My family recently experienced an unimaginable loss and it has made me start to think. A lot. Which is generally dangerous.
It’s amazing what I am willing to share with all of you… I am willing to strip myself bare for all of you, when to be honest, I don’t think I could verbally articulate the words I share here. Hell, these posts end up on my Twitter and Facebook pages – some of you may be reading this from my high school, haven’t talked to you in years and yet, here I am. Sharing my vulnerable moments.
My secret is I am the most insecure person you will ever meet. Literally. Maybe this disease has made me vulnerable to insecurities… but I think back and I have always been insecure. I have always wanted to be the “cool girl” but could never quite make it. I have always been self-deprecating (minus the excessive modesty part).
I guess my point is I feel as if I have always been the person to be willing to take on everyone’s emotional baggage. Maybe so I never really had to deal with my own. Maybe I am just selfish enough to think I can cure the world of it’s suffering and madness.
I am exceptional at alienating people and then blaming them for abandoning me. Maybe “I” isn’t the right term… my monster? Who knows anymore. As I begin to “accept” this disease into my life I am beginning to lose a grip on who I am. It gets more and more difficult to discern Amanda vs. the MD… I feel like either I am becoming Amanda again, or becoming the monster. Somebody has to win…
As I begin the last legs of tapering off my benzo I feel more and more dissociated from myself. I feel less needed by people. I feel like I need people more. I don’t reach out and ask for help because… well… what’s the point? I feel pissy and short-tempered. I am always jealous. Jealous of what I don’t have, jealous of what I will never have, jealous of what I see my friends doing for their other friends.
I have said before I know how high maintenance I am to have as a friend. I wouldn’t want to be my friend.
When I have the balls to share these feelings with Matt he asks me what I want and I just say I don’t know – because I don’t. I feel like a hormonal, pissy 15 year old. I don’t know what I want. A connection? To feel needed? To understand myself so others have a chance to?