I feel guilty.
I feel guilty all the time and some times I have to sit down and work out if it's rational guilt (I feel guilty for the awful things I've said and ways I've treated people) or irrational guilt (I feel guilty for not being a 'Pinterest mom' or a 'blog mom' and providing my children with a picturesque childhood). Rational or not it's there, it torments me and suffocates me and generally makes me feel shit which in turn makes me feel guilty for being so self centred.
Today has been very intense. I debated whether or not to post this but I realised that my nature is to bury this intensity away as fast as possible so this is really my only chance to get it out. Although whether or not that is good is questionable. And I'm supposed to be reining my blogging in and trying to find a niche so I can succumb to the pressure of trying to be a swanky and very interesting blogger. Posting how I feel when I feel rather mental is pretty much the opposite of that. I'm also unsure of what exactly this is. I would question some sort of episode except it doesn't feel like one. But that's even worse because I don't want this to be real because it hurts. A lot.
I know what triggered it at least. A possible opportunity that would change all of our lives for the better. Better than that if I'm honest, its relatively huge. Anxiety, mania threatening to burst out, fear, doubt, uncertainty. Hope? I struggle with hope. I struggle to believe that happiness is really 'out there' for me. Unsurprising given my history, more than my history, it flows into my present and why would it stop there? Why would now be the time for it all to stop? The constant darkness that seeps into my life and snatches the light that I'm clinging onto.
Sometimes if I rattle off my story people think I'm lying because no one can have that much bad luck. When I was an obnoxious brat on the Internet people used to accuse me of making things up for attention or sympathy (which is weird because I don't know how to process sympathy or compliments or attention properly, especially not in relation to my life). During a tutorial my tutor asked me how I cope. I don't have a choice but to cope, there's no how to consider. I just have to.
But even when I'm coping the darkness is still there and if I manage for a minute to find a space filled with light it's like how I imagine living inside a balloon would be. A space filled with light but darkness is pressing, squeezing and it's going to pop my ballon and I'll be engulfed again.
I accepted this as fact years ago, somewhere between my breakdown and Isla being born I realised that holding onto the hope that pain and darkness would stop interrupting my life and taking over the reins was far more painful than accepting the reality that it would happen and apparently pretty frequently.
Of course it's not always the same darkness either. Sometimes it's like the darkness in your childhood bedroom that's still lit by a nightlight or the light out on the landing. Other times it's like deep space and I can't breathe and I just want it all to be over.
I accepted this as some sort of a reality for me, I can't change it, nor can I fight it so acceptance was the only way forward. But I feel so guilty because my darkness doesn't limit itself to my emotions. It spreads itself out manipulating situations, time and people so it's not just how I feel it's bad luck, lost friends, lack of treatment options, my house, my body and it's pain and limitations. But bad luck doesn't just affect me. I'm pulling the people I love into the darkness with me just by continuing to be in their lives. This darkness that feels one step ahead of me is playing out the game of my life and I'm losing. I try to play my cards right but it's one step ahead and I can't ever seem to beat it. Sometimes I feel like I've caught a break, something gets better, I rebuild burnt bridges, make progress in my recovery etc and then it plays its next hand and I'm back exactly where I was before witch a few extra bruises where I've been kicked when I was already down.
Bad karma. Bad luck.
I am the queen of bad luck.
And everyone I love is getting hurt or losing out because of me.
Sometimes I feel like my children drew the short straw having me as a mother because of this darkness that interrupts and invades and somehow manages to always leave me as the one who misses out or is left alone.
They deserve more.
Everyone in my life deserves more than what I can bring to them because no matter how hard I try I won't ever be able to make up for this.
Sometimes I want to run away to keep them all safe.
Stop this thing, whatever it is seeping into their lives anymore.
But I don't, of course not.
I couldn't ever leave my children.
And that makes me feel guilty because isn't that just so selfish?
Ive been told I'm being over dramatic and ridiculous before but what people can never argue is that there is something in my life, in me that seems to poison the light. Everyone can see it, or at the the trail of destruction it's left behind.
And now we have this opportunity and I know it will fall through. These things don't happen to me. And so many people say that exact line that it's losing its validity a bit. But they really don't. And why would they start now? I can't believe it's possible.
And that makes me feel so guilty because if I were someone else it would be utterly possible and just by being me, by having this darkness it's like I'm taking away everyone else's chances.
My children's chances.
I feel so guilty.
I can't imagine I'll ever stop, unless whatever this is stops. Unless the darkness lifts and stops lurking and threatening to come down and snuff out the light again.
But I can't imagine that it ever will.
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