Another Emotional Flashback

On Friday (yesterday) it happened. First thing in the morning and it ruined my entire day. And here it is almost 3pm on Saturday and I’m still feeling like shit. In fact, in some ways I feel angrier than I did yesterday.

It was brought on by another episode of B not hearing me, not caring enough to listen to what I told him. I won’t go into the details of the incident but I lost it.

I was shouting about how I’m convinced on some level (no matter what he says) that he enjoys my reactions. That I feel sabotaged each time I get a toe hold. That I feel like he likes me right where I am (which is loserville) just like my family because he’s miserable and wants the company. And no matter how much he SAYS he cares, his actions say a whole lot different.  There was more but I think this gets the point across.

I did this shouting at approximately 6:30 am. So I’m sure the landlady loved that. I’m embarrassed but I’m not ashamed like I usually am. I’m tired of him. Granted I get the basic survival support from him. My housing is taken care of. I have food stamps…aka SNAP, so my food is provided.

But the emotional support is practically non-existent. He is an apath and as I mentioned he’s done some things that have sabotaged my recovery. It may not be intentional but it doesn’t matter. It has the same effect.

Each time something comes up, I talk to him, discuss it. He seems to listen to my feelings and what I think. But it doesn’t change anything. And the same sort of thing will take place later.

I have very little energy after the over the top responses to emotional flashbacks. And that’s where the sabotage lies. I can’t think straight enough to take more steps forward to get my own life (back)…if I even ever had a life of my own.

All I feel is anger and exhaustion. I can’t seem to get any momentum forward because as I said each step forward is met with some sort of sabotage and afterward I feel like I’m back to square one.

I become resentful as hell and very angry. It makes it difficult to talk to him, even the most small necessary pieces of info like, “There is chicken on the counter, leave it the fuck alone.”

Lol…I don’t say that, but I want to because I’m so disgusted with this shit happening over and over and over and I can’t fucking leave. And I think that either secretly or subconsciously that is exactly how he wants it.

I mean ffs, I can’t work like this. If I get a job and have an emotional flashback and flip out like I did on B yesterday morning, not only will I feel embarrassed and ashamed, I’ll be right out on my ass.

So before I go working for someone else, I have some physical issues to take care of. And that requires some testing. Well how the fuck do I get testing without money???

Trust me, this is testing that won’t be covered by insurance. Adrenal fatigue is not recognized by the fucked up medical industry. And insurance companies don’t cover things that work.

So there it is. Trapped once again! Well actually STILL trapped.

Oh and as I write we are getting new neighbors in one of the apartments in the building next door. And since I attract assholes and douchebags, how much you wanna bet they will loud and obnoxious. Making my health even worse.

 

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I Need to Be Fixed

We’re fighting fleas again and still.

I’m feeling trapped as I’ve felt most of my life.

The fleas and smell of the landlady’s heavy cigarette smoking habit

are triggers for the way I’m feeling

Triggers, they make it next to impossible to get a foothold.

But I’ve always felt trapped.

Trapped in my life

Trapped with my family

Now trapped in this hole of an apartment.

Even trapped with Mr. B.

Trapped in my body

Trapped in my mind

Today I did it again.

I felt unheard and was already overwhelmed

The fleas and mix-up in communication

A common occurrence between Mr. B and me.

I feel unheard and

I wound up in yet another tantrum/meltdown.

Not as bad as the one before, but still

It happened.

I’m angry. I feel helpless and hopeless.

I slammed a bunch of stuff

Resulting in more yelling, scaring the cat just with the volume.

Threw a spray bottle and it spilled all over the carpet

and I did not give any fucks.

I picked up the bottle and left the puddle in the rug.

Found the spray bottle nozzle broken.

The closeness of the two events does not escape me.

I want to stop but I truly feel I can’t control it.

I become Hyde with no warning.

I don’t want to live like this anymore.

I need help…REAL help

Not the bullshit therapists who claim to know but don’t

But it’s not FOR me.

I’m too poor

I’m not in the right place.

I’m not lucky enough

I would give up every single material belonging

to be rid of this.

I research and find others getting well,

Others are healing

With cutting edge shit

But do I have access

Nope.

I don’t begrudge anyone for having this happen for them. But I do begrudge that it isn’t readily and easily available to others who NEED it years ago!

The next and only clinical study I’ve found that will happen next is in England.

The two previously happened right here in the U.S… but as usual I am a few years late and many dollars short.

Story of my miserable fuckin’ life.

And if it gets approved after this next study, legalization will take effect by 2021!!!!

I don’t know about you, but I’d like to find myself out of hell before that.

Oh and let’s not forget that even when it’s legal you’ll need access to a therapist who not only uses it but knows HOW to.

Sorry but I just don’t have that much faith in the world of therapy at large.

It’s up to me and leaving the planet is looking better and better every day.

I won’t be doing anything though. No plan. I will stay alive, even though I feel dead inside.

But I’m not going to be here on wordpress for at least the rest of the day.

I need a solution. I’m not sure blogging is it…I’m not sure of anything except the fact shit needs to change.