Posted by Annabelle Smith on May 18, 2011, at 14:29:33
In reply to Hurting, posted by Annabelle Smith on May 17, 2011, at 23:05:07
I feel so f*ck*ng enraged. For no reason that I can tell, I just feel so angry. I don't know what to do to release this anger. I went for a drive in my car, blasted the music, and cussed out a lot of people out loud while alone. I feel rage and hatred towards my therapist, and even allow myself to feel this rage-- and I still don't know what to do.
I want to rip into my body, tear my skin to shreds, scratch, destroy. I want to destroy something, my body, myself, something.
It alternates a fine line between rage and depression-- I feel like I am teetering on this line. After my God awful session yesterday, the rest of the day was ruined. I went to my favorite coffee shop to read and relax-- I finished up a book that really made me feel inspired-- Chaim Potok's "The Chosen." Sometimes fiction helps me. I can enter into the story and my world fades as I enter into a newly created one. I can sometimes identify with the characters to the point that I feel like I am them, even after I am done reading. I could definitely identify with the characters in this book. One character, Danny, struggles with what it means to be his own self as he leaves the family, traditions, and identity of his childhood. Potok is a phenomenal writer and person. After I finished that book, I went to the bookstore and got a new book-- I have been needing to read Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" but think that I would have been better off with another Potok book, as Plath's book is depressing so far and not that inspiring. All of this helped a little, but last night I felt so enraged again.
I got home around 7, and my mom came home from work shortly thereafter. I felt like I needed to get out of the house, but felt guilty leaving my mom. My dad is always working until 1am, so when my mom gets home, she eats dinner, then goes to sit on the couch. Usually she watches tv for a while or reads and then falls asleep. It makes me want to scream. It seems so hopeless. I felt so hopeless. I felt so trapped. I think she is so trapped. So I came into my room later on an typed the first post.
I am well aware that supposedly, depression is often a result of repressed rage that has turned inward to the self. So much for being caused by f*ck*ng chemical imbalance-- such Americanized, Capitalism-driven b*llsh*t. I think the theory of repressed rage is correct. It is for me. There are roots to my problem, and I can discern them. My professor recommended a book to my by Alice Miller called "The Drama of the Gifted Child: The Search for the True Self." I bought that book today. I have already started it-- but while I can see her points, they don't seem that true in my case. Seriously, that all of my problems just go back to my relationship with my mom and my parents. I feel like this is devaluing and I partly reject it in its totality.
But last night was awful. I couldn't sleep well. I cried myself to sleep and my back hurt so bad. It still hurts, like a low, dull ache. I thought it was even my scoliosis flaring up bad again, but it is this depression ache, because I know it when it comes.
I dread tomorrow. My parents and I are driving to visit my grandfather in a rural part of the state about 2 1/2 hours away. We will spend the day there and the night. I love my grandfather and love to see him, but the thought of being cooped up there with my parents for nearly two days seems nearly intolerable right now. I have always had such feelings at my grandfather's house. I used to have some of my worst binges there. I would sneak into the kitchen and watch to make sure no one was coming. Then I would eat pieces of desserts, sometimes up to 3 or 4 different kinds at once. I would take handfuls of food to other rooms or outside and secretly eat very quickly. I would always gain weight there and get very sick after the binges, a feeling which only led to more binges. The gaping emptiness opens up when I go there.
The house, like my own house, feels empty and haunted by the echoes of former times and people. Haunted by my grandmother and her cooking and hugs. There are echoes and fragments everywhere. In my own house I am also haunted by the echoes and shadows. Sometimes I sense the presence of a little girl who is so full of life. She is different ages, sometimes older, sometimes younger, but mostly 4 or 5. She plays. And runs around. She loves her mom very much. And her dad and her brother. Life is exciting for her and is so full. It dances with colors and she lives a different kind of existence. But when I see her, I feel sad. So full of loss and grief and loneliness. She will find that one day too.
*Now, everything that I have written here. I want to tell my therapist this stuff. All of it. But I don't know how. This is all true. But I don't know how to tell sometime that I cried myself to sleep, that I want to rip into my body, that I feel haunted by these things. I don't know how to say these things without sounding stupid, without devaluing them. That's why I speak indirectly. The only way for me to tell him is to read it or have him read it. I am afraid that he will get bored, maybe that he will zone out, or even fall asleep. Worst, I am afraid that it is stupid. And not only would this be stupid, but so too would I be stupid.
I feel so alone.
poster:Annabelle Smith
thread:985601
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20110511/msgs/985633.html