So. The last few months of last year were “good” I guess (in my parameters). I did a shit ton of things for my recovery last year, so I’m proud about that.
Right now I’m more stable than I’ve ever been. I’m taking care of my health, I’m taking the adhd meds and I’m paying attention to my symptoms and needs. It’s pretty cool, I’ve learned a lot about how my body+brain work.
The next goal is to be able to work semi regularly. It’s a struggle, but I might be slowly approaching it. Also my economical situation has never been worse, but I have hope in myself? Maybe? At least that’s what I tell myself.
My abusers still hate me for no reason, refuse to aknowledge my health problems (never mind the fact that I’m disabled) and work really hard to ruin my life.
It’s like I’ve never had more tools and support, but also things are harder than ever. There’s a ticking clock over my head, cause I have a deadline from my abuser. I have to make money and move out soon. Again, refusing to aknoledge in any way that I’m spending a fortune in my treatment and that just doing everyday things like eating and sleeping are fucking hard for me.
Can’t wait till they’re fucking dead! I hope they suffer too.
And it’s twisted because not only I was and am abused and traumatized, but I also happen to have a neurological disability that makes ESCAPING this hell even harder.
Ha ha. Life’s irony.
When I feel hopeless I think about other people who have recovered and escaped their abusers. I hope that’s me one day. I’ve been kinda suicidal too, but what’s new.
Like always, things are better than ever but there’s still so much to go.
God, my life would be so much easier if they were dead.
So. Haven’t been here in a while. I guess it’s been a “positive” time, some good things happened.
- I’ve connected to local groups of activist, which is good cause I could ask them for help if hit rock bottom or I’m kicked out. It’s also nice to see other people concerned about the same things I am.
- I told my friends (very briefly) about my mental health state and my past with abuse. They didn’t say much, as usual, that’s why I’m not really talking to them anymore, but at least some people irl know the truth.
- I briefly “notified” my abusers about my mental illness. Took hard work for them to acknowledge it. Not much happened though, as time went by they started acting again like I’m completely normal. They don’t give a shit.
- I started therapy. It was okay, much better than my previous therapists (although they were terrible to me, so that’s not hard to top). It was good to tell at least part of my story to someone, and she did validate it, but we didn’t really got into it. It was pretty pointless. I stopped going.
- I got my diagnosis for my ADHD, and started meds. Fucking. Miracle. I’ve been mentally ill for ten years, and I can finally take some medication for it. It’s been working pretty good.
- Since my diagnosis I’ve been working really hard in paying attention to my symptoms and applying strategies to make me semi-functioning. It’s been going well, but it’s a lot of work. Of couse my ADHD is just part of the problem, so it’s just gonna alleviate some of my problems. I’m trying to find a CBT therapist that knows about ADHD but it’s stressful and exhausting. Professionals can be so terrible, I hate starting a new treatment.
- And that’s it, I think. Those are the good things.
The bad shit:
- My abusers still hate me for no fucking reason and live in a made-up reality where I’m a monster and I use them. Because of reasons.
- I’m still making practically no money.
- Managing my health takes so much time and I honestly don’t know when I’ll be able to make enough money to move out.
It’s a fucking trap. All I can do is put a lot of effort in my recovery and treatment, that way I have proof that I’m mentally ill and I’m not just staying here cause I like ruining their existence, as they like to believe. Of course they’ll still not give a shit, but at least if they kick me out it’s gonna be clear that it’s because they hate me.
Throughout my life I’ve managed to:
- survive my childhood
- decided I wasn’t going to die, at the age of 19
- decided I was going to start the career that I’ve always dreamed of (even though all my abusers were against it)
- staring recovering on my own, analyzing my thoughts and doing cognitive therapy exercises (before I even know that existed)
- learn a shit ton about mental health
- quitting my job and deciding to start my own online business
- realized I had ADHD
- realized that I had (and was, and am) being abused my whole life
- surviving adult years
This year I’ve managed to:
- tell my friends a little bit about my story and my present (first time talking to people who know me irl about it)
- write and share my story online (so I can have proof that it’s real, and I don’t die with the secret)
- make friends online (on Discord servers), connecting to other abuse survivors
- get the ADHD diagnosis
- starting therapy (which is far from great, but it’s better than nothing)
- kinda talk to my abusers about my mental health (obviously wasn’t a positive experience, but at least they can’t they they “aren’t aware of it”)
- start a local mental health online group (which happens to be pretty unique and special group)
- be part of a feminism online network (which helps me feel less alone, and I know I can go there for help if I think I’ll be kicked out form my abuser’s house)
I still need:
- meds for the ADHD, and with that being able to have a routine
- someone irl who I can tell my whole story, so I feel heard and I don’t have to be the only one carrying this big secret
- a good therapist (someone who is emphatic, so I can talk about my abuse and feel heard and understood)
- to feel better (with meds help), working, saving money, and moving out.
I’m in the process of getting (at least part of) the treatment that I need, so I’ve been talking to my abusers about my mental health.
It’s hell because they’re full of shit and gaslighting. They’re like “yeah, I support you”, when in reality they
- deny the things I struggle with,
- think I have no real problems,
- think I’m too sensitive,
- showed little to no empathy after me literally saying “I’ve been struggling for a really long time, I can barely do stuff, and the professionals I’ve seen think I should get treated”, (no best wishes, offering me support or help, thanking me for sharing it with them, etc.)
- ignored / were completely unaware of my mental illness ever since I was a kid,
- blame me for “not saying anything”, even though I did but they shot me down time every single time,
- think (and tell me) that getting professional help is pointless, and that the only thing that will really help me is their religion,
- make remarks about how “sad” they are that I treat them “coldly” ever “since I was a kid” which is a blatant lie,
- blame me for our lack of relationship, while also making me pity them cause they’re “alone and have no relationships”,
- and obviously completely ignore and deny the fact that they have always treated me like trash.
I’m probably forgetting things.
But they support me getting treatment! Whatever’s best for me!
Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit.
It’s been hard, but I’m getting there. I’m trying to get the therapy and medication I need, I’m talking to people, I’m advocating for mental health.
It’s hard, but I’m getting there.
if i could say anything to someone, i would say:
i think i was raped
ive been mentally ill my whole life
i think i have add. i hope so, that way i could explain why my brain doesnt work.
it’s hard getting treatment here, for anything.
i know my family abused me, but my brain denies it every once in a while.
i’m 23, and my life so far has been pretty horrible.
i just want to be happy, for once.
i want to have people around me who believe me, and love me, and care about me.
my head is hell. and living is super hard.
for some people, living is really fucking hard.