Life is hard. It’s hard. There’s no way around that.
Life with mental illness is hard. A different hard, not necessarily worse.
I’ve had a very strange couple of days. I’ve been desperately reaching out to people, obsessively sending messages in an attempt to get a response and to feel valued by those people that I care about. I’ve been a complete menace and as much as I would like to say differently, I will probably be the same in a couple of weeks because it’s me.
But I’ve changed tracks a little: these people aren’t responding because… why the hell would they want to?! Girl, you’re acting crazy and obsessive and MENTAL. Get a grip! People will be much happier talking to you if you were just a little less manic and in their face, just give them a break! You’re crazy!
I kind of had this ‘realisation’ (it isn’t really, I knew it all along but I’m going to actually listen to it now) earlier walking in to town. I don’t need to chase people via words, I don’t need responses, I can actually function without mentally messaging people demanding their… well, demanding their attention.
There it is. The crux of it. What I hate admitting because of personal reasons, but in this case it’s true. I’m wanting these people to pay attention to me so I feel valued.
That is so difficult to admit. It’s bringing up s many feelings, and I loathe myself for becoming an attention seeker but it’s the truth: I’ve been begging for their attention and I have to face up to that really.
I am not an attention seeker by nature; I’m the quiet, sits in a corner and minds her own business type of person. It takes a great deal of trust for me to talk to people about my problems, and I do not like drawing attention to them. I dislike being noticed. I think these people would find it very hard to believe, but I am not an attention seeker by nature. I actually hate people who draw attention to themselves… great.
So why? Why these people? What do they have over me that has caused me to become such an abhorrent person? I don’t know. One of them is like a brother, one of them is a pillar, one of them has helped so much… I just feel like I need them.
But I don’t.
I don’t need them. I don’t need their attention. I don’t need to become that person who exaggerates and becomes hated (bit late for that latter one I feel) for demanding peoples time.
I think I can reverse this. I hope I can reverse this. I hope they can forgive me. I can’t give a reason, I can’t give an excuse because there isn’t one. It’s just me, much as I hate saying that. I just hope that realising this enables me to stop and change because… does it really need saying?