Living with Chronic Pain & Mental Illness: The Big, Unforgettable “T”

The Trauma now runs through my blood. Every day of my life. I remember the pain. I remember things I shouldn’t. I fall numb, scared, and rare times where I can break into tears when I remember. Worse of all, I still love them. I still think they didn’t mean their abusive ways. I still think that they had good intentions.

Meanwhile what they did, said otherwise. Their words said otherwise. It was not kind nor it meant to be. It was meant to belittle me for their superior complex, it was meant to damage. Meant to burn. It was meant to destroy. It was a blunt action to tell me that, I am nothing to them. I am not on the same level, I’m not dear to them, I’m not anything but a great toy. And sadly, I remember as they were… who I thought they were.. and I love that memory. I hate that. I feel stupid. I feel like I still need to recover. I’m still in grief.

I forgave them. I thought that the fact that I forgive them, it means I’ve moved on. Although I am disappointed for what they did, I won’t forget it; and I will be cautious of the future and I don’t ever want to be in that environment ever again. I don’t ever want to be like them. However due to how I grew up and what I believe in the end.. these people have great relations to me so I will still give my respects but I won’t stand in that spot ever again.

But I’m wrong about what and who I’m forgiving by all these horrible flashbacks.

I’m forgiving the illusions. I’m forgiving who I thought they were. I’m forgiving the fake. I’m forgiving the fake persona they put upon themselves all these years. But now I know. I know too much. Though I wish I didn’t….. And I don’t think I’m over it if I keep remembering and this different… Continue reading “Living with Chronic Pain & Mental Illness: The Big, Unforgettable “T””

Katana Thoughts: That Journey

I suffer from anxieties for years but not major depressive disorder. I got it there… Due to some events… I closed up and was extremely unlike myself and depressed for a week and it was the week of my birthday when it all went down. What’s funny is that three days after my birthday, when I went to see my migraine specialist, when I told of it all… and broke down. I still tried to lie that I was ok but I wasnt because I didn’t want them to get in trouble. I justified their actions.. I broke when she said cops should handle an incident but I said no. Though most likely I could be handling not just depression from the environment and incidents but from being off my meds (which a dude took away…)

I said no.. in denial and for their reputation. That..it was all my fault. My doing. Also my fault because I didn’t stand up more or call the cops.. 

I can’t help but to remember my stay at CAMH (yes a psychiatric ward.) I felt so unsafe at home. I felt so broken. I was so tired of it. That it.. was the reason I wasn’t able to say because it would ruin reputations and hurt many feelings. But I was bullied by blood and treated horrible to the point where when I defended myself or distance.. it made things worse because I didn’t agree to their name calling..

But anyways…Despite the obvious was there…. I still looked at them as the person I thought I knew. I looked at their fun side and smiles.

It wasn’t until I realized that I was totally alone. When they made it clear where I stood to them. I broke down because they always said family stuck together so I grew up believing that so when rumors came out I even dismissed it. But when I actually listen they were often bullying and secluding other members.

But anyways those days before CAMH…I remember crying until I was numb. I still cried or teared thinking about it though. When I went to the hospital… I cried hard for the first days. I was embarrassed because their stereotypes and words about it despite they’re in the medical field…they were all very hateful. I hoped hard that they’d visit or don’t mind delivering clothes but they fussed still. I was left clothes-less. I only had what I had on when I went in. Which was only things I’d bring when I go to an appointment or another and straight home.. 

This moment confused me and bothered me a long time. Besides people I praised often..never visiting and saying that they’d never will set foot in there for fear of bad luck or turning psycho themselves….

But anyways it was when I decided to leave my room to eat lunch with others. They were normal as one can be. The others in the ward were kind and understanding.

What broke me…that moment..that I can’t stop thinking about was just when I was cool and finished crying… I broke in tears when another patient offered me her daughter’s clothes. Gave me a bit of shampoo and others while telling me that it’s ok and that they’ll help me out.

I didn’t understand why I cried then but I knew inside… I don’t know… I was still in denial as their words are in my head. But that moment.. I’ve never felt that kind of kindness before. Just that care. Sincerity. I’m not used to it. 

It still makes me think… fuck.. was I that deprived of Care/Nurture? Love? Sincerity? Did I really never had this before?

I’m honestly used to giving and I don’t mind. When I care and love people… I do what I can. We may have disagreements but I still hope to make them comfortable and happy. I grew up like that. I wished I got what I gave but..I didn’t think much about it. I was just so in love and happy with my family and friends.

It just hurts still. Because I still can’t let go. I still view them for the good…when the bad really outweighs the good.. like things that was done and did was cruel and they’re unapologetic for their actions and words.

I’m just not biased. I side on truth and intentions. Whether we cool or not. And if we ever argue.. as much as I’m mad.. I would never ever ever cross the line. I don’t ever want to go on the point. I DON’T WANT TO HARM THE OTHER JUST FOR THE SAKE OF WINNING. There is no winning or losing but just and only understanding and growing together. At least I hoped. But all my life.. if there’s a disagreement… stabs are taken..by me. I cry at each. But I can’t do anything out of being cornered.

All my life.. no matter what truth… whatever they’re set on. It’s that.

I just want no part of it. If letting them go to heal and be away fron repeated harm, means I must let go of the innocent bystanders…. so be it. It hurts. And I’m still recovering. But the pain caused is too great.