You know how they say you can lie to yourself, but you can’t escape from the truth? I have finally been forced to accept a truth that makes me want to curl up and never get up again. I am frail. Vulnerable to kindness. I can’t hate kind people, even when their kindness is cruelty. And I am even more helpless in front of love. I cannot harden my heart to those that love me, no matter how much I might dislike their brand of love or their methods to portray said love.
I am a perfectly functional member of society. I graduate college, am working at an international company, have worked in several fields, have a few people I can call friends, have a very dysfunctional family, and a person I want to spend my life with. I do well enough at work. I am looking forward to going back to school and getting a PhD in Chemistry. Yet, I feel unworthy of being loved or cared for. Every time I dare to think someone might want to love me as much as I love them, they make me realize that I ask for too much, I have unrealistically high expectations of them and myself, and I let myself down and felt let down by them.
I hate being controlled. My parents have spent their lives controlling mine and now I do not let them. This has upset them to the point of making them physically sick but I still won’t allow myself to be bound to their stupid rules any longer. I have free will and I am planning to exercise my right to do as I will for the rest of my life, whether or not they like it.
I think love is the biggest factor in the equation of my depression. I don’t feel loved, or loved enough, or feel smothered by and want to escape it, or feel unworthy of it and hate myself. Why that is, I can’t say, other than the fact that my parents never accepted me for who I was and were never really proud of me – nothing I did was good enough, and nothing I plan to do will make them happy. Their unhappiness brings me great pain, but at the same time I refuse to be suffocated by their demands, needs, and expectations. I don’t plan to live as their puppet or a doll they can manipulate. I am done living that life. But I can’t get over the anxiety they cause me every single day. I can find no peace at home, where I am forced to live with them day in and day out because they can’t function unless I’m there for them to see every single day. I lived on my own for a month before they begged me to come back so much I returned just to get them off my back. I miss being happy. I was happy on my own.
I know controlling parents are nothing new in the world of psychology. But I have many issues that tie in with the afore-mentioned and make me particularly volatile. I often want to die or not exist. I often wish I wasn’t born. And more than anything, I hate myself when I’m like this. I really do.
But I also am beginning to realize how harsh I am, both towards myself and those around me. No one is perfect, but I am always looking for some sort of perfection. The perfect pet, the perfect dress, the perfect job, the perfect person. And when I’m let down on any account, all I can do is try not to cry or rage, depending on the time of the day.
I am trying to confront my fears and shortcomings head on. I hope tomorrow will be better than today, today is certainly better than yesterday. That is one Big thing to remember – tomorrow is never the same.