No one knows what to say or do when it comes to me.
How could they? They can’t understand me because I can’t understand me.
Everything’s gone off and I can’t round it up again.
For instance, I know that everyone at my church hates me. They probably want to come and tell me to stop going there so that they don’t have my negativity affecting them.
No one has said or done anything to that effect. (No one has said or done anything, to be honest, with the exception of a few people saying they’d pray for me and a some encouraging words – all stuff I appreciate. But my brain has already provided the list (to me – it is in my brain after all) of what I need people to say or do for me in order for me to feel better. Unfortunately, since the list is in my head, no one knows what I need. See? And that’s what makes me mad at God – why doesn’t He tell people what I need?) But as surely as I know my name, I know that everyone in my church hates me and wants me to leave.
There. Does that make any sense to you? It doesn’t to me either.
But that’s where my brain goes and I’ve lost complete control of it. My mood jumps up and down like a yo-yo and it’s exhausts me like nothing else.
What fun it is to be a lunatic.
I wish I could do something nice for someone else, because that always makes me feel better. But no one tells me what they need. Why would they tell anything personal to someone who’s losing it?
I’m starting to think, with all the silence, that people are beginning to be afraid of me.
I’m beginning to be afraid of me.
What am I putting my children and husband through. My poor husband has no idea how to deal with me. I’ve tried to tell him what I need but I don’t think he understands me.
You know what I really need? I need people to either tell me that I’m right and that they hate me. Knowing is always better for me than not knowing. Or I need them to tell me I’m wrong and that they love me.
I’ll try to believe you if you tell me I’m wrong, but no guarantees.
Frustrating, isn’t it?
You should see how frustrating it is from my end.
I know my thinking is wrong, but it still affects me. Kinda like a Freddy Kruger thing – it’s only a dream but it still happens for real.