The hidden journaling behind my pic reads:It's true. If you can believe anything that comes out of my mouth…I'm a liar. I lie all of the time to make people think that I am someone I'm not. I lie about how happy I am, how much I hang out with my friends, even if I'm eating or not. The truth is that I'm not happy, I'm depressed and suffering from my PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder—from being sexually, physically, and verbally abused as a child) symptoms. I do not hang out with my friends that much, I'm a loner. I do not eat a lot because I feel so crappy I do not go grocery shopping, and then I have no food in the house. My life is not perfect even though it looks that way to people I love online and in “real life”—the girl who is a graduate student at DUKE, buys whatever scrappy supplies she wants, looks beautiful, has a loving family (mostly), and lives however she wants.
Well, it is not that easy…Yes, I do go to Duke University, a very prestigious school, but I have to work my butt off to keep a 3.5 (B+) average when I used to get all A's. I do buy whatever scrapbooking supplies that I want, but I pay for it other ways…Like not having money to go out with friends. Or not having money for food. I am beautiful—it has taken me a long time to accept what everyone tells me is true, but my beauty hides a troubled soul. I am depressed beyond belief for the last year—I have never had a depressive episode last this long. I had to take a medical leave from school because my depression and PTSD were destroying my life. I had to withdraw from a class last spring and had to take an incomplete in another class because I could not finish the work I was so depressed. For a supposedly happy go lucky girl, I am quite a downer.
I know I am not the only person who has ever suffered from depression and I do not want it to seem like I'm crying oh, poor me, I'm depressed, I was abused, I have PTSD. I am still strong. I am an abuse survivor. I am working hard, with my therapist Ana Carla, to get through this depression and be able to experience things normally again. I am taking my medication as prescribed by my psychiatrist, something a lot of people with mental illness refuse to do. So I am trying to get better, it is just taking a long time. I know I have low self-esteem and my critic attacks me because I let her. I am controlled by my negative feelings about myself. I think I can not do it so I do not do it. Especially with writing papers, which is what I am supposed to be doing now, I am berated by my critic for being bad at writing papers, even though all of the evidence points to the fact that I am a good paper writer. Yeah, I can write papers well. I just need to get into the right frame of mind. Fuck off, Kate!
My past was not perfect either. I was sexually abused by an older step-brother from the ages of 5 to 12 years old. I was physically and verbally abused by his mother, my first step-mother from the time I was 5 until I was 12. I was emotionally and verbally abused by a narcissistic biological father all my life until I stopped talking to him. I still have nightmares about all these types of abuse. I still have flashbacks of my sexual and physical abuse where I cannot tell if I am 23 or 6 years old. I have the lowest self esteem because of all the abuse I have endured, made me feel as if I was not worthy to be loved or even to be alive...That's why I tried to kill myself when I was 17 years old. I used to always deny that my overdose was trying to kill myself, but my psychiatrist made me understand that I had taken enough pills to kill myself. I had taken enough pills to cause a deadly heart arrhythmia. I had never thought about it like that. Even though I did not die, I very well could have. And that is a suicide attempt, no matter what my intentions are.
I also cut myself for most of my teenage and college life. I would get such overwhelming anxiety or flashbacks that I needed to cut just to know what was real and what was in my mind. As soon as I cut I got that feeling of relief that is sooo addicting. It was better than any drug I could have taken. That's why it was so bad for me, because the more I cut the more I got addicted and wanted to continue. It was not until I was into college that I stopped cutting myself reguarly. I used to cut almost everyday. When it was at my peak, my freshman year of college, I did cut every day. I needed to--I thought there is no way to get through life without cutting. I also broke my arm twice and had to have a cast for 4 weeks and 6 weeks. I know that sounds extreme, but it was how I coped with all of my negative feelings at the time. I now have healthier coping mechanisms, but that does not mean that I do not want to go back to cutting. It is much easier than experiencing the feeling. I still get the urge to cut, and usually I can resist it, but sometimes it is overpowering and I break down and cut myself. That happenened twice in the last year. The first time because of school and the second because of abuse/trauma stuff my therapist and I were delving into. But I do know that it is not a good way to cope and that there are better ways.
I wonder what the future holds for somebody who is so messed up? Will I ever be able to be 'normal'? Will I ever find a girlfriend and settle down? Will I ever have any more children? (Right now I have a furbaby, who is my son.) Will I ever be able to get a job and keep it for a period of time? I don't want people to know that I worry about these things, so when my Granny asks me how I am doing in school or life it is always "Great!" She thinks going to Duke and getting my degrees will help me get a job, but the truth is, in my field there just are not the number of jobs there used to be! I will have to talk about this with Ana Carla tomorrow...
The rest is too personal for me to post right now.