22 February 2011

Counseling Day 3, Tears Day 4

Depression level 10. Counseling session 3. Spent the time crying, which I did for 4 fucking hours yesterday. Trying Cognitive Behavior Therapy. Maybe it'll work sometime, but it's not working now. Nothing's working now.

I still feel rejected, thrown away with the garbage and worthless to him. When I hear "the feelings will never be there" it still finds its way into my brain as another attempt to tell me I'm not good enough to love.

It doesn't matter though. I'm only worthy of emotional and psychologically abusive men as mates. Oh, let's not forget lying pieces of shit. And with that I'll never find a man who will put me first, especially against the ex wife.

Being put behind children I can tolerate to a certain extent... the point in which the children do everything to keep me away because I'm not good enough for Daddy (Jim, Dave, ring a bell?) in their eyes. Needing a vehicle worked on is one thing, every fucking weekend needing repairs or to borrow the truck for moving stupid shit is over the line. That was Dave's grown children's favorite. Damn was it frequent.

Don't even get me started on grandkids. There is a reason time with Dave dropped to 2 hours every 2 or 3 weeks with no phone call between. I'd literally scour the obituaries of every paper I could access just to see if his name was in it because I hadn't heard from him in 2 weeks. I see that happening with "him," being pushed so far away I may as well not exist, even as friends; my heart should stop, my last gasping breath taken, leaving me to eternal peace, a peace which I yearn for.

One of Jim's daughters purposely made a sign. It was black with neon "Keep Out Freak" written on it. She admitted that I was a freak and I was not worthy of breathing her air. This fucking kid did everything she could do to make sure I knew I wasn't wanted, liked, loved or welcome.

As if I weren't having enough issues with Jim suddenly going from hugging, kissing, cuddling and slepovers to empty promises, lies, deceit and new women - Jennifer being one.

She was obviously right when she said I should have killed myself when I had the chance since Jim did nothing to defend me. He just drank more beer and betrayed me in the worst way - by not being a loyal friend, by not defending me.

The more shit that goes on between me and "him" the more parallels I see in my past hellships. I would never be first. At best I would be 6th, behind children and ex wives, until grandchildren appeared, then I'd be behind them as well. The ex would be (and is) always right and I would be (and am) always wrong. I'm not even sure the kid I've met doesn't think I'm a psychopath. Ok, I am a psychopath. I can see why she avoids me.

I guess fuck therapy, fuck meds, fuck breathing, fuck my beating heart. Kill the living and envy the dead.

Then again, anyone that knows me knows the easiest way to kill me is through my heart.


  1. I wish I could tell you this in the right way, Sarah, but you cannot base your self-worth on what other people think about you or even on how they treat you. I know you have a lot of friends who like you just the way you are because I see them commenting to you. Please don't be so hard on yourself because true love hasn't found you yet. I know there is a special person out there who is worthy of your love and who will love you without all the game playing. Don't waste your tears over people who have treated you badly, just move on and consider yourself lucky to have seen their true colors and realize that they are no big loss. They aren't worth your time to even spend thinking about. Life will get better for you; you are making progress, you will finish school and love will happen like it usually does, when you stop looking for it and are just enjoying being who you are. You are just going through a difficult phase, and getting your meds all straightened out is not helping, but it will get better. Take care of you.


  2. Remember your successes, your good points that require no one else to be good.

    YOU are a GREAT friend. You've got our back, when we need it. And WE'VE got YOURS.

    You have real artistic talent: poetry, woodburning, who knows what else will turn up, but you turn an eye for detail and a good sense of over-all form to it.

    You have intellectual strength. No half-literate papers from you, no sentence is so obtuse as to confuse you. You can keep the details of event orders in mind instead of confusing whether the silver issue sunk Bryant before touching off the Spanish-American war, or vice-versa.

    It is hard to remember what you are strong in when you are feeling weak and worthless, but you are not worthless.