  What's the word?  I don't know.  All my human relationships are dysfunctional.  I either fuck things up somehow just by being me, or the people have more motives to be in my life other than just thinking I'm awesome.  I am afraid to tell many people in real life much of my history because then I seem to attract people who want to "save" or "help" me.  They want to feel good about what they are doing for me.  They want other people to validate how amazing they are for helping someone like me.  They take on this role of being my savior when that's never what I want or expect.  Maybe I create this dynamic somehow.  I don't know.  Sometimes These types of relationships seem to be on fast forward.  People want to be with me all the time in the beginning.  They spend a lot of energy trying be the person that makes a difference in my life that they eventually burn out and the time we spend together abruptly stops or slows.  I go from seeing them many times a week, to once in a while.  People get tired of me really quickly and I can feel it when it starts to happen.  They pull away and I'm always left wondering why.  What did I do?  Why don't they want to be around me anymore?  How did I fuck up this time?  Maybe they just realized that they didn't really like me much after all and being the "someone who makes a difference in my life" is way too exhausting.  I think maybe I burn people out, without even knowing how or why.  People confuse the hell out of me.  People scare me.  People hurt me.  I can feel them pull away and I freak out, so basically all of my relationships that are more than acquaintances hurt.  A lot.  I don't have many people in real life that I turn to when I "need someone to be there" because of this.  Needing people means losing people.  My cat never wanted to save me.  She never wanted to feel good about herself for making a difference in my life.  She just loved me, just because I'm me.  Because I loved her.  Why can't I find that or maintain that with people?  Maybe I wouldn't feel so alone or like such a freak because I would know that someone loves me anyway with no other motivations except that they really like me for who I am.  Nothing else.