Spiraling Downward

I hate being off my medication especially since it isn’t something I chose.  Sunday was bad.  Everyday this week I didn’t want to go to work.  Work itself wasn’t bad (except for the one individual telling me how to live me life and the other telling me how to do my job, which I already know how to do thank you very much since I’ve been doing it a whole lot longer than you, idiot).

All I want to do is hide.  To run away.

The bad thoughts are back.

The ones that tell me that I am not a good Catholic because I haven’t been to Mass, that I don’t pray in Latin and attend the EF while zealously promoting it.

That being a woman means I can’t be educated, that I have to hide and not feel my emotions, that I need to wrap myself up in a burqa, that I am stupid and ugly.

That by not being married and having kids I am going to Hell since I am not a real Catholic women.

That women need to be in abusive relationships as punishment for being born women.

That spanking, actually beating kids is a good idea and that women should be to.

That women should be locked up in the home never to leave.

That women are property.

That I can’t have any likes or dislikes because that means having a self and I have to die to self to be a good Catholic.

That I am unlovable.

That my parents were right about me not amounting to anything.

That having dreams was stupid and I should have just settled, actually should just settle for the lousy job I have now and not look for anything else.

That I deserve to be punished.

That crying is pointless and that I need to suppress my emotions and feelings and show happiness all the time.

That I need to jump on the traditionalist bandwagon.

That I need to wear skirts and veil all the time.

That I need to suppress any individuality.

That I deserve to be treated badly, to be abused as punishment for my depression, for being a woman.

That I am going to Hell for not going to Mass even when I need to sleep and for when I couldn’t go because I couldn’t handle it.

That I will be rejected by God for not hanging on even when I can’t handle it.

That I am already lost because I have depression.

That I need to pray the Rosary all the time even though I feel no connection to it.

That everyone is silently laughing behind my back at all the stupid stuff I do.

That I am going to be fired from my job for no apparent reason.

That I am going to lose all my money because the company I work for decides it wants it all back.

That I am useless, worthless, unlovable, ugly, in need of punishment, stupid, not wanted, and damaged.

That trust is never going to happen.

That I will never be loved.

That I will have to get married even though I don’t want to and that I will have to become a stay at home mother and have a dozen kids.

That everyone will think that I am making this all up.

That people will abandon me for having depression.

That people will abandon me for not being what they want.

That I will never have a dream come true.

That I am evil.

That I can never be loved by God.

That everything I do right now is pointless and useless.

I hate this and I hate myself.  I want my medication back and that truly scares me because it means I am more broken than I can fix and I don’t want to be that broken that I can never be fixed.  I didn’t want to go on medication but I did and now I need it just to survive.  I feel like such a loser.

Here I am in tears again and the only place I can talk about all this is here because I don’t have anybody in real life to talk about all this with.  I hate being me.



Type this later, if I remember.

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