The contents of my mental chest of drawers.

So, I feel like I need to write about voices, psychologists, friends and relationships. Not necessarily in that order. Probably rather jumbled…

I saw the psychologist again today. I was nervous, because I felt like I had nothing to say. How wrong I was.

I suspect that the voices like me feeling unsure of myself and unsure that my current situation is real. They find it funny, and they delight in calling me a fake so much that sometimes I believe them. After I’ve started to doubt myself they then call me an idiot for believing them and they laugh at me.

I said this to the psychologist. I told her that I felt sometimes like I was going crazy because of this loop of thought. She told me that in no way should I feel like I’m making any of this up- she could tell by my very evident tears that my distress was real. I cried again today, describing the torment I have to go through every time I want a bath or shower.

It’s physically impossible to have a bath or shower without removing all your clothes, but the act of doing so makes me feel physically very unsafe and uncomfortable. I feel like I’m being watched. I feel so horrible without clothes. I get into the shower as fast as I can and then the voices start their stupid cacophony.

“You’re such a whore. Look at you, taking forever over washing a leg. Do you think you’re flaunting yourself or something? Do you think you’re sexy? Well you’re not, you’re a fucking slut who’s gagging for it.”

Et cetera. It makes me scrub as hard as I can to get out quick, and then I wrap myself in a massive towel and a dressing gown, and run for the safety of my room.

Where it starts all over again as I get dressed as fast as I can.

I told her this and she was concerned that this is what happens every time I have to take my clothes off. I feel anxious now writing about it. Plus, that speech from the voices of the dark passenger is highly edited. There is some truly vulgar stuff I have to listen to, and more than once I’ve hit myself in the head to shut them up.

She asked me about my childhood. I told her that when I was nine, I tried to hang myself to find out what it would be like to die, and was pissed off when my school tie snapped and the canopy over my bed came loose from the wall and I fell.

She asked me about a mention of bullying that had been on one of my notes. I told her that ever since I started school at 4/5 to leaving full time ballet training at 20, someone has set out to make me feel like shit.

I also told her that I have a daily fight with the dark passenger not to slit my arm open with a steak knife from elbow to wrist.

She thought I need a re-evaluation by the psychiatrist. My first reaction?

“Please can it not be her again?”

She said I could see someone else.

 

So I think it’s moving forward. She thinks the voices are either caused by psychosis, or maybe due to trauma. She also said she’s worried about the possible issue of Bipolar disorder, which I’m starting to think is more than likely. She has been so kind to me, and our next session is on the 11th October. I hope that I’m still as balanced then, but I fight every day to stay balanced.

My friend Y is having a tough fight. She has a lot of things that happened to her that make her doubt herself, and make her feel awful about herself. But I know she can do it. I know she can conquer her demons, because she is a good friend to me and that goodness will help her through.

My friend H, I think, is going through another tough time. I just want her to remember that whatever has happened, I will always be her friend.

I had a ring from my friend Z who’s been away with work recently- I’ve missed her so much and I really enjoyed catching up with her. Hopefully she’s coming to see me soon.

 

I really value my friends, and I feel like I have got back a lot of the relationships that I wasn’t allowed to have when I was with my ex. I am so happy that despite months of neglect, they have all come back to me and they have all been so kind, despite my faults.

 

Lastly but not leastly, I have begun to get enough self-confidence back to apply for something I’ve always wanted to do- and J helped me immensely in that regard. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at modelling but my ex thought I would be beneath his notice if I did, and i would be exploiting myself. Yeah, I could go ahead and do it, but I’d have no respect from him. This has changed so dramatically now, it’s a U-turn.

Because J hadn’t got enough pictures of me, I sent him some of the ones I had done professionally before I lost my mind. I was seized with guilt immediately after- the voices called me a whore again. It’s amazing how often that comes up in their vocabulary.

J was amazed and asked me why I hadn’t sent them to modelling agencies. He thought the ex’s opinion was bullshit and he was “blown away” by my photos.

So, I decided to give it a go- why the hell not? I need money to get to see him, and I enjoyed being in front of the camera back then…

I was shocked when I got asked to a shoot today. I turned up, full of nerves, flinching away from every man on the street, eyes locked onto the ground… and surprised myself by really enjoying the shoot. It was a really relaxed atmosphere, and it helped so much that the photographer was a woman. I managed to hide my scars really well (thank gods for foundation!) and I had J on IM as I made it back to the train station, so I wasn’t as frightened.

I surprised myself even more by getting accepted onto the agency’s books.

J is responsible for part of this, and my patient mum the other. She sat up late with me to choose the best photos, and he encouraged me and supported me from the word go. I feel like something has finally gone right, and I’ll be damned if the dark passenger gets hold of this and ruins it. Those bastard demons are getting nowhere near my J. Enough said.

I feel odd tonight, as if this has happened to a girl who isn’t me. I wonder if this displacement ever eases. I wonder when I will finally feel like my happiness happens to someone else, another me who deserves it.

It’s ok. Someday I might have a brain that functions better than it does. Someday, I might believe that I am the girl who I was before all this.

This is why J, my family and my friends are so precious. They believe I am that girl now, when I don’t even believe it myself.

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