A Non-existent Person

[Powder]

Meadowsweet,

Your posts and replies have meant a lot to me over the years I have been on the forum. You matter to me, and probably others here. I admire your determination, and that you have managed to be such a great mom to your kids. I love moms who take their suffering and turn it into their child's blessing. You are a miracle worker, too, then. To me, that is the greatest achievement.
“A heart is not measured by how much you love but how much you are loved by others.”

― Wizard of Oz

While this quote does not apply in every case, I think you can take comfort that it is talking about you. :)

 

[Meadowsweet]

The cloud has lifted a bit today, and I wanted to say thank you to the people who replied here.

No miracles have happened, I still don't know what I'm going to do with the life the way it is, but it's like an internal decision is made to keep on a bit more.

 

[Tinyflame]

@Meadowsweet ,I heard a sweet story today about a guy with ptsd who was very suicidal, he got a rescued german shepherd dog with the intention of using him as a therapy dog. The man had a life-threatening seizure, & the dog got his phone out of his pocket, pressed it on the floor with his paw & bit it with his teeth (the phone is toast, lol), & called 911 ten times before they came to his house (they thought it was a prank). Then the dog led them to him in the backyard. He survived & says "life is now worth living & he knows where he fits, things were just incredibly hard before". Before that he said he didn't feel like there was a place for him, & before him the dog had no future.

I am glad you are feeling a bit better. :) Whatever good is on the horizon may be something unconventional & unimaginable. :hug:

 

[Meadowsweet]

I wrote this poem years ago, when I was feeling similar to how I was when I wrote this post - like there was just nothing to keep going for and I was just an irritation to other people. It's my kick up the ass and keep going poem, for when I'm feeling this way. It's my way of expressing feelings, and I just wanted to share it in appreciation of the people here who bother enough to offer advice and support.

Give me some peace;
Let me not care.
I'd welcome death,
if just for the rest.
But when I wake will life still be there?
just one more peek,
just one more step,
I don't know what's round the corner yet.
But I'm toooo tired,
oh let me sit down.
Give me a blanket
to wrap around.
Let the night come with its dark and its cold,
let it rest my eyes,
numb the feelings inside.
My head's pounding,
my eyes are wet,
give me a soft bed
of cottonwool to rest.
Let me fall into that empty sleep,
let me drift
into unconciousness deep.
My body aches.
My feet are hurting.
Give me a drug;
close the curtain.
Let me rest my head on the road below,
give me a dream
in which to go.
Give me some peace;
let me not care.
I'd welcome death,
if just for the rest.
But when I wake will life still be there?
Just one more peek,
just one more step,
I don't know what's round the corner yet.

Should you give me my peace?
Should you not care?
Would you welcome me dead,
If just for the rest?
Would you wake me in the morning
and give me a hand?
Would you let me go to fall or stand?
Would you offer me hope to take the step...
that I may walk round the corner yet?

 

[shell]

For so long I belived I didn't matter, that I would never connect with anyone, that I didn't belong anywhere in this world, that I was defective and damaged. I believed like you that I needed to live for my son, I had no purpose to live other than that, but he kept me hanging on, and that was all that mattered, because if I hadn't I wouldn't have been here to know that life can be better than I could ever have imagined.

I was so busy putting up the wall to keep others out, and keep me safe, that no could be there to care or support me. I see now there are safe caring people out there, and they were there all the time, I was too busy judging them, before they even got close, and would shut them out.

It's only now I am starting to notice the difference, as I change my beliefs, small changes that make me feel more connected, are letting me out of my self imposed prison.

 

[Meadowsweet]

That is an inspiration shell, thanks for sharing.

 

[Tinyflame]

Aw @Meadowsweet , you are very sweet. :hug:

 

[Jaggered]

Hi, this is my first visit to this site and I'm so glad to have found this thread. I'm going through some terrible feelings lately where I feel like I don't exist, that the world would be exactly the same whether or not I was around. I'm a 39 year-old woman with PTSD; I'm single and childless and I have no one in my life - no friends - interested in who I am, how I'm feeling. In fact, no one ever wants to get to know me unless they want something from me.

I'm fairly attractive and kind, and I'm no more annoying than the next person etc., but I go un-noticed. Sometimes after I've been out in public I start thinking about how alone and insignificant I am and I start to panic and cry. This is not just a feeling, it's a fact.

My brother and I were raised to believe that we were worthless, irrelevant, and unworthy of existing or having anyone care about us. Years later it seems I have created a life where I am still all these things.

I was recently "officially" diagnosed with fibromyalgia (add this to PTSD w/ dissociation and other medical issues), I'm in pain a lot of the time and no one cares. My 40th birthday next month will probably be spent alone. I'm not suicidal but I'm really having trouble understanding the point of living, and I can't stand to watch myself go through this (a little depersonalization there). I swear if someone came to me and told me that I was in fact dead and roaming the world as a ghost, I'd probably believe them! It would make more sense and perhaps I'd be relieved.

I appreciate this thread to know that these feelings are somewhat common. Thanks.

 

[Changing4Best]

Thankfully, as far as I know, my 2 abusers are either dead or close to it. One is dead for sure, and I have seen his gravestone. On it, it says, "Te good Die Young" with his birthday year and the year that he died. These just happen to say that he died at the age of 102! I guess he might have been scared about where he would end up when he died, so scared in fact that he held on for all that extra time!

My other abuser was an alcoholic drug addict and his liver was badly failing, one of the last times I saw him, which was in 2006 or so. How long someone can survive with that kind of liver troubles I do not know, but I am sure that to live that way must be painful at least.

I once felt useless, but these days I know that I am God's priceless treasure and that I can and do help and love others as well as loving God too, of course. When I volunteer to help folks, it helps me to feel needed and I love feeling needed.