Freewrite to help with therapy - Lemmy.World

I’m struggling trying to stay sober. I’m no longer binging, and have abnegated fron harder substances. I just a bad day here n there with alcohol, and not to excess, but I am wasting money and generally not being as ideal as I can be. Yet, here and now where I can perhaps do some more to fix these problems, I am being mindful to analyze my thoughts as they percolate inside me. Everything lines up until it doesn’t. I always seem to gravitate towards making connections between what was said, what happened, and what I thought. But there’s definitely a conspiracy, not even crazy speak. The cops knocked on my door at 2:30am while I was sleeping. They said someone was yelling and sleeping. Replied sarcastically to me. Real sus. I don’t know what to think of that, the night before my court hearing. Were they scaring me? Was my neighbor fucking with me? I don’t know anything, but it makes me paranoid. Changes what reality looks like to me. Makes me think a predator is out there, lurking, waiting. Likewise, it changes how much hope I have. Makes me feel hopeless as the lyrics to songs change in my head. It all seems dire. Like, are the cops gunna come back? Am I going to be arrested on additional charges because lying bs? Leaves me feeling like who gives af. Nothing I do matters. Everything I do is wrong. I recognize these words. These are long-standing thought patterns in me. I have to change them to change myself. I wrote some. That is something. I can do more. I dreamed something actually happened in my life. Something meaningful, that I had a big impact on a lotta people. I have to learn to be content being someone special for the man I love. His love is everything; so warm and he makes me feel good about myself. But he hurts me with his lies. And he’s locked away in the psyche ward now. His mother is helping, and she is doing so much, yet she has a way of planting ideas to make me do what she wants. Forceful. In ways, good, but also not the support I need most. I need my life partner. He’s finally getting the help he needs in the psyche ward. I want him to be safe and live a good life. His way of going through life is dangerous and nonconstructive. That’s why I assaulted him; he made things so impossible I had to stand up to him and try to pull out of this tail spin. Then I lost my shit. He’s so skilled at manipulation, but he seems more like his old self now. He’s my rainbow. I miss him. And it hurts. And I want to drink. But I gotta be strong for him. I can’t do shit for myself. I need him so I can be my best. But it’s not good when he’s not here. I need to try to be stronger for myself. This involves noticing where and when I can make a change. I’ve been drawing. I do pictograms. Some people understand. Others think they’re dogshit. Can’t be ruled by other people. Can’t let these voices inside or outside determine what I do. I need to learn to be independent. I’m very dependent. Learned to be helpless at an early age, and now I’m still not good enough so my father throws me away. Bad thought pattern. Doing alright, I guess. At least I stopped drinking for a few minutes. Gotta highlight the victories so I feel good inside enough to stay strong.