Stubborn Denial Does Not Help You: Denial is Not Just A River in Africa

Frank talk about denial complexes begins now. You cannot spend your life denying things like the pandemic or mental illness.  Or for that matter, various certain specific talents that remain useful when you get a transpersonal approach going on it.  Yes, that is the type of therapist useful to someone with various mental talents such as yours, or mine for that matter, gee, who gave it to me? Denying things does  not make it go away.  It makes it worse. It permeates your entire mental sphere.  No matter how much I try to get you to face your demons, you don’t bother.  Now that really is wasting my time, my healing energy, and my good will.

I’m waiting for your bad karma for letting me exist with an untreated heart condition of PDA that eventually healed on its own, to catch up with you.  You linger. You do not want to treat your untreated mental illnesses. For that you deserve pity, you are an object of pity towards other people. See, mr. hernia makes me have dizzy fits.  I get woozy for no good reason.  I could even faint from the pain on my long walk to the Apple store today on 12/16/20.  

You cause yourself enormous pain not being on medication. You think you can outrun this by always looking okay.  When do you ever have suicidal thoughts? Every mentally ill person gets those. My god your denial complex is annoying.  It takes two to tango, darling.  You not taking medication does not do you any favors. To think I have visions of timelines where you do not get help at all.  You die without getting help for anything without uttering a single word of complaint.  I get pissed off at this vision.

Am I ever angry with you for not taking medication or quitting alcohol? I did these things on my own and you gave me a hard time for this.  Denying your psychological health issues is not useful.  Nor is denying the fact you are in an abusive relationship.  You think you do not deserve any better.  I’m up the creek here, without a financial paddle.  You keep digging my grave financially by making me spend all my money on the equivalency of paying the rent.  I’m sick to death of using all my SSI on this.

I will not be so easily kicked around when I make real money, since it is a matter of when I will make real money that will actually happen eventually.  Miser. You are greedy and refuse me stable income.  I will eventually sleep the whole night, and then my exhausted energy will not be useful food for you to keep yourself together with. I can now take it back from you even as you siphon my energy from me daily and I let you.  The question is why do I codependently let you?  I let you do a lot to me, including manipulate me out of my hard earned dollar.  I’m sick to death of allowing this stuff. I’m also tired of your ill will, which you in a crafty way, deny.  You also need therapy, which you deprive yourself of.  I push my way through intense pain all the time.  You don’t have half the pain I feel, which you are amplifying, making worse to make yourself feel good.

I have ways of dealing with this nonsense though.  Ways of shielding myself, seeing as I have a whole psychic shield book in my head under another identity I keep separate from this one. Anyway, that book will come out but you won’t know about it because I’m keeping it secret.  You wouldn’t be able to figure out my name if you tried, so I’ll give you a hint, a biblical character that comes back from the dead, not a main character.

You poor thing for not having gone to school.  I keep you blocked on What’s App, and you have no idea I do this on purpose. You thought it was the wind interfering with your phone call, seeing as you seem to feel you can call me any time you like.  I can’t wait to cut you off for life, to refuse to speak to you ever again. Oh yes, that will be fun.  You have given me lifetimes of grief, for nothing. For something as controllable as type 1 diabetes had it been caught early. Or even hypothyroidism which could have been treated properly in high school but you didn’t lead the doctors to it and I couldn’t research it either. Did you enjoy depriving someone as information-centric as I am, knowledge?  I’m sick to death of you causing me stress from having untreated mental illness.

Denying you need medication does not endear you to people who see your symptoms and wonder why the frak is she not on meds.  When you say loopy things that make no sense, you do not see people looking at their shoes, or the table, anything to not make eye contact.  Someday you will be exposed. I’m appalled you still are not taking medication, as a rapid cycling bipolar.  Why?  Why do you subject yourself to stigma, pretending it is like the wind, something you do not notice?

I’m hopping mad from Tuesday, having to call you.  I have also realized that my weekend sleeplessness is a side effect of services not being open.  I feel scared of having an emergency but see I know how to prevent that by taking my medication. I managed to stay consistent despite not having a diagnosis of schizoaffective until 28. This was a scenario you interfered with me getting to that point.  But I managed to suck it up, see a shrink, and stand up for my right to become stable.  This was a right you love to take away.  Why do you mean me so much harm Munchausen by Proxy? I’m not being specific as to who this is, to keep people guessing.

Now that I am truly stable, coming into contact with your energy is like my kryptonite.   Again, why do you do this to me? Pick fights, deny stuff, not give me information, lying by omission. What was my blood sugar at type 1 diabetes diagnosis? Hmm? What was it? It was something. You never say it even if I ask you. How would you hold up with me asking questions? Hard questions since you never told me about schizophrenia until I hit 18, and that is all that is wrong with me. Letting the other one do mean things to me. Not that you ever read my work.