listen. to the song here in my heart

i had a dream last night. its still vivid. i say it was a dream. it was a nightmare. an actual nightmare. i was fighting with my sister. fighting and fighting and fighting.

we were at my old house for some reason. i fought with my mother about how she refuses to love me as a daughter. how she doesnt care about me. how my sister had taken something from me. something…what was that something?

i ran up to my room. i slammed the door shut. it was always a tricky door. it never shut properly. i banged on the top right corner to make it shut. the corner which had to be banged so that the door matched the frame. where the paint was too thick so it would stick.

ST was sitting at my old desk. looking at something. reading something. he wouldnt look at me. just sort of said something mumbled it about “whats wrong?”. i was sitting with my back to my door. my feet pressed against my bed. next thing i knew, wham, my sister was forcing her way in. shouting and screaming at me that i was stupid irresponsible. that i was a bad person. that i was selfish and rude. that i had to talk to her whether i liked it or not because i was just acting like a little brat.

she burst in, i shouted back. told her to fuck off. to get out of my room to stay away from me, that i had nothing to say to her. my mother was crying downstairs. shouting up telling me that she didnt love me any more. that i was a bad daughter.

i forced her out. ST never said anything. he just sat there.

i was frantically searching. my room had become a mess. my trinkets were on the floor knocked off their places. books were lying about. i was crying. searching for something. why couldnt i find it?

ST asked me what i was looking for. i didnt know. something was missing. my sister had coe in and shouted at me and taken something from my room. something from me.

i lifted an old stuffed toy, i cant remember which, underneath was a pile of scalpel blades still in their wrapper. the type ive been using for dissection. in the mind of the PM in the dream, i thought, what are those doing here? in my head i knew they would be the blades i would cut myself with after everyone was gone.

i was just searching. ST was just there. i was just looking for something that was missing. why couldnt i find it?

was it something physical? something she has taken? a bottle of nail polish, a small statue of an elephant…

or did the room represent me. was ST in my mind with me. was i trying to keep my sister out of my mind for fear she would take something from me..my confidence, my strength, my coping abilities?

i was just searching and searching for it. i couldnt find it. when will i find it again?

Searching may suggest that you are trying every possibility to solve some problem or situation in your life. E.g.

“I just cannot get over his death. I keep trying to get over all the grief but whatever I do nothing seems to succeed”[Dream symbol -searches everywhere ]

im not necessarily trying to get over a death. but perhaps the situation with my sister?

searching to solve a problem.

 

ST and i had a massive row last night. we went out for dinner and i ended up crying. he said some really horrible things to me. the kind of things that stopped him being a boyfriend and made him into my dad. my sister. my mum.

i feel a little trapped. i feel like im falling into that situation where i cant talk to anybody about anything without them assuming im attention seeking or the boy who cried wolf.

so once again, if im feeling hurt, i have to keep it to myself. once again, if something upsets me, im not allowed to show it. once again i have to be happy 24/7 just to keep everyone else happy.

why does everybody do that? im so tired of being told im weak and fragile and dont know anything about life. im so tired of being told i dont care about anyone but myself. so sick of being told im selfish and arrogant.

why cant i get upset when someone i love and care about says something that hurts me? why do i have to brush it off like it means nothing? how does that make me strong?

ive been told my whole life im too ambivalent and flippant about everything. that i dont react to anything. that im emotionless. cold and heartless. and now im not. now i feel everything. no one is ever happy.

i dont need someone to teach me how to be strong. i need someone to support me when i need to be strong. i dont need someone saying horrible hurtful things to me to toughen me up. i need someone to take the scissors out of my hand when i want to cut myself. i dont want someone to assume they can say what they want to me because they love me, i want someone to never say horrible things to me because they love me.

he told me i wasnt serious about medicine. that my parents were right about everything theyve ever said to me. that i dont accept my faults. that i take one thing and go on and on and on about it. that my diary was probably the cause of me being that way. he told me i take everything too seriously. that i wanted to cause a fight. that there is no such thing as a coping mechanism. that its easy to have one. he told me i was too fragile and didnt know anything about the real world. he told me i didnt know what it meant to struggle. that ive had everything in my life comfortable. that the only thing that lacked was love. he told me i didnt care about my parents. he told me i was just a child. and that i hadnt changed at all in the last 3 months. i was the girl he met 3 months ago. just a child.

he said all those things that everyone in my life has told me. he said all those things that have brought me to where i am today. he said all those things in one night. in 2 hours of dinner.

it was all those things that make me feel like a burden. that make me feel like i have no one to talk to. trapped.

why do i have to prove to everybody that i am serious about medicine?

how can i not accept my faults when its my faults im constantly trying to correct?

why wont anyone believe im trying to get better? why doesnt anyone believe me?

why does he hate me for having a diary? i try to talk to him about stuff in my head. but then he tells me i go on and on about stuff. so instead of burdening him with my problems, i have no one else to talk to. why is that wrong? why is it wrong that

i have only ever learnt to communicate my feelings through written word? cant he see how much im trying? cant he see that im desperately trying to open up, that im scared because every time i do, i hurt, and i cry, and he gets upset with me for crying? does he think i want to be like this? that i cant see how much im ruining his life? that i take so much from him. i wish he would just understand that i hate this. that i hate being me. that i loathe myself. and i wish desperately i could be a better person. that im trying to be a better person. i am. its just taking me time.

when will he understand what its like being my head? when everything i say feels like venom. where im so scared of being someone like my sister. when will he notice the scars of my leg and realise it was all i could do to save myself from myself?

how can i not know about the real world? and how its scary and manipulative? how can i not know what evil there lurks and how much of a struggle it is? everyone thinks im sitting here in my pretty clothes and nice flat in an expensive shiny bubble. that i dont know what it means to struggle.
ive been struggling with my career for the last 10 years. every exam i took that i failed and had to redo or work harder for just so i could do medicine. every timd i had to fight my parents to do medicine because they wanted me to work for them in the business. every oppurtunity for a good happy rich life i turned down so that i COULD go through the struggle. because i enjoy this struggle. because outside of everything else in my life it feels like the one thing i could succeed in. when will someone understand that whats going on with me isnt fair? that i didnt bring it upon myself. that its not fair the way i was treated over the last 10 years. that im trying to break that cycle where i get walked over by everyone and do everything for them.
i have been having to be everybodys strength for 10 years. i need to be strong for me too. why wont anyone let me be strong for me too?

how could he say i hadnt changed? he doesnt know how much ive changed. how the only reason i cry now is because i hurt him. how im forcing myself to open up about things which are affecting me. how ive felt myself get stronger, sometimes wonder if i can go home. doesnt he remember when i fought with my mother to keep him in my life? how i told her she was wrong and how i loved him and that she couldnt make me leave him for something as trivial as his career. doesnt he remember that? how being with him is giving me the strength to live again. how i feel like now, i finally have someone who relishes spending time with me. who chooses to spend time with me. who really loves me and wants me. and not because theyd be bored or lonely without me there, but because they enjoy me. does he know how much that means to me? how finally, i feel like i have a purpose on this earth. if only to keep him happy?

so why cant he just understand how it feels when he says he wont come over a certain day when he said he would. how it feels when he takes away that glimpse of feeling like i have a reason for living. why does he have to tell me that he doesnt like getting out of his bed, but finds it easy leaving mine? how it makes me feel like he suddenly doesnt want to spend time with me. that the fact he finds it easy to leave me makes me feel like ive lost that thing i had. that thing where i felt like someone wanted to be with me, because it meant being with ME.

maybe it is all attention seeking? i dont know.

i dont want a teacher or a trainer or toughlove. i just want a boyfriend. who will support me. who will hold my hand and tell me to not be silly when i have those doubts. i dont want someone to dismiss me and say “so what?” when i have doubts. i just need someone to tell me that thats all they are. doubts. and doubts can be silly, and that i dont need them.

i just want him to realise its not easy being in my head. and that i am constantly juggling my thoughts so i dont have to think them.

i have changed.
just take a long hard look at me and you’ll
see it in my eyes. my heart
beats a different rhythm. it tells me
im in love.