Q&A Saturday 5-9-15

Its Q&A Saturday! I love this day because I get to answer questions from you, my readers. The idea is simple, ask me questions either in the comments, on my Facebook page, or on my personal Facebook page and I’ll answer them here each Saturday. Until I build a good long list up, I’ll be answering one question a week. So, without further ado, here is the historic first question:

Wendi asks, “Do the doctors’ diagnoses and assumptions conflict with what you know to be going on with you?”

A pretty deep question, when the importance of a proper diagnosis is on the line. But I have to say that no, we are all in agreement on what my problems are, except for one item.

I have a family history of Autism Spectrum in my family, it seems. My sister is HFA, her daughter just recently became verbal on the spectrum. My own daughter has HFA and I honestly would not be surprised if I were to have my son diagnosed with Asperger’s. So with all the evidence, you’d think the doctor would jump to see if I had it too.

Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory has been assumed by some fans to have Asperger’s. (The character, not the actor, and I honestly don’t know how true it is.) I state this simply because I’ve had many friends compare me to him. So do I have HFA or Asperger’s? I don’t know because my therapist doesn’t want to diagnose it. She says it would make little difference right now simply because my biggest problem is my bipolar and PTSD. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want to be diagnosed today. Maybe a year from now, simply to help statistics, but not today.

As for the bipolar, PTSD, and social anxiety diagnoses, we’re in agreement. I seem to be a “professional victim” as one doctor had stated many years ago. I simply don’t know how to defend myself. My children, family, and friends, yes. Myself, no. The asthma, degenerative disc disease, and narcolepsy are spot on. So even that doctor has all my bases covered. With the new family history added, she’s now checking my blood sugar to see if my hypoglycemia has gotten better or worse. Time will tell there.

As you can see, I’m an open book here. Have a question to ask? Comment below and maybe I’ll answer your question next week! Until then, Love and Light to you all.

~Kat

I Can't

"I'm here if you need me."

"If you ever want to talk, let me know."

"Come to me whenever you need help."

I love you, but I can't. I already feel like I am a nuisance, I already feel like I'm a pain in the ass, I already feel the fool. I simply can't go to you, I wish I could make you see. Its fear, believe it is true. Fear keeps me from going to you. I'm scared to be ignored, and end up getting ignored because I'm scared to talk. Starting conversations is hard... Seriously almost impossible for me. It doesn't matter if it is online, over the phone, or in person. Starting the conversation is near impossible.

Add depression to the anxiety, and I have my fatal mix. I can't go to you. I just can't. So instead of telling me to go to you, can you come to me now and then? Please?

I Don't Blame You

Seriously, I don't. I understand. I'm a drama queen. I know. I'm an attention whore. I know. So I get it. I understand. And I'm not mad at you. Its completely understandable, with everything that has been said.

Its only depression. I know, I need to get over it. That's why you ignore me. You turn your back because you're so sick and tired of hearing about it. And I know, I don't stop talking about it. I'm only seeking attention, wanting everyone talking about me. I get it.

Its only anxiety. Everyone has it, and no one else is complaining about it. Everyone else gets up and goes to work. I know, I'm an attention whore since I don't leave my house alone. I understand you ignoring my pleas for help. Its annoying, and pathetic. I get it.

Please understand, I don't blame you. I do understand that you're sick and tired of me. You're tired of my attention seeking ways, my way of bringing everyone down. I know, your problems are so much worse. I get it.

I'm lazy. I'm pathetic. I'm faking it. I need to get over it. Its in the past, it needs to stay there.

Except, what you don't realize, is I understand that I have brought it all on myself. It was my choices.  I never should have walked into my mothers bedroom to see the kittens. I should have known that my stepfather was in the bathroom with the door open. I should have known, at 4, to knock first. I deserved the "punishment" he gave me. I deserved to learn what women were for at that age. Its important to know that from birth.

I never should have spent Labor Day weekend at Valerie and Veronica's house. I never should have walked away with Carl and Veronica. I never should have come back and threw what happened in those woods right in Lenny's face. I deserved what happened. I deserved being kept in that room the entire time with those 3 guys. I deserved being forced to do what I did. I should have fought more, because we all know the "no" really means yes when you are 14 and they are over 21.

I never should have worn those shorts to the beach with Jennifer, her boyfriend, and his friend. I never should have walked alone down the beach with that friend. I never should have. I should have fought more, I should have let him cut my throat. I deserved it.

I never should have worn jeans and a t-shirt to bed when I stayed the night at Jennifer's place a few months later. I should have known that her boyfriend's friend wanted "relief". Shame on me for being 15 and teasing his 20 year old hormones, by sleeping. I deserved what I got, I should have fought more. I should have let that knife cut me.

I deserved all the other times, because yes, they were more, that I was attacked. I should have fought. I should have allowed them to hurt me. I should have died rather than allow them to do what happened. It was my fault. It was these choices that have created the past I have. And these choices have led me to where I am today. I don't deserve to be depressed, to have anxiety, or to have flashbacks. I should suck it up and move on.

So please, I want to make sure you get this: I don't blame you for ignoring me when I'm depressed. I'm not mad at any of you for turning your back on me. I understand that I am at fault here. I understand that you simply can't deal with my crap anymore.

But please forgive me when my thoughts finally have their way and everything ends for me because no one was there to help me.

Journaling Assignment #7

The thing I wish other people would get about me is...

Actually, there a few things, and this list may easily change later on down the road. But today, I have a few. I'm not lazy, for one. What people perceive as laziness is actually depression, anxiety, and pain.

I don't want to be like this, but I am and likely will always be this way. Medication may or may not help, but it sure as hells won't cure me.

Just because I smile or laugh does not mean I am happy. I laugh when I am scared, hurt, sad, or angry too. The emotions get so strong that the only way I can cope is to laugh.

The letters "LOL" don't mean I am laughing, either. I sometimes use LOL to denote a joke or just to say something when I have nothing to say.

I have never learned how to properly converse with others, so my attempts at humor often fall short.

I hate hate. It is too absolute and completely illogical. Hate's only purpose is to be negative and push progress backward. Humans are meant to go forward, not backward.

I am lonely. I don't just crave closeness, I need it in order to survive. I am dying inside every day I don't have that closeness I crave.

Journaling for Therapy #2

What is a mistake often made about me?

People tend to assume that I am happy. I smile, I joke, I laugh. But inside, where it counts, I'm not always happy.

What I am is a scared little girl trapped in a cage being poked, prodded, and molested by Doubt, Fear, and Worry; being fed Anger and Resentment, and given only Lies to quench her thirst. I am so very far from happy.

Gah!

Gah! Why "Gah"? Because, just GAH!

Many people don't understand how I fight daily to make everything make sense to others. The way my mind works isn't normal. I know this already. So I'm going to do something I normally fight to keep from doing. I'm going to start typing about nothing at all, and just let my mind go free. Why? Because I want people to understand that I am NOT normal. I want someone, somewhere, to go "hey, she's not normal." I want to know why I'm not normal. I want to know why I work the way I dod. I want to know why I add in extra words when they dont need to be added in. i want to know why I sub add and subtract letters mid sentence med word. I want to know I come so fragmented so often. I want to know why my family lied and witheld information from me for so long. I want to know what is really wrog with me. In school, I would scream in frustration for what the teachers and students claimed was no reason at all. I had a reason. They were pissing me off and I felt so trapped and hopeless that the only way I could keep breathing was to scream bloody muder hooror flick screams.

I don't understand why it was so hard for me to read at first. I don't understand why, after I figured out the words meant pictures, I figured it out so quickly and read and understood so well. I was tested on the CAT test in school and had a college level understanding by 3rd grade. Almost all my scores were college level by 6th. I understood it all, but not because I knew it. I knew how to trick the test. I trick tests all the time. Those little quizzes on facebook are a joke, so easy to trick. And the test when i tried to get tanaf was almost as easy. But apparently I retained more highschool knowledge than a person my age normally would have. and I felt like apologizing for it! I am constantly ashamed to know what I know and how I know. I am ashamed of my body, I am ashamed of my mingd I am ashamed of me all around. I am a disgusting human being. I have been raped, beaten, blodied, and laughed at. And not once, and not just one person, but several times several people and it hurts as much today as it did then because I can still see it clearly. Every noght in my dreams in full color. I see it, I feel it, I hear it taste it smell it.

I hide behind fear. I keep to myself and hide behind all my fears. I don't say even an 8th of what I think. I think, all the time. It never stops, even when I sleep. I can't shower because i can't stand the sight of me without clothing. I stink because I can't wear deodorant because I have cysts under my arms and deodorant makes them worse. It is spring and getting hot and I stink beause I hate showering because I hate seeing myself because i am ugly and the doctor even said I was morbidly obese. that means horribly fat. disgustingly fat. so fat it is morbid. I am ugly, and I hear 50 people telling me constantly. Hear them, loud and clear. I hear dad yelling at me to clean the glass off the floor after I dropped the glass bottle of orange juice and froze because i was scared her was going to yell at me angain.


It keeps going, folks, but I've said too much already. Enjoy a few moments in my brain. Misspellings, bad grammar and punctuation and all. This is the real, uncensored me.

~Kat