Fuck you Google Ads

I have been discussing the breakup and my former relationship through emails on google mail, and when he admitted he’d thought about proposing to me, the next Google ad I got on the side of my screen was Tiffany’s engagement rings. Felt like a stab through my heart. Fuck you Google!

Fuck everything. Fuck people, fuck my therapist, fuck therapy, fuck the abuse, fuck my mental health issues and depression, fuck work, fuck having to wake up in the mornings.

I am hanging on the edge of sanity right about now and not sure which way it’ll go.

I am only at work because I have a conference call with a director to possibly give me a transfer/promotion, and that’s all I live for right now. I am going through a really really really rough patch in therapy where although I don’t talk about the abuse, it still is on my mind. It’s like I’m living that emergency-stage all over again, where all I can think about is the abuse – I feel in a haze, paralyzed, unable to live in this moment.

My mind is of that 5-year-old who just wants it all to end. She wants to be happy, and most of all, she wants the world to know about her pain.

But no one hears. No one hears because she is not saying it out loud. She hides her feelings and pain and words deep down inside her soul and puts on a brave face and keeps going.

My workmate commented I looked pale. I feel pale. I feel ill and like I’m outside my body. I am here but I’m not here. I have been crying at my desk and I don’t even care. Fuck caring what people think!!!

I have to try do what feels best for me at this moment in time – some big shit is coming out in therapy and every day I walk out crying and feeling these humongous emotions that feel too large to fit into my brain. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to shout and I want to punch people and go into a rage.

Instead, I wipe my eyes, put on my coat, and walk out to the bus stop to come to work.

I am a survivor. A survivor of the finest kind. The one who lives her life pretending to be something she is not. Pretending everything is OK.

I wish…I wish I could scream and shout and yell and go into a rage and let all the pain and tears and anger and rage and bitterness and jealousy out. I desperately want to feel that emotional exhaustion that you get when you have let it all out and there is nothing left to squeeze out.

Will I get a chance to do this before the therapy ends or am I going to finish with bits of these feelings and thoughts lingering on in my soul?



2 thoughts on “Fuck you Google Ads

  1. To feel better we must face the really shitty bits in our past, and I mean all of it. To be totally honest about the abuse, everything, it hurts, it hurts like hell. But it will get better.

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