Disposable me

I have periods when I cannot sleep.  I am tired, exhausted, but when I lay down to sleep, it eludes me.  I end up tossing and turning.  My head has a quiet buzz that drives me fucking crazy.

I have had this problem as long as I can remember.  I will go weeks and have no problem sleeping...then BOOM, I am awake and can't sleep.  When this happens, my body gets wonky.  I get real shakey, my head hurts worse, my eyes are gritty, I become real tearful...and the more I do to try and fall asleep, the faster sleep runs away from me.  The more tired my body gets, the harder for me to fall asleep.

Why is this?  Is this an alter day?  I know yesterday was a bad day, as I was told my alter was out most of the morning...my advocate seems to think his son is a "trigger" for me.  He is triggering my self-doubt, my insecurities (he is blood family, I am not...he comes first above all else) if my advocate had to choose his boy over me, it would be a no brainer and I would lose.  Of course, I would expect nothing less.  But its that fear that I am expendable that fucks with me.  I have always been expendable.

My husband picked his job and his god over me.  My kids picked their dad over me,  my friends picked my husband.  My family picked my husband.  When things got hard and difficult for me, they all threw me to the fucking curb.  I am expendable.  I have always been the throw away kid, and now I am the throw away adult.  I am only good to serve a purpose, and when that purpose is no longer wanted or needed or something better comes along, I am disposed of.

I was a disposable child, now a disposable adult.  Really though, why would I think that I am important?  Why would anyone think I am important.  As a wife, I served my husband and kids, cooking cleaning, keeping the house, being a taxi service, doing all the "wifely" things.  Then when my head started changing, I was suddenly not important anymore.  In Virginia, as a submissive, I do the same damn thing.  Cooking, cleaning, running errands, I do fucking "wifely" things to serve my Sir.  When he gets tired of me, I will become disposable too.  

My alters even are disposable...since they are really just a figment of my mind...my mentally sick mind... they do and say things that shove people away.  They know rejection, they know all about being disposable.   They know what the end is.....insomnia and madness.

S