ASH #9: A bet with God

God, a deity, who is supposed to be bigger, badder and better than me, or you. I suppose because I’ve never seen him. Although I have a tome of 73 books that I read at breakfast & dinner that tells me so. Yet (most) of these authors don’t see Him either. I’m hopelessly falling into the David vs. Goliath cliche with this, but I’ve got enough vinegar to not care. Oh, you don’t care for vinegar….some vodka then? Dern not vodka, fine yo-yo, I’ll give you single malt scotch whiskey. So yeah, this quiet social worker with her scotch takes on God. Lemme back up for a minute, I wasn’t always a social worker or a scotch imbiber, those come with time. But a bet with God, the one and only Deity in my life, shot that’s just tomfoolery. Yet, I made it. I was fresh out of life (like that feeling you have when you’re out of tp and you gotta go?). How in tarnation I was standing, breathing or moving…must’ve been God’s Will ‘cuz it sure as heck not mine. Nosiree in 2005, living took too much effort. My mind & craw were jammed full of other thoughts like pills, death, funerals and what color roses would cover a fresh mound of dirt. God would have it that I practically wander into the funeral Mass for someone I once knew, and make a bet – more like a threat:

I’m giving you one last chance. It better be good, because I can’t live like this. If it’s not good, I’m gone. I’ll leave you for good.

Er, what? Some chick blackmailed God. If He wanted/wants me, He’ll have to come and get me. Otherwise I’d crossover to the not-so Catholic side of things. It’s hard to tell who’s winning, but I’ll let Him claim it.

02/25/2011

This shouldn’t be new information to you at this point: I’m tired.

Dragged myself out of bad this morning, running late.  Getting into work, I sat at my desk literally sat still for 5 minutes trying to think of what to do.  It’s not for a lack of work, but for too much.  I’m behind in my IPCs, haven’t ran a single group session, behind on my quarterly notes.

The other social worker is saying things like “Let’s go eat” and my visceral reaction is “no thanks” because I’ve gone from “being too stressed to eat” to having no appetite whatsoever.  For example, I was watching television this afternoon with a girlfriend and a KFC commercial aired.  I wanted to buy a bucket, for a split second, to see if the pieces actually looked like the image, but not out of interest in the scent, flavor, or sustenance.  I take extra hot showers just to chase away the cold.

For the past two weeks my back pain went away.  It’s returned.  I can’t sit, stand, or lay in any comfortable position, and the same goes for my neck and shoulders.  The pain is stress related, I carry all my stress psychosomatically.

And if anyone’s reading this and flipping out, the conversation I had with my girlfriend this afternoon is telling.  I said that I think I might be headed straight into depression.  I’m not surprised by it.  For all the damaging things I do to myself (I consider not eating self injurious behavior), I’ll never kill myself.   For those who say “never say never” let me make something clear.  If this is indeed a depressive episode, it will be my sixth.  I’ve had darker, more dangerous episodes than anything I could be experiencing now.  I didn’t attempt anything then, and won’t be doing so now.  If I act out, well, what can I say? I have done so in the past and may well do so in the future.

I’ve got therapy tomorrow at 10am.  Afterwards I’ll be going shopping with the girls, and dinner, and possibly a bar. Right now, I’m going to try to get more than 5 hours of sleep, like I did last night.

little miss sunshine

my thoughts don’t feel safe to share. the less i dwell, the less ‘i feed the animals’ the less it claws and tears at me
          gloom ‘n’ doom. self pity is hell. no wonder i dont explore it very often. reality
i’ll keep myself as safe as possible. i’ll try to drive the speed limit. i’ll try to eat. i’ll try not to cut

If you want/need a promise, I’ll give you what we did in school social work:


The 3+ people I promise to call: Eman, Lisa, and anyone else who’ll listen & my most recent former therapist
I promise not to kill myself.  I will try my best not to hurt myself (i.e., cutting) but don’t feel safe/able to ensure my word at this time.  If I start thinking of hurting myself in a grayish area between self-injury & suicide I will hand over my booze, migraine medication, PMS meds, excedrin OTCs and Alieve over to a trusted friend for at least one week; along with all my sharp objects (nail cutters, scissors, sewing pins & needles, metal emery board, hand mirrors, and anything else I find a temptation).  I will avail myself to counseling services on campus; may even return to my most recent ex-therapist in Huntington.  If I feel like I’m going to break my promise, I’ll find the cop who stands 24/7 sentry at the Hawthorne cliffs and submit to a 5150 (that’s what he’s there for; that’s why people go to the Hawthorne cliffs).

Re-post from March 3, 2010

For me, it’s better to feel physical pain than the emotional pain.  I can only handle so much emotional pain in my life, and it triggers memories, which only add to the pain.  So, while others self harm to release pain, I do it to feel a type of pain that has an observable, curable cause.  Emotional pain will always be there, always there under the surface waiting for some one, thing, event to dredge it all up again.  But physical pain, it gets healed and goes away; it is forgotten.
And for the people out there who think self injury is a suicidal gesture, that’s not true; you need to go read more psychological literature.  Besides, if I really wanted to kill myself, I’ve already had 5 depressive episodes in the past 12 years.  I’ve had my chance, I never took it.

my reasons:
I feel selfish
I always take and never give
I have nothing to offer, especially God
If I have anything to give, it’s something that God has already given to me.  I can’t claim anything as truly my own.
I never add up
She will never love me
She will never see me as a separate entity, worthy of dreams and desires and wants, etc apart from herself
I never fulfill half the obligations I say I’ll do for other people; including prayer
I’m a hypocrite
I constantly fail
I’m tired of failing
I’m tired of not adding up
I’m a bitch
I’m all sorts of messed up
I don’t want to meet back up with my therapist
I don’t want to have to be honest with my therapist; the last one stabbed me in the back
I’m tired of meeting expectations that are not my own
I’m tired of being unemployed
I’m tired of hiding
I’m tired of her never having remorse
Since I constantly fail, why don’t you just give me Hell since I already live it
I have so much crap going on in my life I can’t hear God
I hate hearing about my ‘worth’; it’s painful
I’m tired of having migraines and tension headaches
I’m tired of missing events to make sure she maintains boundaries
I’m tired of hiding books, prayer cards, and prayer journals as though they are contraband
Why do I have to take care of her?
Why do I have to walk on egg shells to make her happy, but she can stomp all over me?
Why am I invisible?
I’m tired of being constantly reminded of how I cause problems
I’m tired of being constantly talked to as though I’m a child when I’m her adult child
Why does she get to act like she is 5 years old?
I hate recieving praise and compliments because I don’t know what to do with them.
I’m supposed to be entering the convent, but God won’t even give me a f-ing job to enable me to fulfill His will.
I have to lie about where I go for church
I have to make excuses for dressing modestly (but prettily)
I can’t cry – my emotions take a back seat to hers
I can’t be angry at her; I’m supposed to be understanding due to my education and training as a counselor
I’m supposed to provide information but I cannot appear to be intelligent in the matter
I can’t upstage her (i.e., cooking, sewing, intellect, etc)
Tired of living under the unspoken rule of “I’ll love you when you do ____.”
If I try to be my own separate self, its self defeatist
I’m not “up to snuff”
Tired of having to second guess whether something is done simply to be nice or has a motive behind it for later use
[may add more later]

there – all out in the open. now, run for the hills