Today, January 31, 2017, I had to relive my trauma again by EMDR.
And, that’s okay, really.
What isn’t okay, is how emotional I got watching a movie after EMDR. I watched a movie about a girl who was being bullied, and tried to kill herself because of it.
And I just really felt how she felt. I knew what she was going through. Not the bullying, but the suicidal thoughts. Yeah, I got bullied like half a year when I was a freshman because I was a little fluffy (fatty), but I didn’t get any emotional damage at the time from it like she had.
Maybe I do, actually. Maybe the bullying is the reason I don’t want to eat anymore. And if I eat, I choose the foods which contain the less calories. It’s so bad, I know. I’m already underweight. But I still think I’m fat. It’s just in my head, I know that. Everybody around me sees me getting thinner. But it just isn’t thin enough. I can see the fat all over my body. It’s like a battle everyday in my mind: I have rational thoughts but also emotional thoughts about it. The rational thoughts say I should eat properly so I can get to my strenghts (also for EMDR, because it’s exhausting), but the emotional thoughts say I’m not beautiful this way. And I feel so sad. Tears are streaming down my face, as we speak. I want to feel loved and beautiful again. I want to love myself again. And it’s a constant battle. Most of the times I feel like I can only love myself when I’m as thin as I can be. And at really rare times of the day (or maybe even week) I just get angry at myself. How can I do this to myself? But then, soon enough, there’s the mirror again telling me I should eat even less to become more beautiful. Because right now, I’m full of fat.
I’m not anorexic. I’m not that underweight. You can still see the fat on my body. I’m just having a hard time loving myself, with my depression and stuff.
But what I wanted to say, because I was really distracted in my own thoughts, is that I really felt the pain of the girl of the movie. I could really get her dilemma. She didn’t want to die; she just didn’t want to feel any more pain. She didn’t want to hurt her loved ones, but the pain made her do it.
As I watched the girl in the movie, I watched myself.
She just thought it would made all her problems go away; if she would go away.
I’ve had those thoughts so many times last couple months. They really are awful. You can’t do anything about it. You don’t want anyone around you; yet you want them to hold you. You don’t think you have the power to go on anymore. You want to live your life, not survive each and every day. Your thoughts are like a rollercoaster. One time you’re at the bottom and you don’t think you could get any lower (worse); and then maybe a couple hours, days, or weeks later, you can find something that can light up your day for a bit. And that’s where you have to feed from. That has to be your strength to go on. You will still have to survive, but sometimes you have to survive before you can live your life again. And that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m trying to survive. I’m trying to keep up with life, so one time maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week, maybe in a month, I can say I’m really living my life again as I used to know.
But right now, I’m not. Sometimes I still suffer from suicide. It’s so fucking awful, I can’t even explain. But I will try. I will try to describe what it’s like to be suicide (from my view).
I wake up. I get less than 5 hours of sleep at an average night. It’s because of all the nightmares. It’s characteristic for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. So I wake up, and I feel already tired. I’m always tired. It’s because of the depression too, I guess. I feel empty too. I’m getting out of bed, because I don’t want to have any questions from fellow students or anyone else. I want to save myself from having to answer those questions about what’s going on in my life. So I get up, make myself ready for school. Don’t even bother to bring me some lunch; I won’t have any appetite. I cry, because I will have to go to school and not feel safe at all. I feel lonely. But I’m still going. I’m scared as soon as I have to get out of the house; he might also be out there. But that’s just anxiety talking to me. I’m going. I’m scared in the train. But I’m going. I’m smiling at my fellow students as soon as I walk in the building. I don’t even notice what the classes are about; I’m just there. Physically, not mentally. I can’t even be a good student, because I don’t know the subjects of the class I’m in. How can I be a good caregiver? How can I do something for the world? I don’t belong here. I can’t even participate in school, so how can I participate in the world? How can I study for caregiver if I can’t even help myself? I feel useless. I’m just a no-good. A no-good for my friends, my parents, my fellow students, the world… I’m doing nothing good. It would be better if I wouldn’t bother anyone anymore.
Well, it goes on and on. Tears streaming down my face. It’s a constant battle; do I have the rights to be alive or should I just end it?
Yeah, I know. Everyone says all the same things. I should go on, the pain will end and so will the misery. But today, it’s just still there. So are the thoughts.
By watching the movie, I just felt understood. It felt nice to be finally understood. That’s what I wanted to share. I made the message a lot longer, sorry for that. Just needed to write all my thoughts down.