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Healing.
9 years ago
I have been dreading this journal for years because I was in such deep denial of what was happening to me. I wanted to keep personal and online life as far away as possible, but my endeavor to do so has ruined my presence as an artist. I was afraid to face the truth, so instead I fabricated this life where nothing was wrong...well, here it goes.
Extremely long story short...I've been the victim of mental abuse by my mother. It is completely unintentional, but it has harmed me in such away that...for a while...I just sat in literal darkness and hoped something or someone would take me in my sleep. I ignored/denied it for so long until my partner had to shake up my world, begging me to seek help or else my own room was going to become my grave.
The long list of what I have been suffering encompasses the better part of six years, the most prominent being the neglect of my health. For a while, things were going well. I was seeing a doctor regularly for a prolapse issue and we were about to schedule an operation that would, for back of better words, cure me. Then things just...stopped. I stopped seeing my specialist, my pleas to get the operation done were ignored and for I while I had to accept that bleeding 24/7 and pain were the new norm of my lifestyle. Jobs dropped me because I kept bleeding out at work...and ever since then I have been kept prisoner inside my home..save the occasional trip to see my partner and such.
I've been begging for the operation only to be ignored and, occasionally, be met with anger. Eventually I shrugged it off...until my brother got into his accident. He needed immediate surgery and he, well, received it right away because he needed to work. Well, I needed to work too and have been waiting months to get something done about it..but I let it go due to the stressful nature of the situation.
Then, my brother needed another operation to remove an ingrown hair. He received the care he needed overnight. I felt put on the back burner, forgotten...but yanno, I let it go because he needed it right? I mean, if I continued to neglect my surgery it meant I would be hooked up to a catheter for the rest of my life...but hey, whatever. I began to care less and less.
Soon, I asked to lie to my psychiatrist about how bad I was becoming. He'd probe me about my lack of a job, lack of my prolapse getting fixed...and each time I nervously looked to mom for answers. She would then dismiss the whole ordeal, explaining the care of my grandfather was more immediate. Which I agreed, he was on the decline and needed the extra care..so I shrugged it off.
I could go on forever...but, recently, things have become..bleak. I barely left my room, barely turned on the lights even. I slept all day, only to wake to occasionally go to the bathroom and eat a literal handful of something. I had given up on eating at all (due to severe body image issues but that's a whoooole kettle of fish by itself), but mom praised my weight loss. I was weak and hungry all the time but hey, I was losing weight! That meant I was good for something, right?
UUuh anyway, I guess the point of all this is to apologize. I gave up on everything, including myself. I began ignoring notes, emails, anything. I quit art altogether because I found it pointless...I wasn't going anywhere with it so why bother? I just wanted to sit and misery and hope that, one day, I found the courage to end my life. But I was too afraid to do anything of that nature...so I just sorta..quit functioning. I quit going out, I quit talking to friends, I quit everything. The only thing I knew was sleep..but even my dreams were becoming hostile. I wasn't safe anywhere.
My partner gave me a choice...to continue until eventually I did die, or try to do something about it. At first I was frustrated because I gave all these excuses as to why I would not allow myself to get better...but I caught myself. I wasn't trying anymore because I convinced myself that I wasn't worth the effort.
This is an extremely long journal and doesn't even cover half of what's been going on in my home...but I am going to try to fix it. I want to be better, stronger, more reliable...I don't want to be seen as a bad person. I want to be good. I want to be happy and make people happy. It may take time, but it's a start. Today I turned my lights on for the first time in three weeks. I ate something until my weakness went away. I put on clean clothes and did some research on medication. I am beginning to try again and it feels weird. But I gotta.
So, I apologize for ghosting for all these years. For taking on too much work. For disappointing all you guys. I did a lot of bad things to a lot of good people, broke a lot of trust. I want to be better...so that starts today. Even though I am anxious to go through everything, I need to. I may not get it ALL done today, or tomorrow, but I am going to push until x amount gets done everyday. I am going to try falling in love with my art again. I just..want to be happy and spread happiness.
This is so long I am so sorry! But uh, my poor tired brain has run out of things to say at this point. Thank you for listening, for your patience, for your support. I don't forget or haven't forgotten anyone or anything. I just..needed to believe in myself again.
Extremely long story short...I've been the victim of mental abuse by my mother. It is completely unintentional, but it has harmed me in such away that...for a while...I just sat in literal darkness and hoped something or someone would take me in my sleep. I ignored/denied it for so long until my partner had to shake up my world, begging me to seek help or else my own room was going to become my grave.
The long list of what I have been suffering encompasses the better part of six years, the most prominent being the neglect of my health. For a while, things were going well. I was seeing a doctor regularly for a prolapse issue and we were about to schedule an operation that would, for back of better words, cure me. Then things just...stopped. I stopped seeing my specialist, my pleas to get the operation done were ignored and for I while I had to accept that bleeding 24/7 and pain were the new norm of my lifestyle. Jobs dropped me because I kept bleeding out at work...and ever since then I have been kept prisoner inside my home..save the occasional trip to see my partner and such.
I've been begging for the operation only to be ignored and, occasionally, be met with anger. Eventually I shrugged it off...until my brother got into his accident. He needed immediate surgery and he, well, received it right away because he needed to work. Well, I needed to work too and have been waiting months to get something done about it..but I let it go due to the stressful nature of the situation.
Then, my brother needed another operation to remove an ingrown hair. He received the care he needed overnight. I felt put on the back burner, forgotten...but yanno, I let it go because he needed it right? I mean, if I continued to neglect my surgery it meant I would be hooked up to a catheter for the rest of my life...but hey, whatever. I began to care less and less.
Soon, I asked to lie to my psychiatrist about how bad I was becoming. He'd probe me about my lack of a job, lack of my prolapse getting fixed...and each time I nervously looked to mom for answers. She would then dismiss the whole ordeal, explaining the care of my grandfather was more immediate. Which I agreed, he was on the decline and needed the extra care..so I shrugged it off.
I could go on forever...but, recently, things have become..bleak. I barely left my room, barely turned on the lights even. I slept all day, only to wake to occasionally go to the bathroom and eat a literal handful of something. I had given up on eating at all (due to severe body image issues but that's a whoooole kettle of fish by itself), but mom praised my weight loss. I was weak and hungry all the time but hey, I was losing weight! That meant I was good for something, right?
UUuh anyway, I guess the point of all this is to apologize. I gave up on everything, including myself. I began ignoring notes, emails, anything. I quit art altogether because I found it pointless...I wasn't going anywhere with it so why bother? I just wanted to sit and misery and hope that, one day, I found the courage to end my life. But I was too afraid to do anything of that nature...so I just sorta..quit functioning. I quit going out, I quit talking to friends, I quit everything. The only thing I knew was sleep..but even my dreams were becoming hostile. I wasn't safe anywhere.
My partner gave me a choice...to continue until eventually I did die, or try to do something about it. At first I was frustrated because I gave all these excuses as to why I would not allow myself to get better...but I caught myself. I wasn't trying anymore because I convinced myself that I wasn't worth the effort.
This is an extremely long journal and doesn't even cover half of what's been going on in my home...but I am going to try to fix it. I want to be better, stronger, more reliable...I don't want to be seen as a bad person. I want to be good. I want to be happy and make people happy. It may take time, but it's a start. Today I turned my lights on for the first time in three weeks. I ate something until my weakness went away. I put on clean clothes and did some research on medication. I am beginning to try again and it feels weird. But I gotta.
So, I apologize for ghosting for all these years. For taking on too much work. For disappointing all you guys. I did a lot of bad things to a lot of good people, broke a lot of trust. I want to be better...so that starts today. Even though I am anxious to go through everything, I need to. I may not get it ALL done today, or tomorrow, but I am going to push until x amount gets done everyday. I am going to try falling in love with my art again. I just..want to be happy and spread happiness.
This is so long I am so sorry! But uh, my poor tired brain has run out of things to say at this point. Thank you for listening, for your patience, for your support. I don't forget or haven't forgotten anyone or anything. I just..needed to believe in myself again.
It's hard and scary, but you can do it! You'll come out of it on the other side and you'll be so happy you did.
thank you so much <33 i am looking forward to believing in myself again, slowly but surely!
I know it's a lot to spill your guts to folks about something as horrible and embarrassing as a physical ailment, and mental neglect, especially with your case being so severe. An average person often can't handle things like that on their own. And with not being in your shoes, family often don't realize how horribly crippling the feeling of being shrugged off is. Not only once, but over and over.. Family is always, *always* supposed to come first no matter what.
Above all of that, sometimes you need to be 'selfish' and focus on healing yourself first. If your mother wasn't willing to see that you were in such a state and actually DO something about it, then she needs to readjust her glasses or somethin' because that's awful sickening how far she's let this go. I hope that once you've come around and mended your hurts, even on your own, she realizes how little she truly knows about you and your worth as a living, breathing being. Please, please stay strong and know that there are a lot of folks that are rooting for you. Good luck on your endeavors, and please don't forget how precious your place in this world is. You are so very, very lucky to have a partner who helped bring some perspective, and I hope they're feeling as much relief as you are at your first steps towards recovery.