Picking up the slack

two women yellingAt 3 AM, she burst into my brain like a prizefighter after the first bell. She’s usually there every damn day, and I’d gotten used to her almost constant harangues about my faults and failures. Yesterday I managed to shove her out for a while. But, man, she was angry – who the hell do I think I am, posting a picture of my smiling face and giving the impression that I’ve got my shit together despite battling with bipolar disorder. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I had the audacity to actually think it was a pretty picture of myself.

She moved in shortly after I escaped from my domestic violence situation. In the absence of an abuser, the abused becomes adept at picking up the slack. Until I met another person who actually hears voices, I didn’t realize I did this to myself. I mean, come on, the things I tell myself…never would I say them to another person. Nobody deserves to be screamed at, torn down, belittled, discouraged, or beaten. So just stop, you might say. Sheri, you wouldn’t talk to anyone else like this, why not accord yourself the same respect? But I can tell you, after a lifetime of this crap it’s hard to fight back.

Somedays I think it’s too late for me, after decades of this I just can’t see it ending.

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4 thoughts on “Picking up the slack

  1. Thank you, acknowledgement means more to me than a pep talk. Maybe there isn’t an answer for people like us, maybe we learn to accept some days can be a little quieter than others.

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  2. I have the voices too. They whisper, they scream, they slip in when I’m not looking. My voice but the words are from the mouths/actions of others. Not fighting the marks left by one person. I try not to listen, but like you, it’s a daily battle.
    I want to make white noise in my head to drown them out.
    So here are some ((((((((((hugs))))))))))) because I understand. My voices come from that inner place that never really healed or moved on. I’m told to let go of the past, but it’s hard when it screams at me, or shows the films of the things I don’t want to think of.
    Guess this isn’t a pep talk — it’s an okay — they are there. How the hell do we shut them up?

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  3. hugs always here to talk if you want to, not just about mental illness either! I know I can’t wave a magic wand, but for me, just sharing and having someone say “oh god, me too!” can make it a little easier. Knowing I’m not alone.
    You’re not alone either. I know it’s hard, and bloody awful, and discouraging, and me knowing that doesn’t make it better, but maybe it makes you feel a little more ‘normal?’ I know for me when I join BPD Chat on Twitter I feel like “well yes, this is unfair and awful, but it’s my normal, and it’s normal for people like me, so maybe it’s ok.”
    You’re wonderful, and amazing, and so full of goodness, and I will continue to tell you that until, and indeed after, that voice shuts up!

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