I am ashamed to say that I messed up this weekend. Big time. As tends to happen when I’m home alone for a ‘long’ period of time (i.e. overnight or longer), my aloneness got the better of me. Despite the fact that I had been in complete control all week, as soon as I got home for that first evening alone, I almost immediately started crashing. Left to my own devices in a large creaky house with a fair amount of triggers, the urges starting creeping in until I succumbed to them.
On Friday night I got drunk and took a couple of pills – both target behaviours. On Saturday I stayed in bed all day, until the evening where I got drunk again and high off drugs stolen from someone else’s stash – yet more target behaviours. Bounded by paranoia and fear, I vowed to myself I would get back on track the next day. On Sunday I contacted my therapist and we put a plan in place. I hadn’t eaten anything from Friday lunchtime to Sunday lunchtime – another whopping target behaviour. I committed to my plan and to stop using substances in the way I had been, and went to stay at my Dad’s where I could be around and accountable to people.
From Friday and still until today, I have felt more self-destructive than I have in months. I have felt a need to punish myself, to destroy myself, and to isolate myself by pretending to everyone around me that I have been fine – when I have been the least fine I have been in weeks. It scares me how I can’t go even a night by myself, without resorting and getting trapped in that old cycle of self-destruction.
I have managed to maintain some control whilst being around people again, and after managing to consume some small amounts of food, there have been no other target behaviours.
The whole weekend has been a shock to my system. It has hit me, yet again, how reliant on other people I am. My sense of self is so fragile in how completely I lose myself when those I depend on are absent. I find it virtually impossible to be responsible “for myself” when there is no one around me. When I don’t feel obliged to turn up to life in order to appease other people’s concerns, I simply stop turning up for life – there is no one to prove myself to. It is as though when I am alone, life outside of me stops existing. In the absence of others nothing matters because I don’t exist any longer. No one has a clue, and I can do what I want, because I am not letting anyone (besides myself) down.
It makes me realise how the presence of others in my life is such a motivator to be effective, much more than doing so for myself – and how much that needs to change. I am so far from being the self-sufficient adult I hope to be one day. It feels so very far away and well beyond my reach.
I am 22 years old and yet I feel as young as 2 days and as old as 200 – either way, ironically, still in dire need of being looked after.