Life Goes On

Or so I’ve heard.

The fluctuations of emotions are pretty irregular right now. Where I used to react positively to interaction with people on Zoom and text, it is now causing a retreat. I am trying to pull myself together, mainly because I am all I have.

Other thoughts:

You know, I’m really angry about people suddenly realizing that there are people who are always cut off like this. And they actually have the gall to claim they now understand us. And I’m incredibly angry with my school for creating the opportunity to withdraw from classes even if it is only the stress that is too much for people. Really? Where was this kind and compassionate attitude when I was having my breakdown? You know? The time when y’all told me, “Oh, well, guess you’ll just flunk your classes since you can’t jump through all these hoops.”

I’m tired of feeling trapped. Being surrounded at work by young people used to make me feel a bit better, but the longer this goes on, the more I realize that young people are ridiculously immature. Case in point, we had a training yesterday for work (yes, that work, the one that is laying us all off in two weeks). And we were asked to share what we had lost and what had upset us about being locked in our houses. The people I was grouped with were upset because their concerts they had tickets to were cancelled and they couldn’t get to the gym. Oh, my god. The world is going to hell and that is the best they could come up with?

But I’ve never fit in with anyone. When I was their age I was in Amnesty International and trying to raise awareness about the situation in Sudan. (That was more than a decade before George Clooney would come on the scene–I’m old, remember.) And in high school, I supported Princess Diana’s charity work and tried to raise awareness about unexploded landmines. My friends hated that I would talk about such “depressing” things. They still do.

I do not belong anywhere. That is something you learn growing up in an abusive family. The secrets you are required to keep make it impossible to form connections with anyone. And that is only enforced when you are in an abusive marriage.

It has only been a few years since I was able to get out and make my own friends and discuss publicly what had happened to me. It was only a few years ago I could begin to plan an actual escape from the situation. And now that is all gone. I have no real chance of escaping now. The cost of finishing my education will be too much. And without a job, which is going to be impossible to find when I graduate, I cannot do anything. We will not get out of here. I will not be able to move my daughter some place she can be safe. We will remain trapped.

I worry a lot because no one is really acknowledging the fact that what we are living through increases the rate of PTSD, depression, anxiety, spousal abuse, child abuse, addiction, etc. It’s like people are just saying, “Hey, let’s just stay positive and it will all be fine.” The American mindset of individualism is going to kill a lot of people just from suicide and homicide, not to mention the idiots who are refusing to self-isolate to help protect others. (I’m screaming at you Florida, South Dakota, etc.)

Today, only depression is going on. Today I want to light a match to everything and burn it to the ground. Today is grim.

I think I can safely say, however, that I have lived through worse. Having the sh*t beat out of you every day by your parents when you are a tiny child is definitely worse than this. And here I am. I’m totally f*cked up by it. I will never be normal and never fit into society. I cannot, because I refuse to be silent about suffering. I’m a b*tch that way.

Those are the sorts of thoughts that keep me alive. Those, and the fact that both my mother and my ex have asked me to commit suicide and that just makes me live to spite their sorry asses.

2 thoughts on “Life Goes On

    1. I think it’s the way a lot of people are now. As I talk with friends who have often thought that I overreact to situations (I have PTSD) I see they are now doing the same thing.


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