I feel like some creature has taken over my body. This lunatic did not used to be me. I used to be relatively sane. I swear! I used to have my act together, and now I'm losing my mind. No, I think it's already lost. I can't find my mind. It's gone. Forever? God, what if it is?
I cannot stand this creature I have become. I don't know what is wrong with me. I hate myself more and more everyday. I feel crazier and crazier everyday. I screw up everything good in my life. I don't deserve friends or family or anything. I'm too screwed up. I just pull people down with me. I suck them dry. I can't ever fill my empty cup, so I end up depleting the cups of those who dare take a peek into my private (well not so private now that I have a blog) world.
Today...er, yesterday I went to a friends house. I was feeling really great all day. I had decided not to work on the Victim Impact Statement, and was feeling pretty solid, and grounded today. Honest, I was. I wanted to support a friend, so I go over to her house. Somehow we end up chatting about me. Why? Why do I make everything about me? I tried to change the subject a few times, but it never worked. I'm a horrible friend.
I asked my friend to help me burn some papers that I've been carrying around with me since I was 8. They are pretty screwed up letters to myself, covered in blood from cutting since I was 8 or 9 or whatever. So we went on her porch, and I emptied my little pouch of bandaids, papers, and razorblades. One by one we burned my letters, until nothing but a pile of ash was left. You'd think it'd be simple for me to get rid of these disgusting things, but they've become a kind of fucked up security blanket for me. I would take them out and hold them, read them, cut myself, keep reading them. Sleep with them near me. It's crazy. I know it is.
So we burned them, and they my friend wants to delete the photos in my phone of Maggie and Tim's house. I pull them up on my phone and get stuck. I'm stuck in that fucking house with those stupid rubber ducky tiles. I give me phone to her to delete them, but I'm already lost in that house, fighting to come back. To be present in this world. A world where I am big and in control. I feel the panic coming. Normally I have more warning, but I was lost in my head and not paying attention to my body.
I started to panic and tried to leave but she wouldn't let me. Did she hand me ice cubes? I think so, but I'm not entirely sure. All I could concentrate on was that I couldn't breathe and I wanted to leave. I'm not sure how I went from the kitchen to the sofa, but somehow we were on the sofa, me freaking out with arms around me. I panicked, hyperventilated for who knows how long and then the worst part is... I passed out. Like, totally passed out. Fell asleep? I don't know what that means. It's happened to me before. It's more like I faint and then wake up, but this time I passed out and fell asleep and couldn't wake up. It's so beyond mortifying. I cannot believe that happened. I don't know why it happened. This seems so dramatic to you guys, but it's so scary to me. These things are dramatic, but they are happening to me and to the people in my life. I'm so scared that this is my future. I'll never have a normal life. My life is going to consist of failed relationships, panic attacks, and self hatred. What kind of life is that? What is wrong with me? Really? What is happening to me? I feel like some sort of succubus has taken over my body. Or maybe this is just all that is left of me? I can't live this way.
I think my friend got worried and called my gf. My gf came to get me and my friend ran back into her house. Angry? Freaked out? Probably. I would be. Fuck. I AM. My gf asks me to get in the car, but I say I want to walk home and she drives passed me. I wanted to walk home because she will only make things harder for me. She would bombard me with questions and judgements and I needed to clear my head and calm down. When I get home-- I'm sobbing. She says that I'm fine, that I should just calm down. Then she pats my head and says goodnight. I am sobbing on the sofa, so mortified and terrified about what's happening to me. This isn't me. I freaking swear to everything that this isn't me. At least, it's not who I used to be. Where am I? I feel so lost. So very lost. I have another panic attack. My girlfriend texts me from the bedroom, like three feet away. "BTW, did
you know nora ephron died??? Sad." That is sad, but why does she think about that now, while I'm hyperventilating on the sofa? I know she can hear me. My apartment is like 400 square feet.
I don't deserve friends. I really don't. All I do is hurt people. I scare people. My life is full of so much drama, but I'm the one who creates it and I hate it. I can't stand it. I'm mortified by it. My head....my life is spinning like a pinwheel in a hurricane. It's scary, and lonely, and so fucked up. I am losing my mind. I really am fucked up and I've been fucked up my whole life. I wasn't like normal little girls, and I'm not like normal women. Little Campbell was fucked up. Big Campbell is still fucked up.
I absolutely fuck up everything in my life. I cannot stand myself. I'm a fucking lunatic. A complete fucking
lunatic. I don't deserve friends. I don't deserve family. I don't
deserve anything. I can't let anyone close to me because I suck
them dry. I'm so fucking crazy.
I'm really sorry friend. No one needs this kind of shit in their lives. I'm so beyond disgusted and mortified. This was not supposed to happen. I'm so ashamed and embarrassed and so very sad that all I seem to do is add drama to the life of someone I really care about. I want to crawl into a small, narrow, black hole and wait until it's over. I'm not a good person. I'm a self absorbed, dramatic, psychotic piece of shit. I keep saying I swear this isn't me, but how many times can I say that before I realize that this really is me? This is who I am now. The girl I used to be is gone. Forever. And she's never coming back. This is who I am. And I can't live with her.