RunnerChick
11-24-2013, 09:01 PM
Hi all! Lately I've been feeling loads better...I'm not sure what to attribute that to, but I really won't complain about that. It seems like the normal triggers seem to be less prominent for whatever reason. I'm guessing because I've found my way back to obsessive working out and calorie counting, as well as reading books and looking forward to all my nerdy films coming out that I can't wait to see. And that's kept me focused so I haven't thought much about things that normally set me off.
Naturally, as soon as I find some form of solace/am able to channel my OCD into something a bit more healthy (i.e. not gorging myself on fast food and actually forcing myself to do a run and weight training every single day), something has to come up and blow the progress into smithereens. Namely, an episode that ended (or started? I don't even know where my head is currently at...) with a massive crying fit/anxiety attack in front of 30 or so people that, over the past 10 years, I've successfully been able to convince through extensive faking that I'm just the most happy, cheerful, lucky and awesome young person everrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
I had an extremely difficult time in my childhood for a multitude of reasons, the main driver of it being the hellish relationship I had with a particular person I lived in the same house with. It was something that I'm absolutely certain caused the anxiety and depression I battle in my daily life. I'm sure a lot of people on here come from a similar background so I'm definitely preaching to the choir and not trying to garner any sympathy points there. No, I wasn't a starving child in Africa and neither was I homeless or poor or riddled with horrible ailments. I did, however, spend every waking moment of my day terrified that what I say/do/think next will result in some kind of awful berating. While I never was physically hurt (much anyway), I was constantly in the firing line for my many faults. Most of the time, the punishment for being so fat/stupid/ugly/mean/terrible/a bully/whatever else I was in this person's eyes, came in the form of spit-flying screaming fits. Many of those would remind me that, at 10, 11, 12, 13 years old, I was a demon, nobody would ever love me, I was just as awful as an ex-spouse who is no longer in the picture, god help the guy I meet one day and is stupid enough to want to marry my fat a**, I'm too stupid and will do nothing with my life because I'm worthless, my family who lives 6,000 miles away only sends me gifts because they're so happy I'm no longer living with them, and so on. It's easy to see how that could mould a person's sense of self-worth and general outlook on human interactions for the rest of their life.
ANYWAY, to cut the long and woe-be-me backstory into a more manageable length, all of this crap came to a head when I got into a completely stupid argument with my aggressor one day and somehow, after cornering me and allowing me no escape except to defend myself, I snapped so hard that it resulted in me being kicked out of my house. Fair enough, I was happy to leave my home. Sorry that I would not be able to see my pets and the rest of my family members with whom I had a normal and loving relationship. Yada yada ya, I found a job and a home and despite being depressed to the point where I couldn't get out of bed, I felt strangely free like never before because for the first time in my life I could do whatever the hell I wanted without being monitored, questioned, screamed at, and generally abused every second of the day.
NOW, almost two years later, somehow it has become absolutely crucial on my mother's part that I spend the holidays at home, where this person will be...mind you, I haven't seen or talked to this person in the span of time since I've been forced away from my home and family, because the person in question told me the police would be called if I ever set foot in the house again. SO. Why, now after I've had a chance to do some healing and close this chapter of my life, does this have to come up? Does anyone else feel like sometimes, life is just a huge cosmic joke and once you get over one awful thing/feeling/episode/chapter, something else even worse comes along? Yes, the family member(s) that are pressuring me into this keep trying to tell me how Le A**hole is trying to make an effort and make amends and that this was all his idea, but quite frankly I really can't bring myself to face this person. And my mum is hellbent on getting me to come home for the holidays despite the fact that I'd rather skin myself and set my raw flesh on fire. So now I'm in limbo...I'm being pressured endlessly from one end--the pressuring veiled by very unconvincing "but I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable ok?"--and then my own mind is like "ummmm...what the hell are you thinking?"
I am so confused and lost. I'm truly terrified of what would happen if I went home. I panicked, because my mum brought this up in public yesterday and I immediately began crying and all these people were staring at us like "huh?" It was so embarrassing. Then I tried to explain to her how even thinking about it gives me such bad anxiety that I feel like I'm gonna pass out and, in short, she's like "oh whatever we all worry when we're young. When you get to be older you'll have a different outlook on life." I wanted to smash everything in sight. I guess the thing about this that upsets me even more than having to sit face-to-face with the only person on this planet that I truly hate is the fact that the family who does say the love me so refuses to try to understand that this isn't just a stage that I'm going through, filled with silly excesses and frivolous worries. This is an actual mental illness and it hurts to have to deal with it every day.
Sorry for the rant. Even if no one reads this, it feels good to get it out.
Naturally, as soon as I find some form of solace/am able to channel my OCD into something a bit more healthy (i.e. not gorging myself on fast food and actually forcing myself to do a run and weight training every single day), something has to come up and blow the progress into smithereens. Namely, an episode that ended (or started? I don't even know where my head is currently at...) with a massive crying fit/anxiety attack in front of 30 or so people that, over the past 10 years, I've successfully been able to convince through extensive faking that I'm just the most happy, cheerful, lucky and awesome young person everrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
I had an extremely difficult time in my childhood for a multitude of reasons, the main driver of it being the hellish relationship I had with a particular person I lived in the same house with. It was something that I'm absolutely certain caused the anxiety and depression I battle in my daily life. I'm sure a lot of people on here come from a similar background so I'm definitely preaching to the choir and not trying to garner any sympathy points there. No, I wasn't a starving child in Africa and neither was I homeless or poor or riddled with horrible ailments. I did, however, spend every waking moment of my day terrified that what I say/do/think next will result in some kind of awful berating. While I never was physically hurt (much anyway), I was constantly in the firing line for my many faults. Most of the time, the punishment for being so fat/stupid/ugly/mean/terrible/a bully/whatever else I was in this person's eyes, came in the form of spit-flying screaming fits. Many of those would remind me that, at 10, 11, 12, 13 years old, I was a demon, nobody would ever love me, I was just as awful as an ex-spouse who is no longer in the picture, god help the guy I meet one day and is stupid enough to want to marry my fat a**, I'm too stupid and will do nothing with my life because I'm worthless, my family who lives 6,000 miles away only sends me gifts because they're so happy I'm no longer living with them, and so on. It's easy to see how that could mould a person's sense of self-worth and general outlook on human interactions for the rest of their life.
ANYWAY, to cut the long and woe-be-me backstory into a more manageable length, all of this crap came to a head when I got into a completely stupid argument with my aggressor one day and somehow, after cornering me and allowing me no escape except to defend myself, I snapped so hard that it resulted in me being kicked out of my house. Fair enough, I was happy to leave my home. Sorry that I would not be able to see my pets and the rest of my family members with whom I had a normal and loving relationship. Yada yada ya, I found a job and a home and despite being depressed to the point where I couldn't get out of bed, I felt strangely free like never before because for the first time in my life I could do whatever the hell I wanted without being monitored, questioned, screamed at, and generally abused every second of the day.
NOW, almost two years later, somehow it has become absolutely crucial on my mother's part that I spend the holidays at home, where this person will be...mind you, I haven't seen or talked to this person in the span of time since I've been forced away from my home and family, because the person in question told me the police would be called if I ever set foot in the house again. SO. Why, now after I've had a chance to do some healing and close this chapter of my life, does this have to come up? Does anyone else feel like sometimes, life is just a huge cosmic joke and once you get over one awful thing/feeling/episode/chapter, something else even worse comes along? Yes, the family member(s) that are pressuring me into this keep trying to tell me how Le A**hole is trying to make an effort and make amends and that this was all his idea, but quite frankly I really can't bring myself to face this person. And my mum is hellbent on getting me to come home for the holidays despite the fact that I'd rather skin myself and set my raw flesh on fire. So now I'm in limbo...I'm being pressured endlessly from one end--the pressuring veiled by very unconvincing "but I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable ok?"--and then my own mind is like "ummmm...what the hell are you thinking?"
I am so confused and lost. I'm truly terrified of what would happen if I went home. I panicked, because my mum brought this up in public yesterday and I immediately began crying and all these people were staring at us like "huh?" It was so embarrassing. Then I tried to explain to her how even thinking about it gives me such bad anxiety that I feel like I'm gonna pass out and, in short, she's like "oh whatever we all worry when we're young. When you get to be older you'll have a different outlook on life." I wanted to smash everything in sight. I guess the thing about this that upsets me even more than having to sit face-to-face with the only person on this planet that I truly hate is the fact that the family who does say the love me so refuses to try to understand that this isn't just a stage that I'm going through, filled with silly excesses and frivolous worries. This is an actual mental illness and it hurts to have to deal with it every day.
Sorry for the rant. Even if no one reads this, it feels good to get it out.