more fucked up shit

Another day, still a lot of anger and numbness. Like yesterday I was able to retreat into my mind for a bit. It helped me, made me feel nothing and everything at the same time, yet outward I would have looked like a mental patient staring at the walls, thank god no one was around. No one can see me like that.

The fibro fog is seriously impacting my ability to deal with this shit properly, my memory is fucked by it and i have to keep reminding myself to trust no one. Seeing the lock i fitted to my door helps. It acts as a reminder and also makes me feel safe.

Thought about running away, if i win the lottery I'll go ahead with it. Otherwise I'll just have to stick it out until the family fucks off in a few months. I wish I could win the lottery. I don't want anything of theirs.

I find myself not caring about anything, i avoid staying in my parent's view for long. I no longer see myself as her, Nadine, Nads... anything she was is gone. Even thinking about those names makes me nauseous. I dont know who i am. I know Im not going to give up though.

Along with the extreme apathy and fibro fog i keep getting hit with memories of my parents talking about my cousin when I was younger. Rumors in the family of him sexually assaulting his brother, beating up his brother...did that happen to me? Part of me just doesn't care.

I have no idea if I believe my parents or not. I know that either my parents or their siblings are liars and con men. The only safe option is to close them all out. Building up an emotional brick wall is even harder than i realised. Especially when they talk about moving into the retirement house, leaving me at peace here. I dont want to feel any positives about any of them, all that will happen is they will see a crack in the wall and use it to their advantage.

All of them just want to bicker about each other, and me being impartial means they 'confide' in me more. I try to block them out, herd them away but they are too wrapped up in their own shit that they don't notice my hardened stares. They know stress makes me sick, they just dont care until they can get sympathy for having a disabled daughter.

Part of me thinks about telling them everything they dont know, but that would make me on their level. They would twist my bad experiences around and make it their own, if lucky I will be provided some pity and a condescending remark from dad or mum might just say 'build a bridge and get over it.' She'll go to her frienimies who have competitions to see which daughter has the most problems. So far she's told them I was a drug addict [never been one], I was a prostitute [I had platonic guy friends she assumed I was fucking]and I was literally insane [admittedly this was based on my dating history and technically correct, i was nuts for dating those wankers]. It's safer to just keep quiet and build that wall.

Do I break up my parent's marriage by telling mum that from the age of 3 dad brainwashed me against her? That I was so fucked up in high school that I believed him when he said we'd get away from her? Do I tell her I caught dad cheating on her when I was 16? That the only reason he came clean was because I caught him and he was being blackmailed? Do I tell her I dont blame her for not wanting kids in the first place? That I'd rather she'd be happy than have kids? It wasn't worth being around her temper. She may have done her best, and I respect her for that. But dad's love has always been and will always be conditional. Mum will always make my problems her own, dad will always ensure he gets props and sympathy for dealing with me.

I made the mistake of trying to get past this shit, now I know i should have kept it with me. After all I have seen no change in all these years; Mum humiliates dad, dad uses that to get sympathy. I'm in the background getting angrier and angrier...until now. I'm not the bargaining chip in a black sheep's clothing.

I hate writing like this, i feel like some shitty emo, like i'm just trying to get sympathy for myself like dad does, all this does is make me feel dirty. I hate pity, that's why i cant talk about it. This way I can fool myself into thinking my audience here is just a bunch of pixels to help me get it out. I dont want to go back to my psychologist, he annoys the crap out of me. I dont want to go on medication, i have enough with my fibro medication as it is.

All I can do is enclose my experiences the wall; memories I wish i didn't have and one's I didn't know I had. They all stay safe with me, they can't be used against me. I can only trust my friends.

struggling to get out of bed, still numb from everything. I know now that not a single person in my family can be trusted. I hate them all, the few friends I have will be all I have anything to do with. I'm done. I'm so fucking done.

Buying a lock for my door, things are going to change

fucked up shit

Have you ever had a moment where you're wondering if you can trust your own memories? I'm having that at the moment and i'm so scared, how can I trust anyone?

I repress a lot from my childhood, why not? There's nothing i can do about the past, its gone, i cant change it and even though it made me who i am, it shouldn't hold me back from a worthwhile future. I disassociate myself from who I was then, I've made different choices and learned not to trust those who can hurt me.

The thing is instinctively I shy away from men, they are only friends, can only be friends and its extremely difficult for me to get into relationships. For years I wondered if it was due to parental mind games.

I met my cousin for the first time in about 20 years. My parents dont get a long with ANY siblings hence the lack of contact. Anyhoo i recently became friends with my mum's sister. My cuz is into tatts and piercings like I am and i was able to have a civil conversation with him. I get home and my parents are epically disapproving, I shrug it off based on the fact my cuz looks a bit rough due to the body mods and my parents are snobs. Finally mum strongly hints that he did something to me as a kid and dad lost his shit at the time.

"Did something" .... fuck that

Time to go back into therapy

last post

Hey dudes,

I wont be updating this anymore i've started tumblr account under unslothable. I'll probably delete this at some point.

Anyhoo

unslothable.tumblr.com

i reblog shit and do stuff :) if you have a tumblr let me know so i can follow

These are the new tatts :)

The sloth tattoo is on my lower left hip-favorite deadly sin, animal and my biggest character trait

The Phoenix and Southern Cross are in relation to Black Saturday where at least 173 died in the firestorm.

The rib tattoo is a spoon with butterfly wings aka spooniefly. I made this in relation to the spoon theory of chronic illness, the purple butterfly wings also represent chronic illness including fibromyalgia