Another day of struggling

[Cammy]

22 April. Safe as houses. I keep posting to the back of this thread half hoping to not be noticed. I need to vent, but I'm not one for pulling too much attention to myself. I keep hoping that as this thread gets longer and longer and more repetitive, it will just kind of be ignored. But I need this, especially when I'm feeling as lost and hopeless as I am right now. It's like this is all I know how to do for myself anymore, and it's not enough. The isolation. Words no longer can meet the requirements of what I need to express. I used to be a person. I had a job. I got things done. Then, little by little, destruction came and picked away until nothing was left. Can barely leave the house now. Can't seem to do anything because very little matters anymore. But when I finally take that one courageous moment to reach out, it proved to be too much for the recipient, and I am trashed once more. Scared today. So very scared. I'm just sitting here waiting for the meds to catch up to the terror. Always waiting for the moment to get better. It will, but while time has us trapped in these vile dark places, it is always a forever kind of wait. Courage is gone right now. Doesn't exist at this phase between extreme terror and meds kicking in. I keep thinking about how I cry at night before I sleep and how I do the same when I wake up, and things start to lose all their relevance for me. Like why bother perpetuating such a painful existence? Don't be concerned...I already said I'm safe, it's just that Im not okay. Sometimes not being okay really bothers me, like right now. I don't know what outsiders imagine DID is like, but for me I can sum it up as pain wrapped in pain wrapped in more pain. I hope that I can move forward away from being this horribly dysfunctional. Already two years in bed, and another year perched on the side of the bed...progress. I'm just not interested in a damn thing anymore...nothing. I've become a complete unperson like in an Orwellian nightmare. I know that I am the only one that can make this stop and make things move again, but I just sit here, and sit here, and sit here hoping that maybe in the illusive and unattainable tomorrow I will actually get up and try to do SOMETHING. Okay drugs...hurry up before I start trying to chew my leg out of this trap. I need human comfort. I need someone to care. I need a little understanding. I need a doctor who gives enough of a sh*t to even bother looking up DID in the dictionary. Once we start losing those people who understand us, we lose our equilibrium and our desire to fight on. We lose what tiny human connection we had and we lose hope. I'm tired of this, so maybe I need to change it. I just need to get up...up Crap, this just gets harder and harder. No replies required. None of this will be pertinent an hour from now. What can I say? It's just another day in the life of those of us who are sitting in the window seat on the bus to Hell. Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine, whine.