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Wondrous Beauty
Living From Within
I'm So Helpless... 
29th-Apr-2006 07:14 pm
Water angel
My mom won't stop. She keeps telling me things that makes me feel like a horrible person. She thinks that I'm making everything up about my mental disorder. She can't accept the fact that I may be a nice person trying to save myself the best way I know how. It doesn't help to know that my mother is trying to tear me down. She is so negative and doesn't care about me. She says that she cares, but really she could care less. There is this one person who I want to try to talk to, someone that I might learn to trust, and my mom doesn't want me to. I have serious trust issues which only allows me to be alone. Why can't I try to trust someone? Even if it's a mistake. I just want to talk to that one person. He said that I could and I want to try. It's better than being alone in my room constantly cutting myself and coming up with a suicide plan. I really need to let that out along with some tears.
Comments 
30th-Apr-2006 01:29 pm (UTC)
i know it sounds great that you are aware that you find it hard to trust people. that way if you make a mistake you will know not to think that everyone is untrustworthy. i have trouble with that too.

do you tell your dr everything., i definitely find it helps, but i am lucky because my doctor strangely understands everything.

it is good that you have so much insight on your mother.

hugs
1st-May-2006 03:52 pm (UTC)
My therapist kinda sucks. I told her about some of the delusions that I was having and she said that I'm fine since I don't hallucinate...she sucks for that.
(Deleted comment)
1st-May-2006 03:52 pm (UTC)
Awww thanks! You're nice, too!
12th-May-2006 04:39 pm (UTC) - Trying to relate
I used to have a lot of problems with my mom, a lot of hurt. And I would never talk about them, because every time I did, she turned it around on me. Even if she didn't directly point fingers, the things she would say would make me feel like it was my fault, OR (perhaps the worse of the two) she made me feel like I was being stupid and petty and didn't have the *right* to feel the way I did.

So I just stopped confronting those problems with her. I avoided bieng home as much as I could, I stayed at school (Purdue), and when I was home I stayed in my room. My poor little brother hardly saw me, because of how much I hated being at home. He missed me so much. It kind of sucks when there are side affects like that.
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