UnValidated...

" Sometimes the people around you won't understand your journey. They don't need to, it's not for them." -Anonymous

         Deflected. That is what it feels like when someone makes excuses to not sympathize with how you are feeling. I get irritated when someone assumes that because I am upset about something, that it is because of my mental illness. As if, I am not allowed to have true feelings unless it is related to my OCD. Like somehow my OCD means that I can not truthfully be angry or hurt. It matters not what has transpired during my day or what situation I am facing. Crying or showing otherwise perfectly normal emotional responses to something is thrown back in my face because, surely it is my mental illness's fault and not because I am truly upset over something. It can't be because I had a shitty day. It has to be because I have OCD. And since I do have OCD, my feelings are just overreactions. My diagnosis has fundamentally colored the way I am perceived. And I am apparently perceived as someone who can not feel unless my mental illness is dictating it.

I know it may be hard to believe, but just like everyone else I am a human being. And being a human means that on occasion, I actually have human feelings. And they can be trampled on or hurt. (Go figure.)

         Few things hurt  more than when I am discussing my feelings on something and someone's response to it, is that I need to get back on my medicine. (I have medication resistant OCD). I don't think it is meant to be insulting on purpose but it is insulting all the same.  What you may be saying is that I am really passionate about whatever we are talking about or that I am really upset, but what I hear is the soft click of the door of communication as it closes tightly shut behind me. What I hear is that you do not care about my feelings. What I hear is that you can not get on my level and understand where I am coming from. What I hear is that my opinion is not important and my feelings are annoying and should be kept to myself, lest I bother anyone else with them. You may not know it, but these few simple words have effectively swept my emotions under the heavily stained, moth eaten carpet that everyone has trampled and wiped their dirt covered feet on.  It pushes my feelings away and crushes them down. Leaving me to feel misunderstood, extremely frustrated, unbelievably isolated, a tad bit devastated, and just plain sad. No one likes to feel ignored or swept aside and it is no different for those of us that suffer from mental illness.

       
       Even when I was on medication, if I had a moment when I was struggling or upset with something that had nothing to do with my mental illness at all, I would be asked, "Did you take your meds today?"

       I wanted to scream,"What the hell does my medication have to do with the validation of how I am feeling? Is it not possible for you to see me as a whole person? To see me as someone who is hurting? What does it matter even if it is my mental illness making me feel this way, are my emotions any less important? Any less valid? Do I not still feel them just as deeply? Why are my emotions ignored and overlooked and dismissed just because I suffer?"

I want to yell these things, but I usually end up just ending the conversation. Because once my feelings have been rebuffed by someone, I have a very hard time trusting that someone with them again.

        I can not begin to tell you how incredibly hurtful the medication question is. If you really think about it, it is more of a statement rather than a question. It says you are judging me. It says, albeit subtly and well hidden, that I don't have a right to have feelings let alone express them because they clearly aren't real. It implies that no one that has mental illness has any real emotions. They are a figment of our fractured minds and therefore do not need to be validated or listened to. They are immediately suspect and mistrusted. They are almost always looked at with a wary eye and a half closed ear.


        I mean yes, sometimes my mental illness affects my mood or causes me to react a certain way. But that is not every single time I feel an emotion. When someone has been a complete asshat to me and it hurts my feelings, I get pissed. I do not get pissed because I have OCD. I get pissed because someone has been a complete asshat to me and has hurt my feelings. I should not have to explain that. I should not have to validate that to someone else. I have a right to feel the way I feel about things.

 We are not emotional zombies. We are people.


       Asking me if I have taken my pills when I am upset makes me feel like I have to constantly validate my feelings when I feel them. It makes me start to feel as if I am not trustworthy of my own emotions. Like somehow, I am defunct and incapable. That my feelings are not important on the basis that I am mentally ill and because of that, those feelings have no merit.  Your feelings count and are treated as such. So should ours.  There shouldn't be this overwhelming need to explain why we aren't faking it or not overreacting. There should be no long drawn out explanation we have to give every time we are upset by something. Our feelings matter and they are very real to us. That should be more than good enough for everyone else.

         Somehow people with mental illness are always asked to defend how they feel about something and I hate that. I hate that I have to feel like my emotions are not my own and it is okay for them to be sterilized and whitewashed over simply because I have OCD.  My feelings are not a old barn door that needs to be reclaimed and painted over. They are not grimy bed linens that need to be washed clean with bleach. They are not distasteful and something to look down upon. They are simply feelings. Not something to be scrubbed away or sanitized.  Being told I need to water down my emotions when I am hurting is total bullshit and I vehemently resent it.

We are not exempt from feeling things. We are no different than anyone else.

            I am not asking you to understand every single thing we feel. We don't expect that from you. What I am asking is that you be compassionate. That you be kind. That you listen without ridicule or judgement. That you offer support just as we do you when you are upset or hurting. That is all I want. That is all any of us want. It really isn't that complicated. We just want to be heard. We just want to not have our feelings glossed over, ignored, omitted, or have them remain unvalidated. No one deserves to remain unvalidated.

You wouldn't like if we treated you like your views and emotions were pointless, so please don't do that to us either,

Neurotic Nelly

You Ever Get That Feeling....

You ever get that feeling that the people you thought would most understand you on a very basic level, completely misunderstand everything about you and everything that you do? 

Yea, it's been one of "those" kind of weeks. I am still trying to recover from it all and I feel really down in the dumps and frustrated. I was hoping to have excellent news to share today. I was hoping to have an upbeat post that was inspiring and left you with the feeling of content. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen. So if that was the kind of post you were hoping to read today, you might want to stop reading this right now.

Or now....

Definitely by now...

Okay, you have been warned.....

It started when I talked to a dear friend the other day. I was explaining some issues with my kids and I don't know what I was actually expecting....support maybe? A friend's compassion? I don't know. What I got felt more like judgment and maybe a tad bit of stigma....not the greatest of conversations, I assure you. I am not sure that was her intention, she is a very busy person and has a lot going on. I caught her at a busy moment so that may have had something to do with it. I can't really spread conjecture on her state of mind or on how she thought the conversation went, but for me it felt like a heart break. I felt misunderstood and possibly blamed. I have no idea how I am supposed to get over the lump in my throat every time I think about it. I am sure we will get over this issue but at the same time, now I am afraid to share things about myself and family I would have never thought would be an off topic.  I am afraid I will be wounded again.


Then it was the doctor's office today. I don't even know where to start. I thought my doctor would be happy that I have lost twenty pounds in two months. That I have been keeping my blood sugar down to excellent levels. I am pretty sure I am actually borderline and not full blown diabetic and she had originally put me on two metaformin a day. Something that made me violently ill. She then put me on one a day, and since I have lost the weight it has been really hard for me to make sure my sugar doesn't go too low. No missing meals for me. At it's lowest it was 79. Not super low but anything 70 and under can be extremely dangerous.

She was mad at me. Because I ate. I had to, as I explained, because when I miss a meal my blood sugar dips way down. She didn't care. She said next time just make the appointment in the morning.....Now, I am no rocket scientist, but I eat at 6.a.m. when the doctor's office is still closed and that means to have an appointment where I haven't eaten would have to be noon. Which would be fine, except you sit in her office for a while and by the time she got in to see me, it would be really low. How is that safe?

I was hoping I had lost enough weight to get off the metaformin. I suppose not....not that she said anything about it. I felt completely invisible. How does one feel invisible while participating in a doctor's appointment about oneself? I dunno, but apparently it is possible.

Then the actual reason besides the check up, that I went to see her was totally ignored. She snapped at me again when I asked her what my blood sugar level was and then recanted when my numbers where excellent...Yea, no kidding. 

To top it off she then said she couldn't give me a flu shot because they were out, but she couldn't look me in the eye when she said this and I was pretty sure she was lying and just didn't want to have to write it up and give it to me. She told me to go to my pharmacy. Well, that would work except none of the places giving out the flu shot take my insurance. So I would have to pay out of pocket, when in my doctor's office it is totally covered by my insurance. I mean, what the hell lady? Yea, to say I was angry would be putting it mildly. And then after all of her being rude and snarky about me eating, and how my tests would be faulty now that I ate, she made me get the blood tests anyway. Now I ask you, how does any of this make any sense?

Short answer...it doesn't. I knew we had crossed a line of no return when she made me take the meds but never said I was actually diabetic. Nor did she tell me to get a machine and check it. I mean who does that? You are diabetic but don't bother checking your blood sugar...I found out my levels were one point over normal when she "diagnosed" me.  Now it has been nothing but one big hassle and she doesn't even take the time to explain anything to me.

I need a new doctor. I have decided I can't trust her in any fashion. And it bothers me that now I have spend all day tomorrow trying to find a new one. The anxiety is overwhelming. I am frustrated. I feel like vomiting when I even think about doing it.

And that is how anxiety works. I don't know what others expect from me, but when I feel like I am being judged or blamed, I get anxiety. I suffer from an anxiety disorder...go figure.

I feel like those that should understand me don't and trying to explain it to them in a way that totally makes sense to them sometimes feels like I am banging my head up against the wall. I am not alright. I am not always as capable as I appear and yes, spending the whole day trying to find a doctor that will actually listen to my concerns and answer my questions seems like a daunting task. It seems to me like climbing Mt. Everest. So there. I never claimed to be perfect or even healthy. I am not. I have a mental illness and sometimes it rears it's ugly head and I am left to deal with all of the fallout alone. I am sorry if it inconveniences anyone or takes up their lunch hour. I am just trying to get through my issues and live my life....sue me.

And that is where the frustration comes in....I have known both of these people for years, many years and I am dumbfounded as to how in the hell neither of them understand me at all. Dumbfounded. I wish it was only them, but alas  there are tons of people that just don't get what is wrong with me. Even those that understand somewhat, have moments of obscured believability and it just makes me sad. And tired. Mostly tired....I am just tired.

Sick and tired of trying to explain, make excuses, prove that I have what I say I have and how it affects me, and that it isn't because I am lazy or distracted, or looking for attention. My God, if it were only so simple as that. 

I guess I am just wounded. I feel judged and ignored, placated and disillusioned. I guess my heart is broken. My nerve endings are burnt. My feelings are raw. I just over all want to go sit somewhere quiet and cry. Sigh, see I told you this post wasn't hopeful or fun...

I know it will all work out for the best. I know that getting a new doctor is a must for any sense of freaking sanity. I know that this too shall pass, but until then everything kinda sucks right now.

Oh well, I will post again on Thursday and maybe things will be a lot better. Thanks for always being there for me. I really am glad there are people like me that understand what this hell is like. I am so glad to not truly be alone.

Neurotic Nelly 

Deepen the Pull.......

I wear my heart like a wet, red stain on the breast of a velvet gown..........

this describes me completely. It is a quote from my favorite poem A Well Worn Story by Dorothy Parker. It might as well be my mantra, my call sign, my epitaph.

I bruise too easily. I am too sensitive, too open, too accepting, too forgiving, too kind. I give and give and give till I have nothing left but the air in my mouth and lint in my pockets. I bruise. I break. I falter. I fall down.

I end up with nothing left. Nothing left of my strength. Nothing left of my will power. Nothing left of my soul except the gaping whole were it should be. I have allowed myself to be hurt again.

I accept people too freely. I always jump head first into friendships. I go with the emotions I feel. If they say this is your friend then I do not question. I always try to see things from their point of view. I always try to be conscious of their feelings and wants. I try to a be supportive of their needs. I may not always totally understand them but I spend almost every breath trying. Because I feel that is what friends do. Maybe I am wrong. I am no longer sure.

Sometimes I wish I were a self obsessed jerk. A narcissistic tool that cared nothing about other's feelings. How nice would it be to not worry about if what I have done hurts others? How nice would it be to finally not feel so deeply for those that don't give two turtle turds what I am going through? How nice would it be to so wrapped up in myself to not drop everything for someone who would not, could not, or chooses not to do the same for me? How nice would it be not to be the puppet whose strings are being pulled every which way just to see if I can dance? How nice would it be to not feel the disappointment and sting of being manipulated, lied to, and used yet again?

What has it gotten me? To be nice, sweet, and open? What the hell good is it? Really, I would like to know. What is the point of it all when it only gets me pain and despair? When time and time again my blind trust is burned to the ground like some kind of  sacrificial viking ship. Set it out to sea and set it a lite. What do I achieve by being this way except to become a beacon that draws the users and manipulators like some deranged bug zapper. "Please be my friend just make sure that you stab me directly in the heart when you get a chance. The heart or the back, either or, just make sure the knife is sharp and you smile while you do it."
What fresh hell is this? What is the point? My urge to help others, to love others, to accept others is more of a noose rather than something to admire. It slowly closes in threatening to cut off my airway and yet that deepens the pull.  All that has to be said is that I hurt someone and the guilt washes over me like salt water stinging and burning the cracks in my skin. Pointing out battle scars I didn't even realize I had. I am so exhausted of it all.

The worst part is I can not change this about myself. I have tried. It's my personality. A personality that is more flawed than good. My heart has been shattered like glass so often I am afraid I might run out of glue. My self esteem has abandoned me. My nerves are left feeling raw and my tongue is scorched. I feel tethered to the ground unable to shed this sadistic cycle of guilt and agony. It is like a disease if you will. An incurable disease to care for others too much and I so wish there was some magic potion to make it all go away. I don't want to care anymore.

To have to read or listen to where I went wrong or what I have done that wasn't good enough is tiring. I can not be everyone's everything. I can't even be myself half of the time. I can recite my flaws. I guess I couldn't give enough. I couldn't continue to be emotionally torn. I guess I am quitter. A bad soul. Not Christian enough. Because I turned away I suppose putting myself first finally has made me a horrid excuse of a person. I guess that is what I have become.

My biggest problem is I allow others to hurt me. I wear my heart like a wet red stain on the breast of a velvet gown instead of locking it up in a titanium safe, under the subway transit, buried beneath large boulders, and encased in cement. I seriously wish I could. Then maybe I could not have to hurt so very much. I would no longer have to be vulnerable. Vulnerable sucks.

Here's your sharpened blade back....I don't need it anymore....I have enough knife wholes in my back already.

Letter to a Friend

Dear Friend,
Sometimes in life we falter. Sometimes everything seems to go awry. We are angry, confused, and  afraid. Can we live without this person? Can we function on a daily basis? Can we be anything but broken?
We fall from Grace like broken winged angels no longer able to fly.We are all the walking wounded. We have all been damaged. Damaged by our past, by others, by ourselves. Damaged by our choices, by our environments, by our refusal to accept ourselves. We bump into each other on the sidewalks never looking into each other's faces. Never bothering to see the other person stumbling along beside us. We are sometimes concentrated on our own lives so intently that we forget to see other's suffering. We limp along thinking we are the only one's hurting.
We walk along the lonely road shivering in the cold. Believing that we are not worth the time wasted on us. Believing that we deserve to suffer. Some of us have fought for our country. Some of us have fought only for our souls. Some of us have fought wars in our own minds. All of us have waged war against our beliefs. Against our personal truths. Waged wars in our own lives. Sometimes we loose loved ones. Sometimes the binds that tie us together are broken and we are left shattered on the ground. Sometimes we loose our livelihoods. We are left with nothing but the clothes on our back and no shoes upon our feet. Sometimes we loose ourselves. Leaving a stranger blinking back in the mirror.
I do not know why we suffer so, I am not a great philosopher.  I do believe we suffer to be able to accept joy when it comes. I believe that as the binds that tie us together get severed we are able to form new ones with others. I believe that this life makes us strong.
I can not be where you are. Our lives circle in different paths. That does not mean I do not see you. That does not mean I do not hear you. I have lived in the hell you are visiting for so long I chose the wallpaper. I hope you like blue butterflies and yellow stripes.
We are distrusting. We often feel invisible. We believe that nothing is given to us without expectations or strings attached. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. To be pulled into something that will hurt us.
This letter to you is my offering. My gift to you. I only have one expectation. That you take my gift of friendship without fear or distrust.  You said once that you didn't think I was put in your life to watch over you. I am sure that is true but why are any of us put in anyone's life? Maybe it is to help you. Maybe it is to help me. Maybe it is to teach us something. I have always believed that people come into your life for a reason. To help, to teach, to befriend, to learn. I can not tell you what to do. What I can do is listen. What I can do be there for you. What I can do is never judge.  What I can  do is text you your positive truths. You are worthy of happiness. You are talented. You are beautiful. What you have to say is important. You are worthy of other's people's time. You are strong. You are a caring and amazing person. You are you and there is no one in the world like you.  You are my friend. The world would be a sadder more bitter place without you.  These are your truths. We are all the walking wounded and I am thankful that I get to stumble along beside you for awhile.
                                      Sincerely, Neurotic Nelly