I wish I could go back into my angel phase.. I don't know if I need to explain this any further, as evidence of it is under "angel" on my page, but it was interesting. Unstable, but at least I had a reason to live. I have a base knot in my stomach, something deep within me that wants to cling to life with every ounce of my body. I'm at the end of my rope, desperately gripping, burning, callousing, using every ounce of strength I have to try to not touch the ground. It's like an ultimate game of "the floor is lava", except the floor is death.

I told my therapist about my suicidal thoughts and we created a safety plan, and at first I felt better... I don't really want to die, I don't think. I wish I could just go back to the hospital. I don't know how it would be this time, as I would probably have a roomate due to covid-19 not being as big of a deal nowadays. I read somewhere that a lot of people with AvPD go to prison for the security it brings.. I believe it. Part of me has considered just about killing someone just to feel safe. I don't know what I want to do with my life, so my brain tries to think of the most extreme things possible (the security and consistency that is found in a hospital, prison, or possibly death) in order to cope. But that isn't really coping, is it? My therapist says we'll never find a life worth living if I always have one foot in the grave, always planning. Some of you may not get this, get wanting to be confined. Let me explain. All of my life I have been forgotten about, borderline neglected. Invalidated. Etc. At the hospital, they made sure 3 times a day (3!!!! that's so fucking much!!!) that I was fed, the staff listened to my mental health problems instead of saying "everyone does that" or "stop googling things" and don't pretend to be surprised when I have issues even though I told them about these issues before. They listen the first time. They didn't belittle me. When I had troubles sleeping, a nice nurse that reminded me of my highschool Psychology and US History teacher at the time played rain sounds for me. For the first time in my life I felt truly cared for, unconditionally. I know a lot of people had bad experiences at the psych ward, but I would do almost anything to go back. I want to feel safe again. I want to feel more stable, to be able to get the medicine that I need, I want other people to love me. Because that's what it felt like. Being fed consistently and being listened to felt like a love that I had never received in my life. The consistent scheduling, everything was consistent. There was form, structure, rigidity. When I expressed that not being allowed access to things that could injure or kill me, I was watched more and not just brushed to the side. I felt like I could tell the people there about my problems, because I knew that they wouldn't have made me feel like a fucking idiot for ever, ever, mentioning it. I know that a lot of people do not look back at the psych ward fondly, which is why it makes my perspective feel all the more fucked up.

About a week or so after getting released, my mom forgot to feed me dinner. I bawled to someone that was there about the feelings I just wrote about, the feeling that I missed the psych ward so deeply because of how much safer it felt than home. I still feel shame for feeling that way. I feel like home should be the place that makes you feel safe. When you think of home, you think of security. My dad should not have made me feel creeped out to the point of a meltdown during elementary school just because he put his palm to my back. I never felt safe in the one place that I should have. And I used to. That's why it hurts so much. Because I thought I did feel safe. Because I pushed it so down that I didn't feel it anymore. I wasn't allowed to feel like that or to have boundaries or to hate my family for how they made me feel. I wasn't allowed to talk to my mom about my dad because he was my dad and I was supposed to love him and my mom would always never comfort me or say that it was okay for me to feel that way, because she didn't want to influence how I felt about my father. She wanted me to be able to build my own relationship with him, separate from her, and be able to decide things for my own. Why didn't she protect me? She tried to shelter us but she never protected us. I was never truly safe.

Going to try to not use "should" and "shouldn't" and black and white thinking because I know those are cognitive distortions. But I feel like throwing up. I hate that I was raised that way. I always had to play mother for myself, tell myself that everything would be okay, imaging stroking my own hair, etc. I want to make a good life for myself. I am really hurt. I am hurt by all of them. And I don't think I was ever allowed to feel hurt by them. By any of them. Because they were family. And you are supposed to love family no matter what. I think my dad was hurtful.. but the thing that killed me most was being led to believe that my mom was saving us. We were raised by a black widow. She fucking killed me. I trusted her, and it hurts more because I actually thought she was doing right by me. The more you lift someone up, the harder they fall.

I think my big goal in life for now, is to become a tattoo artist. At first it was just a goal because I thought it was attainable, but I think it would actually be nice to do. I don't think I want to go to college in order to have a job... I don't know how I would afford that, and I like day-to-day living. I don't think schooling is for me, even if I like to learn. I can buy books that I enjoy, and read them if I would like. I am currently doing that with "Multiplicity" by Rita Carter. I have an html file for it, too, just for me to annotate it on. I really like being able to share the joy, so to speak, so that is another reason I am making it. It's nice. Getting my feelings out felt really good. I cried, but it was worth it. Crying isn't even a bad thing to do. I have to remind myself of that. In my dreams, I live with someone and we are happily ever after. We will see! I think that person has some things that they should work on, but I definitely have things to work on. I haven't told them my feelings...... avpd moment o_o LOL. Last time I told a real real crush that lasted for more than a month about my feelings, I cried. I don't know if it was okay to do, it probably just made them feel guilty. Even that is an assumption. I should probably stop assuming so much. But for right now, I am working on not interrupting as much, since I don't like it when it's done to me.

I like the way my website looks, but I also don't .... I want it to feel more consitent, and I think I want to create easier navigation for G.E.S...? I don't know for sure. Maybe I will! I like the way it looks now, I would also just like to have a typed-out navigation page for it, since it is still growing and I will be creating more pages for it in the future. We will see !

I don't think I want to go to prison, I just want life to feel better. It will.. I have already grown. I am taking baby steps. And baby steps are still steps taken. Just need to remind myself of that.

Written April 30th, 2022.