Advocacy

I had a bit of an awful day. I think I did well pacing myself, but work ended up being a bit hectic. Some last-minute changes and impromptu calls made for a busier day. Which is fine. I relish a busy day, as the day passes quickly, and I feel like I'm being of value. I did have a stark reminder though of how weak I am at defending myself. Recently, I disagreed with a colleague. And I... could not defend myself in the slightest. I started crying like a fool and trying to bury the whole thing when the colleague reached out. I've internalized that when I need something or feel hurt, my weirdness automatically makes me ineligible to receive even an apology. I do this all the time. I can't defend myself with health providers, government workers, colleagues, family, friends. Because the spike in anxiety makes me cry, I want to run and hide in a corner and forget that I was even offended. I will always tell the other party, that "no worries! it's fine! I totally get where you're coming from!"

I hate this so much... these are the times when I feel so hopeless. As if my life has been a series of messed-up patterns that I can't escape. I think to myself, that if even my father was able to abandon me, then any other slight is somehow allowed. He never saw it fit to apologize, yet he thought it was ok to meet me once to demand that I convince my mother to not sue him for unpaid child support. If the person who brought me onto this planet holds me in such low esteem? What's the point? Why even try so hard? To live to thrive? Half the time I feel so worthless and weak, a few incidents away from a depressive spiral, always questioning the point of living. I thought I was doing better, but it's just been hard to have faith in it being anything more than small pockets of relief. Like in my heart, I feel that this is it. I've learned what I've learned and I won't get better. My brain wants to rebel and say that I can grow... but some days I just don't want to consider my brain. My heart aches so much that my brain doesn't matter.

Perhaps this is why in my heart of hearts, my dream is to wander quietly in a maze. To speak to no one. To hear nothing. To somehow, in a haven, find the space to not hate myself or my life or my brain. To just breathe. To ever so slowly, heal. But it's a silly dream... an impossible dream.