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Two bitches, foaming at the mouth, always ready to pounce on me. I feel their saliva dripping, I am close enough to feel their hot breath on my skin, I want them to back off, I scream for them to leave me alone but they stop short of biting me and tearing my face apart with their sharp, pointed teeth. I am bleeding, all over, yet they can’t see it or they don’t want to acknowledge how much pain they cause me. It’s easier to blame me.

I know nothing will change. I have fought this battle so many times before and I still feel empty, scared and I am hiding in bed. I don’t want to talk to anyone, see anyone. I feel sick, my stomach is in knots, I drink tea with milk and honey, a sure sign of my malaise. There is sunlight coming in through the window but I don’t see it, I turn to the wall instead where the shadows are dark; the door of my room has been shut tight all day. There is no one I know that can make me feel better; it’s been non-stop stress for weeks and I feel like I want to run away.

I want to be like my childhood friend who lives for herself, wherever she pleases, dining, dancing, enjoying life. I am not enjoying life right now, I am barely getting by. My body hurts, my heart hurts and I’m questioning if my soul is even alive anymore or if it is even attached to my body. I don’t think it is. I saw a professional who was the opposite of professional, she, a nasty, cold, devil who did more harm than good. How can you abuse a patient? I just recently let her go but her words still ring harshly in my ears, there are many bad doctors in the world, untrained, shameless, heartless with just initials after the name to claim their worthiness. It’s not enough.

I’m wounded but not like a soldier bravely marching back to duty. I feel defeated and empty, in despair. My stomach rebels with a hard knot and pain on the back of my lower right side. I don’t eat, I’m not hungry. I am more than sad, less than suicidal; I’m a tightrope walker without a net. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before. I wish I could hate it so I could claw my way out of it but I don’t have the energy or the will to do so. I am tired but not sleepy; I am forgotten. I don’t know who I used to be just how I feel right now.

3 thoughts on “Alone

  1. I do understand how you feel.
    I have been there before, and am there again now.
    My family totally dysfunctional, even when they are acting “nice” they have undertones of … Wendy you have not lived up to the expectations we had for you. Ugh!
    But everything has been crashing down on me recently. You know.

    Finding a good therapist is hard. I suggest interviewing them first, or during your first appointment. How they plan to help you? What schools of psychology they believe in? And just some things to see if you hit it off.

    I’ve had some good therapists, and so really crappy ones too. The one I have now is great. And my psychiatrist is amazing, he writes my prescriptions…and he really works to find the write combination for me. It is imperative you find people to surround you to counteract the negative, and build you up.

    Your tormentors….shame on them…I’ve had a few myself…mostly my family, I finally had to draw a line, and I’ll only see them under my rules. Or not at all. I hope you can come to a place where they no longer torment you.

    hugs to you.


  2. It’s so hard when you feel like that, the world becomes bleak, and there seems only to be walls, not doors. I know it sounds so clique, but this too shall pass; it is a moment in time — you are in the black hole, but you will, through your own strength of will, and the willing help of others, see and touch the starlight again as you walk the ladder upwards and out into the million possiblities that the galaxy holds.


  3. I described it as drowning in a pool full of people yet no-one notices.
    I see you and i hear you.Your cries are not unheard and even though i cannot physically hold you or stand between you and your tormentors perhaps knowing i am here can give you some reprieve.Your existence is important to me!


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