Friday, February 13, 2009

i want back what i was (Sylvia Plath, "Eyemote")

The first time I used the internet to help myself access mental health assistance was 1996. Around the time Al Gore invented the internet, I guess.

I went on this suicide/depression message board site. It was before message boards looked neat and clean as they do now, and before there were a billion of them. It was called the ER. That is where I met a guy named Kevin. What followed from that was an twelve-year-long strange situation, a bit of an obsession, and what I thought was true love because it was the only thing I had ever experienced that felt like that. This whole thing went on and on, mostly a sad, epic tale of woe, consisting of me making a fool of myself by being codependent on a person who I never even met in person. This ended some six months ago when Kevin stopped talking to me, for one final time, apparently. And still I am left sitting here with the stray threads of some sort of relationship tangled in my hands wondering why I managed to mess it all up so badly and to never make it real.

I am very lonely. I have written this before, and the fact that I am being redundant is not lost on me. I have written about Kevin here many times and then deleted the post. Because I was ashamed. I don't really need to be ashamed, but I was, am. Because I feel pathetic.

I always had in my head, like most people, a number of goals I wanted to achieve. I wanted a close, romantic relationship, a college degree, a decent job, my health, a roof over my head. I have found that securing some of these things has taken a lot of time and energy and not always been successful, and yet, I mourn those life markers I never earned, the wedding I never had, the degree I never achieved, the house I never managed to buy. I barely keep my apartment paid for, and I don't have the health needed to work a full time job. I will probably never get married or even have a good relationship, because I am now overweight and unattractive. Yet, I feel so helpless, as if trying to lose weight or to go back to school were just utterly impossible things I will never, ever manage to do. And then sometimes, I think it doesn't really matter anyway, and I curl up into a ball and cry and wish I was dead.

I started wishing I was dead the first time when I was 12 years old. The fact I still do this at age 34 is not encouraging. I try not to do it. I try not to let my mind recede into dark corners which it cannot escape. I try to think, "Yes, there will be good things in the future. The future is promising. I can, and will, accomplish my goals." But it's hard to believe it. I've struggled so long with so many health problems, I don't even know how to explain to you how far removed I am from the self I once was. But she isn't here much anymore. Well, she is here, but she is somewhat damaged, I guess.

I loved Kevin the entire time I knew him. I know how dumb that sounds. It sounded dumb to him too. I know how crazy it sounds. I've been called crazy before, as you might imagine. I don't care how dumb or crazy it sounds though, deep down, because I know what was real to me, what matters to me, and this was a person who - unfortunate as it might be - mattered to me a whole hell of a lot for a very long time, over a decade of my life. I don't think I would be presenting an accurate picture of myself if I did not tell you this. This is a large part of who I am. I believe in love, and that peace can be achieved. I don't kill bugs usually. I like daisies better than roses. I enjoy a good poem. I guess I'm a bit of a sap. After all, if you've seen one movie with some element of romantic comedy in it, you've seen a romance that should not have succeeded ending happily with wonder. And that is all it took for me to think, for twelve years, that some day I'd be in a real relationship - off the internet - with a guy who never even wanted to meet me. Yes, I do know how pathetic that is.

I have always been a person who dreams well but doesn't accomplish the feats of her dreams very well. I am insecure, unsure of myself, and have issues that you know all about if you've read this blog, which preclude easy accomplishments. I would tell you I believe I am going to finish my college degree, but right now I can't say I believe that, really. I cannot read a book these days, nor even a chapter of a book, and that makes college just an outlandish idea. I try to manage my symptoms and the stress in my life by focusing on what is necessary. College, technically, isn't necessary, so it comes after the job that is necessary to pay the rent. I cannot, at this moment in time, manage the job and the college. I wish I could, but my brain has limits, and I pay dire consequences when I do not respect those limits.

So I am disappointed and depressed sometimes these days, because I want more than this out of my life. I want my Master's degree, I want my true love, I want to be my skinny self again. But wanting does not equal achieving. I need to find more strength within myself to push through these barriers.

1 comment:

  1. Jen, I know you're hurting right now, but you still shine brightly for me. You are not pathetic for having loved someone and you are not pathetic for missing him too. The rule of life is that things change and not necessarily for the worst. In most cases, for the better. When you are ready, you will find someone to love. Don't give up on hope Jen!


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