So good news, well ok not so amazing, but still good.  I am going away tomorrow, catching a bus and going to spend just over a week with David.  There will be no cliffs to jump off and we wouldn’t do anything for him to come home to.  So for at least 10 days our suicide risk is pretty damn low.  Now we may still hope for the bus to crash or a mountain to explode or something but hell that’s just us right now. I managed to get the $200 I owe him organised, it won’t, unfortunately be ready until Tuesday which is a pain, but still better than not being able to give it to him at all.  And of course I get to spend 10 days with him which I know will be a good thing, but right now there is a lot of fear attached to that.  We might not be able to manage the good image as well as we normally would and not sure how he will react to that.  Which leads us nicely to the bad news.
 

David’s dad isn’t doing well, I am pretty sure he hasn’t got much longer to live.  I haven’t heard the latest because David was working last night.  This was known to be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him, and the distance only adds to the helplessness.  So I want to be there as much as possible for him, but I also know he’s pretty much a guy when it comes to talking about stuff.  Hell sometimes I think I’m a guy, so I really get that not talking thing.   
 

On a slightly more trivial note, it seems because we were so depressed of late we stopped taking the pill.  See, when you are thinking about taking your life, and can’t manage to get out of bed, contraception isn’t high on the list of priorities.  No big deal until you realise you are going up to see your partner in two days and it takes 2 weeks for the pill to take effect.  So basically I’m screwed, or not as the case may be.  Will deal with it I suppose, then take the injection, since taking a pill regularly isn’t something any of us can seem to keep a handle on.  An IUD would be the best bet, but there just is no way that is going to happen anytime soon. 
 

On the indifferent news, which I know should probably be good news, but really I don’t care that much, definitely not as much as I probably should, my brother and his wife had their third baby yesterday.  He seems healthy and everything, and they sent out of pictures.  But well I don’t care that much.  It’s something my family and a lot of my friends don’t get.  It has nothing to do with trauma or my family, its simply I am not that maternal, I don’t … well I just don’t care that much about babies.  Yes I am glad that he was born and everyone is happy but beyond that, well yeah.

There’s a contradiction there.  We want you there, but we will set out to make you feel as uncomfortable as we can when you are there.  So why do I go back, because I am constantly told it isn’t real, that it is my imagination, it is me being oversensitive, that I need to harden up, learn to take a joke, whatever little quip is put on it to say it’s all my fault anyway.  I have heard that so many times I tell myself its true.  So I go to a place where I am bombarded with the feelings of being an unwelcome intruder because I am told my feelings are wrong. And in typing that I see another little sign.  I am always told what I feel is happening, what I see people doing is wrong, that I am mistaken but they never are.  We all speak the truth and only the truth, so your feelings are invalid they don’t deserve being listened to.  Now I have been told this is simply re-enacting our past the feelings of invalidation and being unwelcome, so I play it with people now, force them into that dynamic.  Sounds all shiny and amazing, but it could just be the normal psycho babble that says hey it’s not us, it’s all your fault again.  So I kind of nod and take it accept it is this way and it won’t change, that I will always be the wrong one for whatever the reason of the day is, and I allow myself to take it on board, feel like shit, feel small and pathetic and worthless.  I tell myself it doesn’t matter, or that they are trying to be helpful, or I screwed up, or they just don’t understand, all the words that are suppose to make it ok, but really they either just bounce off or add to the effect of it.  Perhaps it has come time to walk away again, to say, it is not worth its price.  We get so afraid of being alone in this world, of having no one know we exist that we become willing to put up with things that give us little more than extra pain.  We usually see it really early on in things, that it is costing us such a high price, but we can accept that because we are too afraid of the alternative.  It is another one of our contradictions, we work so hard to be invisible to be overlooked and unnoticed and yet we are deathly afraid of becoming non-existent, they are different things, even though on the surface they might not appear to be. 
 

So where does this leave me in this ramble?  Or in my life?  I need to consider things, I need to learn to say I don’t care if I am wrong or right, that if I am feeling uncomfortable and rejected and attacked then that’s what I am feeling.  I don’t have to prove it to anyone, to be able to stand up in front of a group of my peers and justify my feelings, they are what they are.  It sounds so good and healthy on paper, when I type it it’s like damn of course how easy, how healthy, that’s my answer.  It’s not like that though, life is not as simple as me finding the right words to put down on paper.  I wish it was, hell if it was I would have probably been on the good side of this recovery shit by now.  I lay out before me the people and things I would be saying good bye to, and it makes me sad.  I have had to say good bye to enough this year, but again I find more that needs that.  Some of the sadness is the knowledge I suppose that a large percentage of them won’t even notice I am no longer there, they will move on probably without a sideways glance.  But mostly I am not looking forward to the adjustments I will have to make.  I have come to hide myself in places, in people, and now it falls to facing my life.  I’ll miss them and I will have to try to find a new way of being without them in my life.  But I will have to admit that it is easier sometimes to feel alone and miserable that to sit with people and know that you are not welcome, that you do not belong and are disliked.

It has been months since I wrote anything here.  It’s not like I didn’t have anything to write, it was more that the lack of motivation made it impossible to sit down and write.  Since then a lot of things have happened, some good, some bad, some horrendous.  I probably should do some sort of catch up but again, can’t be bothered with that.  Some stuff will probably come up as I start talking about current events anyway.
 

So where are we?  The best way to explain it is standing on the edge of the cliff waiting to slip over the edge.  This sort of makes sense time line wise, although it is hard to connect it with Dad dying directly.  Regardless of when it started the last month has been extremely difficult.  End result, we have to take a medical withdraw from school, we are virtually housebound, severely post-trauma and depressive and yeah basically one step away from being dead.  It’s a grand way to live.  I can honestly say it has been years since I was this sick, there are certain things that I had become so use to just being able to do, without any stress or complications.  Now I find I can’t manage them.  It’s a step backwards, huge arsed one for certain.  I’ve given up on a lot of things, and let a lot of them give up on me.  School, friendships, support, all have changed over the last few months.  I am hoping the withdraw from school is only temporary, that I will be able to manage to go back, it would be sad to have done so much work to have it all drop away now. Having to give up on this year was painful enough, the feelings of failure are very strong there.  It started off really well, but then Dad getting sick made it hard, then us getting sick made it impossible, we couldn’t do the work, couldn’t get down to class.  I don’t know how this is going to work out, I still have to get my arse down to the University to pull out which is proving impossible.  I only really go out to go to therapy and to sneak out to the supermarket in the middle of the night.   My support system really sucks right now.  Bob finally called it quits on us.  About 3 weeks ago something happened, from what I can tell someone really offensive was out, and he felt threatened so left.  Now this has happened before, generally its been, ok I can’t work with you today give me a call if you need me or I will see you next week.  This time however he said unless we rang him the therapy relationship was over.  He walked out, we were left unsupported.  Now I know there is some responsibility on our end, the person that was there probably shouldn’t have said whatever they said (no idea what it was) and yeah we could have rung him and apologised and asked from him to return.  But we were in a place and are actually still in a place where swallowing our pride and grovelling to get help isn’t acceptable to us, isn’t something we are willing to do.  The cost would be too high and I am not entirely sure that there would be any benefit from it.  So our help is therapy with Sean once a week.  It upsets me a little, well ok, a lot, but it does go to prove the point that everyone has a limit that they will reach.  I don’t know how exactly we pushed to that limit this time but it seems we did.  It also angers me a lot that being upfront and telling him how crazy it was, how suicidal and out of control it was, he would chose that time to call it quits but nothing can really be done about that. 
 

It’s hard to write anything all thrilling and worth reading.  When you are standing on the edge everything else seems to fade or be so distant it hardly exists.  I suppose if I tried really hard I could make a happy entry and prove to the world that I am really ok.  But well what’s the point, not like I really have an image to keep up for anyone at the moment.  A lot of this they say is because when Dad died it stirred up a lot of stuff and then my mother has been calling on us for support more.  But again, it doesn’t seem just that, but I don’t know how these things work, I don’t know what’s enough to set stuff off and how things that seem totally unrelated to any of that can burst forward.   Sean in all his wisdom says the only way out of this is to change our relationship with our mother.  He says this doesn’t mean we have to confront her, or get her out of our life, although he still continues to push for the later, but rather dramatically alter the dynamic.  Of course we hear that and it makes perfect sense… except… too hard… blah blah blah… too scary… blah blah blah… too risky.  We don’t want to push at things when standing on the edge, but then comes the reply that deep down we know is true.  It is not going to be taking that risk, pushing hard that will make us lose our balance, it is standing still, waiting, too scared to move and we will simply slip off the edge.   But knowing that and finding the courage are different things it seems.  We are held down again by the weight of all this, without being able to find the crack to push our way out of it.  We are considering going to David’s for a week.  There are good reasons for going but it also might mean we have to be ok, we have to put on that everything is fine face for a week and maybe if we do a good enough job of it we will be able to even fool ourselves.  We are good at lying, to the world, to ourselves maybe that will be enough to give us momentum to do that again.  Yes everything is ok, see I can clean myself and my apartment, I can go out in the world and do what it is expected of me so everything is right in the world. 
 

Speaking of which… I decided yesterday to just hide out from the world.  Basically I just stayed in bed all day except for a couple of hours.  Not the best way to deal with it all I know, but it was the only thing we could really manage. Under those blankets there was no world, no friends telling you what a screw up you were, no one saying that you should be there for your mother, that you should get over it and move on, stop being so sensitive, so addicted to pain, so stuck in the past, no house demanding that it gets cleaned, no reminders of how big a failure you are, no demands, no one to show that you are ok to, nothing.  Of course the rest of the shit doesn’t stop, but you aren’t bombarded with everything else at the same time.  It’s been a long time since I have done that, since I have disappeared so totally from the world.  It was addictive.  I could see myself doing it for the next week, just never talking to anyone, never seeing anyone or having to do anything.  I know how destructive it is though, so I am up today.  I stayed in bed all morning, but I forced myself to get up, to wander aimlessly around the house, feeling lost and alone.  It’s just so fucking miserable being me at the moment.  On an even more cheery note, and such brilliant timing, since I haven’t been checking my mail, I haven’t been doing any housework, it proved that yesterday, the day of hiding in bed would also be the house inspection day, so I had someone come here to look around my house, to look at the mess of my place, and the mess of my being.  So that was terribly impressive and did nothing to harm my ego.