I don’t post much anymore because I’m so burnt out from life that in those quiet moments between disasters and work I don’t even know what to do with myself.
A quick recap for the new posters who don’t know me:
- After 8 years (on New Year’s Day 2017), and me moving countries, my partner left me and I was broke, suicidally depressed and teetering on homelessness for about a year.
- September 2017, days after my birthday, my mom had a seizure which was the beginning of some kind of Early Onset Dementia (She was 60), which I became the emotional caretaker for taking multiple calls a day despite living on another continent and in another time zone.
- In January I went back to school again in a completely new town in Sweden to retrain for a career I could actually support myself on and to have some stable housing... and it’s not going well. I’m the oldest woman in my class, and I’m surrounded by the most immature 22-24 year-olds I have ever met. I got embroiled in stupid bullshit drama, had “friends” avoid me because I was too depressing, and just feel really isolated and lonely.
- Throughout this, I’ve been trying to get therapy... but I’ve been in limbo in the system through a combination of falling through the cracks; being too complicated for the regular system, yet not sick enough to be hospitalized; and some serious levels of medical malpractice. I haven’t seen a doctor to check on my meds since last year, and have been getting them filled through loopholes.
So, where am I now?
I feel like I’m being crushed under the grief and anger I’m not allowed to express. It’s a strange way to put it, “allowed”, but it really feels like that — if I don’t wear a mask, then people don’t like me. Anger really upset my ex, so I tried never to be angry during the relationship, and when I started being my own person, he left; I was too busy surviving after the break up to really get angry about how fucked up how he went about it was; I’m too busy getting the energy to get up every day to be angry at the unfairness of what is happening to my mom and how everyone stateside has dropped the fucking ball and expects me, the daughter, to give up my life and fix; I don’t have the inner strength to actually stand up for myself anymore because I am so threadbare that my PTSD is symptomatic again and conflict gives me dissociative episodes; I am so angry at all the people in this fucking school who don’t engage and say how “bad vibes” or a “bad team culture” makes them unmotivated and not do their fucking jobs, when for a good six months I went to work convincing myself not to jump in front of the commuter train every morning. I’m tired of being told I need to have empathy for them, or change how I engage with them.
I’m tired of trusting people and having them hurt me. I’m so tired of being lonely, but I don’t know how to even make friendships anymore. I just feel like an alien, like I’m so much older than my age and I don’t have the deep relationships people in their 40s and 50s have to fall back on. I don’t have any close family, my friends are scattered across the globe, I’m single and probably will be for the foreseeable future.
The only thing I’m good at is taking care of people, doing all the invisible in-between work that no one appreciates or notices but is what makes things possible. The epitome of women’s work. And I don’t know how to do it for myself. I realized, recently, that it’s not that I think I’m a bad person — but because I don’t think I have any value outside of what I give to others. Everyone leaves when I start trying to get my own needs met, so I’ve stopped trying. I can’t take care of them myself, because I have so many fucking obligations and I’m living on student loans.
I feel worthless and taken advantage of and I just want it to stop.
But stopping isn’t an option. So I keep going.