In Response To Those Who Just Don’t, Won’t, Can’t Get It

I have been throwing shitballs at the walls for over three years hoping to see if anything sticks. I’ve suffered from severe clinical depression for 40 years and was well managed with diligent attention to therapy and medications. Now, nothing works. Medication-resistant. I’ve tried everything, truly, from the very latest meds, independent psychiatric assessments from respected hospitals, meditation, yoga and all related types of treatment, more exercise, better diet, new therapists, ECT, a suicide attempt, several hospitalizations and on and on. The pain never stops. The tears never stop. I can’t work. I’ve left my family in order to save them; no one begged me to stay. I’ve lost virtually every friend I’ve ever had. I’ve turned to God. He’s ignoring me like everyone else. There’s nothing left, except my lonely, isolated self sitting in a pile of shit that has fallen from the walls.

Continue reading “In Response To Those Who Just Don’t, Won’t, Can’t Get It”

Random Thoughts: My Six Word Stories-Volume Three

Taxes, Diet. My least favorite words.

Saw my groom, made my exit.

Lou, too blue. Who knew? Few.

Does Mother Nature need some Xanax?

Stockpile “happy pills”. Chaos is inevitable.

Sometimes, it’s not who, but when.

Tomorrow is day after tomorrow’s yesterday.

The meaning of life? Define life.

Kids’ student loans will outlive me.

You need space? See ya never.

Need ideas for my gratitude journal.

Don’t have kids til they’re thirty.

Red flags? Bad vibes? Extricate yourself.

My least favorite child? “Not Me”.

This is it? There’s nothing more?

Mom was wrong always and never.

Path of least resistance is lazy.

The low road is terribly overcrowded.

You’ve lost yourself; who has you?

Being invisable, unavailable, is powerfully peaceful.

I am governed by despotic teenagers.

Just tell the truth. I’ll live.

Lost power due to internal storm.

I said I’m fine. I lied.

Being Ghosted: It Was All A Lie

From the prompt posted on Thecreative.cafe
“Half of the people lie with their lips; the other half with their tears”― Nassim Nicholas Taleb

“Ghosted” is a new-ish term to me. I don’t know, maybe it’s been around for a while and I just didn’t know how popular it had become in our current lexicon. When I look up the word in my trusty online dictionary app, the definition I’m referring to in this story is 23rd on the list of definitions applicable to the word, as follows: 

to suddenly end all contact with a person without explanation, especially in a romantic relationship: They dated for a month and then she ghosted.”

“to leave a social event or gathering suddenly without saying goodbye: I’m getting tired so I think I might just ghost.”

Well there ya go. Now I have a word for what has happened. I’ve been “ghosted”. In my case it didn’t happen in a romantic relationship but rather a BFF relationship (Best Friends Forever, for anyone who is way out of the loop).

I’ve accepted that I am the common denominator; I know I haven’t had the most pleasing personality lately, or the most cheerful heart, as my therapist used to say. I am acutely aware that I’ve become quite unlikeable. But what I don’t know is why? What did I do that was so beyond the pale that someone who had been a very close friend for some 30 years, someone with whom I’ve shared many experiences, talked with every day at least once or twenty times, told each other every single bit of minutiae about our lives because it truly mattered, vacationed together, were in attendance at each other’s weddings, childbirth, divorces, etc.-you get the picture. We were each others’ “person”, our go-to gal for all and sundry.

And then one day, just seemingly out of fucking nowhere, ghosted. Never heard from again. Not answering any calls, texts, letters. Mutual friends don’t know anything, don’t want to get involved. Just……..nothing. Never again.

Come on people! Seriously? She didn’t  have the balls just even acknowledge that a friendship even existed? I’m losing my mind here. The not knowing why part is truly excruciating. Years go by and I still can’t figure it out. I’m still tortured. My husband pinpoints that first ghosting as the beginning of my mental and emotional deterioration.

There was absolutely nothing that I did, consciously, to cause this behavior on her part. I am only left with assuming something had been building up and she just couldn’t take it anymore. And I can accept that, even own it, but she can’t have the simplest decency to just tell me why, then goodbye? She is negating every single thing we’ve ever meant to each other. Her actions, or rather lack thereof, make every day of our decades of friendship one big soul-sucking lie. Really?

I can’t begin to explain the heartache being ghosted causes. It’s sad and hard enough to lose what feels like everything in one moment, but to spend the rest of my life not knowing why, or what, exactly happened the moment my friend decided, “Nope! No more! I’m done with her! She has only herself to blame! I don’t owe her anything!”

Uhhhhh, yes you do, bitch. Who are you, anyway? What a mockery you’ve made of everything. How can you live with yourself? And what kind of loser am I to have loved you and cherished our friendship all these years? And yet you say nothing. You are a ghost, an apparition, a daydream turned nightmare. Did you even exist?

This is not the same as friends drifting apart and eventually just not being in touch again. That’s normal, common, acceptable. People change, their lives evolve, they move on in a different direction. But the friendship did exist. And you can even send a Christmas card each year and feel sure it will be received warmly. But this ghosting business? This is unacceptable behavior, this is wrong on every level, this is war! You just don’t do this to a person.

But she did. It’s quite simply the most gutless, spineless, cowardly, and yes, even stunningly perverse, way to nullify another human being’s existence. I feel so betrayed. So misunderstood. So perplexed. So incredibly hurt. I feel just plain stupid. It was all a lie. I’m nobody to her and I never was.  I cannot and will not ever trust anyone again.

So I’m nobody. It’s all been just one big fucking whopper of a lie. I guess it’s fair to say that I really only exist in my own tortured mind.

I’m invisible. I don’t exist. I’m a ghost.

Random Thoughts: My Six Word Stories-Volume Two

Why bother to try? Never resolved.

Loneliness is underrated. I embrace it.

Never made a mistake? You’re mistaken.

A dropped nail is never found.

Becoming a parent means goodbye, you.

Children leave, never come back. Yay!

Children don’t leave; when’s it over?

Children leave or don’t. Never over.

Downsize. It’s all just junk now.

Children born. Children frolic. Children leave.

Work sucks. Retirement never soon enough.

Plan. Accept nothing goes as planned.

Don’t ask? Then answer always No.

Being bullied? So is your bully.

High road is best, but lonely.

Every moment is a teaching moment.

Time: No pause, FF, rewind. Wait.

Opposite of love? Hate? No, apathy.

Choosing to ghost someone is cowardly.

Children change everything….for the best.

Women: periods, pregnancy, menopause. Men: sex.

I dare you to define fairness.

We’re living in the Twilight Zone.

When is too much, too much?

Born, educated, married, parented, abandoned, died.

Overthinking is torture. Puerility much preferred.

Be naive; be obtuse; be happy.

Be complicated; be circumspect; be miserable.

If you could redo, would you?

Compassion

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I deserve to show myself the same compassion I show others. And I deserve to receive the same compassion I show others. It’s time to start practicing “No Blame, No Shame”. It’s time to love myself for who I am and accept myself for how I feel. I often say things to others that are hurtful and burdensome but I know that what I say comes from my own pain, not from malice towards others. I am crying out for help; I am asking to be heard. Not criticized. Not rejected. Not blamed. I am asking for patience. I am asking for relevance. I am asking for validation. I am asking for forgiveness. I am asking for unconditional love. I am asking for compassion. I am asking for grace. I am asking for peace.

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Mistakes: We Make Them, We Are Prey To Them, We Learn From Them, We Forget Them, And Hopefully We Forgive Them.

Note: From a Prompt on the writing website TheCreative.Cafe:                             “I never made a mistake in my life; at least, never one that I couldn’t   explain away afterwards.”
― Rudyard Kipling

Mistakes are nothing if not subjective. My mistake is someone else’s good fortune. I may consider that someone I care about is making a mistake but who among us has the right to judge someone else’s choices? There is a great deal of arrogance in telling someone that they are making a bad decision, or have mistakenly observed something that isn’t exactly how they perceive. We as individuals absolutely must own 100% our personal choices, decisions, perceptions. Furthermore, no one is allowed to take anything away from us.

If I have caused something to happen that I then perceive to have been a mistake, my first job is to own it. I personally don’t have the lack of conscious to deny it or try to hide it. So I own it and I try to fix it. Sometimes I can, and other times, I cannot. If I am accused of having made a mistake, and I disagree with the perception that I have done something wrong, I will defend myself. I don’t believe that I am aggressively defensive, and I do try to hear the opposing opinion. But the flattest pancake has two sides, does it not? If we cannot resolve the conflict, if acceptance of misconception is not available, if we cannot agree to disagree, if apologies and forgiveness are not on the table, then who wins? Obviously no one. And sometimes permanent damage is done.

I live by my own personal motto which is that I only regret the things I don’t do. So since that is my true and authentic self, it goes without saying that I will make mistakes. I make choices based on that motto, based on the fact that if I don’t do something that I want to do, then I will never know what the outcome would have been and I find that regrettable. I am not an impulsive person, I do not feel “the need for speed”, I am not a danger to myself or to society. I’m just a regular person who tries to be true to myself while also being conscious of those around me and I do my best to make good choices, consider in advance any possible repercussions, and act accordingly. And as I said, if I end up producing an epic fail, then I do my best to rectify it.

I am human; I am fallible. I’m am absolutely imperfect. I do not know all the right things to say and do all the time. I try not to hold grudges but I do expect decency and I reserve the right to walk away from people who I believe do not have their own or my best interests at heart. I do believe that there are people who make mistakes knowingly to the detriment of others. It’s an attention-getting mechanism and it works quite a bit of the time. I’m sure I’ve been accused of such acts myself.

I simply choose to believe the following:

Everyone makes mistakes.

Not everyone knows or intends to makes mistakes that hurt other people.

The definition of what is a mistake will vary.

Sometimes it’s never really clear whether a mistake was really made.

If one knows he is mistaken, I hope he will own it and do his best to rectify it.

Those who think they’ve never make a mistake are quite mistaken.

We are mostly likely offered an opportunity to learn from our own or others’ mistakes.

Mistakes are not automatically bad.

Having the ability to sincerely admit your mistake and forgive others’ mistakes is healthy and even comforting.

For the unknown number of mistakes I’ve made in my lifetime, I can only hope that the goodness in me outweighs the ignorance in my choices that turn out to be mistakes that hurt others. As far as my mistakes that only affect me, I long ago offered myself a blanket forgiveness. I’m flawed, I err, I offend, I neglect, I forget, I’m human, and I forgive.