Enough

3.30.11

I used to be ok. I was doing well. I was like 85 percent better. It was not all good, but I was doing a whole lot better. What happened? Why is this happening again? Can’t I just get a little time before this happens again? Why do I feel like this again? It is not fair. Is the medicine not working anymore? Will it get better? Is it something inside of me that I need to work out? I don’t know. I am so confused. It is so awful. I can’t stand this. I don’t know what to do. I hate this.

 

God, why? Did you just give me a miracle and then take it away just as I was actually realizing what you had done for me? I was finally able to look back and see what happened. I was progressing. I was overcoming what happened. I felt better. Was this just some tease that you dangled in front of me? Just to show me what it was like to be myself again and be normal? And then boom, back into the depths again. I haven’t done anything to deserve this. I haven’t done anything different. I was just minding my own business, humming along and then it came again. It is here again. Stop it, stop it, stop it. You are not welcome here. Don’t come back for me. Don’t come back at all. Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are? Leave me be, set me free. Stop doing this to me. I don’t want you here. Remember when I wanted you? When I liked being sick? Well, I’ve changed. I have felt what it was like to be better and it was good. I can’t go back there again.

 

Why have you let him win again, God? Why did you let him back in? Please come back for me? Don’t leave again. I know I haven’t been close to you. But you promised you would never leave me. Why have you left me again? Stop it. I can’t take it anymore.

 

I feel awful. I feel angry at you and him and everybody and everything. I don’t want to talk to anyone or be around any one. I just want to hide. I want to be asleep. I don’t want to be here anymore. This is so frustrating to feel like this again. What did I do? Tell me. I will fix it. Just fix me again. Make me better. Why?

 

I am angry. I am so angry. This is a new emotion for me. I’m angry that I am still here…that I am back here. Who gets to decide that it is time for me to get dropped in the hole again? I didn’t want this. I was doing fine. I was getting good at keeping my mind above the line. Now the line is gone. Now the dark side has free reign over my body and mind again. Stop it, stop it, stop it.

 

I’m angry that I’m angry. I’m angry that I am feeling like this. I am angry at people at work for how unfair it all is. I am angry at B for getting to do whatever she wants and gets promoted and gets to have whatever chair she wants to have just because she is who she is. She gets special treatment because she stands around and talks all the time. She acts like she is this perfect little worker and everyone but B can see that she is not. She is one of the worst violators of lazy, good for nothing work ethic there is. It is not fair. Why is it that we are always the ones who have to do everything? Why is it always our job? Why, when I kill myself working and doing everything I can, still am asked to do more, be more. It is never enough. Do you know how I hard I try to become what you want me to be? Why is it never enough? I do everything, everything I can, and more and still it is not enough. It is never enough. I give my all. There is nothing more to give. Take me, this is all that got, this is all that I’m not, all that I’ll ever be.

 

 

Do you know how hard I try to become what you want me to be?

 

I’ve never been enough. No one has ever said that is enough. There is always more to do. There is always something that is missing with me. No one has ever accepted me how I am.

 

I don’t really remember a lot of how my mom treated me as a child. I do remember that I would try my hardest to go to sleep and I never could. And then she would come into my room and see that I wasn’t asleep and she would get mad. I would get spanked because I couldn’t go to sleep. I would try and do my best to clean up and do what she said, but it was never enough. I never felt like she loved me for just me. I never felt accepted by her. She always wanted me to be more, to be her. She thought something was wrong with me. Why didn’t I want to play with other kids on the playground? Why did I always want to stay by her side when I went places? Why did I not socialize like the other kids? I thought something was wrong with me. She put my in therapy in the fourth grade because I couldn’t socialize well. I don’t socialize well now. I still like to stick by my mom. I have friends and I am better than I used to be, but I don’t like going out all the time and spending time with people. I like to be alone. I have always liked to be alone. And I was never accepted because I was like that. My mom thought something was wrong with me because I wasn’t like her.

 

Even in high school I was singled out because I was different. Again, I was never accepted for who I was. I was made fun of for who I was. I sat in the hall and ate my lunch. I was made fun of. I professed my love of the Mickey Mouse Club and I was made fun of. I cried at the end of Our Town and I was made fun of. I can remember writing a journal entry about it in the 11th grade. I was always made fun of or criticized for who I was. 

 

I wasn’t accepted in school. I constantly was trying to do more, trying to be more like other kids. I was always crying when my school work didn’t turn out like other kids. I cried when I got a bad grade. I would try and try and try and it was never enough. I don’t know whether my mom put that pressure on me or I did. All I know is that it was never enough, not for me, not for anybody. I would do something and someone would come behind me and tell me that I needed to do more. It still wasn’t right. I needed to try harder.

 

I can remember when I on the college newspaper. I would work and work on my page and then would take it to Stephanie and she was never say it was good, never say it was enough. There is always something more that I could do. It wasn’t enough. It was 4 in the morning and I had been working all night on it and it still was not enough.

 

Why does nobody notice? Why does nobody care? Do you know how hard I try to become what you want me to be? No one sees my efforts. No one notices when I go above and beyond what is asked of me. They just always say it is not enough. You aren’t good enough. It is not right. Fix it. Do it again. You are not doing your job. Write better. Do better. Do more. You aren’t giving it your all. You aren’t giving 110 percent. I worry you aren’t doing this with enough enthusiasm. Be happier. Be more social. Be a different person. You aren’t good enough the way you are. You write too youthful. I’m sorry I’m am a youth! How can I change my age?

 

S was way damaging. I could never give them enough. I did all that I could. All that I knew and I still wasn’t giving enough enthusiasm or doing it exactly right. I could not stop getting criticized for doing my job. For doing what I thought I should be doing. But apparently I wasn’t doing it with enough enthusiasm and I didn’t act like I cared enough. I didn’t smile enough. I didn’t seem happy. I couldn’t read their minds. They couldn’t tell me what they wanted, all they knew is that I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t doing enough. Try harder. Give more. Do more.

 

Do you know how hard I try to become what you want me to be?

 

They laid out all my mistakes in front of me. They basically forced me to quit. They did it in the nicest possible way. Stabbing me in the back all the while keeping their pristine views of themselves.

 

I hate people and places that claim to be the best, the most Christian place, the best place to work, the highest above all. Because they expect you to live up to those high expectations. And you will never be enough to satisfy them. There are some people who do live up, who do fit in. They are accepted. They are in the little clique. They can never do wrong. Everything they do it perfect. And they just look at you poorly and think oh poor Stephanie just isn’t enough. She just can’t cut it here. She is not right for this organization. But aren’t we awesome. We aren’t guilty in the least. We tried out best to work with her and coach her to be her best, but she just wasn’t good enough. It is not our fault. It is never our fault. We did everything we could. You are the weakest link, goodbye.

 

I mean, is it just me? Why do I always end up at these places that treat me like crap? That make me feel like less of a person. Do I just attract these types of jobs? Is it me? I know I am predisposed to feel like this, I know my core belief is im not good enough. But why is it that everything in my life and everyone in my life has to tell me that too. I don’t need your help making me feel like crap. I don’t need you to tell me that I am not good enough. I don’t need you to make me feel less of a person. I do that quite nicely on my own.

 

And there is mom. That link between my childhood and what is today. I still feel like I am never enough for her. I complain too much. I need to be more positive. I need to have a better attitude. I need to contribute to the household chores because I live here and I need to be do more around the house. I need to offer to pay when we go out to eat. I should feel privileged that I have all of this. I need to do more. Even though I have been doing it all along and yet no one has noticed so they just feel the need to tell me to do it again, and do more and be better just so they can feel like they are doing their job. Even though I tell them that I have been doing it all along, they still look at the one thing that I haven’t done, or the speck of dust that has landed between now and the time we have been talking and still say that I am not doing enough.

 

And mom says she doesn’t do it anymore. She says that that was her mistakes in the past. She still does it. She doesn’t know it. She still knows how to make me do things. She knows how to play my sympathy card and my guilty card. Get me a coke, iron my shirt, fix me iced tea, do the dishes, find my phone. I can’t find my earring. It sure would be nice if someone would help me give Phoebe and Rose a bath. And she does it in this nice way like I can say no if I want to but then she gets mad and tell me that I am not doing enough and that I am not responsible enough if I don’t do what she wants me to do. I do all kinds of things for her. And she just acts like I don’t do anything. She acts like if I don’t do one thing for her that I don’t love her or that I don’t care or that I am mean or selfish or that I am not enough. Gosh, she is so manipulative. That is why I feel like I have to do everything she asks of me. That is why I feel like I can’t say no to her. And she knows that. And she uses it. She is perpetuating this belief that I have of myself that I am not good enough.

 

 I need to be thinner. I don’t need to eat that. I need to push harder when I work out. I am never enough for myself.   

 

I need to make my reminder call faster than Sandra. I need to find phone messages, I need to find that chart…even though I have looked and looked and looked and done all that I possibly can, it is still never enough.

I guess that is why I feel so depressed and angry and don't want to be around anyone. I mean what is the point in all of this. What is the point of doing anything or talking to anyone. It will never be enough. It has never been enough. It is just so tiring to do this and try this hard and still it never be enough. At some point I just give up. I fall apart. I collapse. No wonder I want to kill myself. I'm sick of doing this. And it never ends. That is life. Well I don't want to live if that is life. 

I'm just sick of getting beaten down. I just want to hide from anything and everything that makes me feel that way. I can't take anymore. 

I know I should feel enough for god. But I don't. I always feel there should be more that I should be doing. That is why I have stopped praying and stopped reading my bible. I never feel like it is enough. And I know that is not the point, but it is to me. 

And don't even get me started on Nathan. He never accepted me as I was. 

And it is very telling that in my dreams that I am not some different person. I'm not more confident or have a different personality. I may be skinner and have a better wardrobe, but I am always me. And I am not only accepted, but celebrated and loved for who I am. 

Can someone just say I notice your hard work? Or not even that. Just ok. That is enough. You are enough.