Days Like This Dripping With Suspicion! 0_o
Confessional - Rocky Relationship - The Effect Schizophrenia & Mortality Has on Us - People Who Have Love(d) Fiercely - Arseholes are the order of the day - Stress of Potential Death. [22.11.24]
ENTRANCE SONG:
22 November 2024
Hello Stranger!
It’s been a while as always, you probably forgot all about me!?
“Chasey, It’s NOT All About YOU..!”
Something I hear a lot OF every single time I try to relate to the conversation at hand. Every time I am asked what I think about something. I always get shouted at. I get shouted at for not controlling my paranoia under the circumstances that I could have colon cancer. I have medical updates which I will be writing about next week for JustClingingOn - (The Original Publication) once I have completed all immediately necessary procedures. I wrote to you briefly about ‘cancer not being able to cancel my crazy’.
"Cancer Won't Cancel My Crazy"
If you like your newsletters without politics or preconceptions or seeking a break from the norm you may have just found your new hangout
I stand to that. Today’s ‘Paranoia’:
wet patch on bed when I came home from the hospital
- (“the dog did it licking her teddy bear”)
one tiny smudge of foundation (make up) on the duvet
- (“mud off the dog’s paw, or food he ate 3 days ago!”)
constantly going in the bathroom on his phone for ages
- (“meat shits from the diet!”)
no mention of shagging me, no affection, dirty looks
- (“stress from what’s going on with you darling!”)
[yawns…]
I can’t be arsed covering all this bullshit.
Confessional:
I mean, I haven’t been diagnosed with cancer at the time of writing. I just feel like my mental illness is being enhanced and aggravated by the stressful, worrying, still toxic unhealthy environment. It’s a difficult situation for any person to be in. Throw a paranoid schizophrenic into the mix, alongside an angry man who is trying to quit daily binge drinking, cocaine (that goes for the pair of us), and changing his diet to carnivore - off his own back, is his way of ‘helping me’ and in the long run, it really does make a difference to my life. He still makes out to his family that he is taking care of me. He isn’t. In a nutshell he used my recent medical condition as another excuse to drink excessively, kick off horrendously and be a proper cunt to me, after all - it’s a whole lot of pressure on him to deal with.
The girlfriend he hates (that’s me I’m talking about) is now possibly going to die a lot quicker, leaving him her money, her dog (and his but I love her the most) and signing over her fucking beloved little ‘squat’ of a shit hole house that he’s been after taking from her since day one! The only motivation he is banging on about that has inspired him to get back in the gym, curb the drinking, go back on the diet; is because and these are his words; “when you die I need to be in better shape both mentally and physically”. Dead right you do mate. Otherwise, you’ll only end up with another sad, fucked up woman on disability benefits to fleece in the future. No right minded woman would even entertain an arsehole like that! I’m struggling to love him now.
my eye has been wiped and I can see the truth behind his facade, his actual fucking hate and contempt towards me.
Rocky Relationship:
When he is angry at me because of something I’ve have said in general, or the insight that was given to him by way of response to his questioning me wasn’t acceptable, when asked for my opinion I might have said something too grating or too close to the truth or probably too ridiculous, I admit I do say stupid shit sometimes, my way of thinking is not logical or rational but the things he is questioning me about don’t call for logic or rationality. He struggles with emotional topics, so asks me but even when he asks me for my input into what is bothering him - and I answer from the bottom of my bloody heart. I am again reminded, nothing is about me. All I do is try to relate, consider how I might process what it is he is finding difficult and try to give him ideas or suggestions. I never say - you must do the same as me. Most of the time I have more of a clue about things than him.
It’s quite worrying because he (my partner) is not the first dickhead to say that to me. The Muse has often said the same but in a different context. In my opinion they are both selfish, insular, fucking arrogant, egotistical narcissists anyway. I seem to be attracted to the exact opposite people to be.
I believe that I am or have been a few of those things myself. Even the word ‘insular’ came at me from my late Dad as an opinion he’d formed about me. His observations of me caused him to think that I was a hedonistic bitch. His words not mine. I remember my Dad slurring those words at me (he wasn’t drunk, he had the same slight lisp (or chubby bottom lip) the same as I have. He slurred: “You’re so fucking Inssuuuulllllllllar!” and I will never forget.
They say that your Shadow Self is the parts of you which you’ve rejected. I believe that is true. I’ve heard that if you get angry, offended, disgusted about someone else’s behaviours, actions, opinions, views and other things; it’s because those things mirror the side of you that you have abandoned and can’t accept. Guess what…. I am making this all about me again, and I just caught myself. You know what? If its not about me EVER, then who the fuck is it about? It’s always about the other person.
Why am I being singled out? It can be about everyone just not me?!
The Effect Schizophrenic & Mortality Has On Us:
I get it though. I understand that they might think I am concerning myself with my perspective (which is all I think anyone has in their toolkit, we can’t all step outside the box when we form a thought or opinion - who does? Who would say “hold on a minute what would Krusty the fucking Clown say about this?”). I wish I could be that person who tells people exactly what they want to hear, or call on the Stoic Gods and respond in the tone of Marcus Aurelius!
I struggle with talking at the best of times, I hate it when I hear people talking about shit they know fuck all about - so, I won’t ever talk about something that I have no experience or knowledge about. I draw on emotions and feelings - and as we all know, I shouldn’t rely on mine because I am ‘a fucked up schizophrenic who hears voices that aren’t real and covers up holes in the walls with toothpaste because cameras are watching everything**’
“I have schizophrenia. That doesn’t mean I am schizophrenia. I am not my mental illness. My mental illness is a part of me” – Jonathan Harnisch
Things like this get said when people have no better way of rejecting me and my response to their enquiry. Then they get on the phone later that day and repeat me word-for-word to other people as if it’s their own opinion. Then I hear him take great credit for MY wise words (as they must have gone down nicely with whoever he was relaying them to) even when he delivered them in a dry diluted half-fucked version, nowhere as accurate as everything I had told him. YET.. he fucking reprimanded me for saying those things in the first place! It’s mad. That’s why I feel a little validated and hard-done-by. I admit that some of the way I have written this out to you has been the angry side of me. Deep down I dislike myself for saying harsh statements about what goes on at home. It’s just the way I process things and document life.
Two People Who Have Love(d) Fiercely:
I wish I could just say, “I do love him still regardless of everything” I still WANT to love him, I don’t wish any harm or malice towards him, I know that if I didn’t love him I wouldn’t be bothered or traumatised the way I am when I get those flashbacks.
Arseholes Are The Order Of The Day.
The times he has cheated. Once while I was being held ‘captive’in the next room, by the girl’s mate who decided to plonk her arse on my knee so I couldn’t get up to see what was happening in the kitchen between him and that slag. When I did get in there the floor was soaking wet, apparently some beer had leaked from the box! How shit is that for an explanation.
I’d even heard the horrible little dumpling looking pancake faced cunt of a bitch fucking scream. I know what he did to her. It happens with me, or used to happen. We don’t fuck good any more. What he did didn’t involve his cock - trust me. I hate him for putting me through that shit.
The flashback came again today as I spilt water on my own kitchen floor. After that I just wanted to be away from him. Tried to remove myself from his company, he kicked off because I wouldn’t sit with him and he could see the paranoid look on my face.
If I didn’t love him I would be over this shit and kicking him out the door. He refused to leave and is, of course, waiting for me to croak it, so even less chance of him slipping out the back door now!! (pun intended sort of)
I wish I could trust him, if I trusted him LOVE would mean much more than what it does right now.
Do I respect him?
Fuck NO!
Do I love him?
More than I love myself apparently.
Do I trust him?
NO.
Will I ever love him like I used to?
Hmm…probably not??
I think I’ve said all that I can muster.
I’m being a bit juvenile here. Complaining about these small niggling conversations. I am more concerned with working on myself now. How to improve and change rather than continue and defend my way of doing things. I am more mature than I sound right now.
**I don’t hear voices any more, haven’t had those experiences since 2011, but that stuff did happen to me back when I wasn’t correctly medicated, when I was delusion and psychotic. A few days before my second near death experience where I tried to kill myself and ended up back on life supports Machines. Just two weeks after coming out of a coma on life support for my fist attempt to end it all. Which he knows the ins and outs of like a cats arsehole, the thing is he thinks its all a big joke. I should be ashamed of myself for such behaviours. So it’s easy for him to mock me in this way. Those memories of me, to me, are painful.
Stress Of Potential Death:
If he is really quite upset that I might be dying, then why when I try to comfort him does he still tell me it’s not about me? - surely this health scare/crisis is about me? Even, if my life is not all about me, I believe my morality is about me? and, if it isn’t it fucking should be!
I don’t know why I bother standing up for myself, I am told to shut up it’s not about me.
I kind of feel perplexed in those moments. At first, I agreed and thought, well maybe my opinion is just not what they wanted to hear seen as though they did ask me what I thought.
I have always formed my opinions based on my own experiences, it might have something to do with the little to no education, it might be related to my mental illness (paranoid schizophrenia), it might have something more to do with my complex trauma issue and low self esteem.
I choose to draw and form my answers and opinions based on what I know, or have felt, rather than just what I think. The problem is I do think about these things too. I overthink and analyse hard before I give my ‘two pence worth’ - or whatever that saying is!
Final thoughts:
…well this was nice and pleasant wasn’t it? LOL
Sorry, Please follow me for more examples of how NOT to live and die, things you should NOT write in public newsletters! for further updates on the medical, mental and unhappy ‘matrimony’ misadventures, miserable-happenings, MUSIC and other FUN stuff.
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Many Kind REGARDS
& Thanks for joining me through all this dickhead-business. Thank you for helping me express myself to you. This is always going to be a free publication, I write for enjoyment but also for an audience. I wish I could say, I write to ‘help’ others. I wish I could help others; truth being, I can’t even help myself! Maybe with your readership, sharing, showing me you were here with a heart - maybe together we can get through this just as we are.x
Yours LOVE(ingly),
CHASEY DELANEY, (22.11.24)..X
