I’ve figured it out. I’m good at problem solving and I used to be really, really good at coping. What changed?


That’s what it was – sodding emotions! When I lived with my parents I didn’t really have emotions. Well, I must have, but I managed to deaden them. I must not cry. I must be strong. And I succeeded. I did it! Sometimes I’d cut myself but not as much as I do now. Somehow I did it: I functioned and it worked. So I know it can be done. I know that I can do it.

And that’s the answer: kill myself emotionally. We’ve been through the whole can’t actually kill myself because of the children thing again and again and again. There had to be an answer and, of course, there is! It’s not appealing but sometimes that’s just the way it goes. 

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and finally began to accept that I have this…thing, this personality disorder. I also managed a bit of self-compassion – I have tried. I have really, really tried but it’s not working this. It really isn’t. I can’t bear the thought that this will be the rest of my life. So this is the answer.

I’m not sure how to consciously go emotionally dead. I mean it happens now in dissociation but that’s not controlled. Probably keeping busy and not thinking about anything that inspires emotion. I can do it. I can look happy, I mean I’m too bloody good at that aren’t I so that bit I’ve got down. 

I felt very sad looking in the mirror. Goodbye.

“I’m not like them but I can pretend” Nirvana, Dumb.

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