Tag Archives: anxiety

At a loss

I feel rather lost, really depressed, confused… and I don’t know how to feel. People are turning on lifelong friends over misinformation and lies and differing opinions, as if people’s opinions somehow changed over night and they’ve suddenly become horrible people to avoid.

One friend, I don’t know what to think. She hasn’t really spoken to me in months now, I don’t know if I did something wrong or if there’s something going on in her life, but I know things have changed to where I’m not in her circle so much anymore. I can usually tell when someone’s attitude toward me has changed, I just can never figure out why. And right now I’m not sure whether I should pursue it, if she’d even tell me, or if I should just accept that this is how I am.

I can never really keep friends. The most they last is 2-3 years before leaving me. I have one friend who has stayed true for 16+ years now, he’s not going anywhere, aside from dying… Another person I guess is sort of a friend? We’ve known each other for about 14 years, though we don’t always agree on politics and it’s gotten a little… tense, I guess, between us with all the stuff going on.

I rely on facts, evidence, statistics, reason and logic, stuff like that, to get an idea of how the world is. I have a hard time with emotional arguments, they don’t make sense to me if they’re not back up with facts. For some reason, this has cost me quite a few “friends” off Facebook, and now I feel like it may have cost me someone I actually really care about, because the last few times she’s commented on anything of mine, it’s been heated, and I don’t understand it at all. I don’t get it. I keep trying, but I feel like I’m missing something, because I can’t understand social stuff very well.

I’m good at pretending, and I think people forget that I’m pretty much just going by script and information from past experiences that may not apply to all these new ones. I don’t know if I’ve somehow inadvertently hurt my friend, or just pissed her off, or if she’s grown bored of me, or if her life is just throwing her for a constant loop for the past few months and she’s been aloof with everyone.

My paranoia and anxiety are convinced I’ve screwed it up though.

It’s just happened so many times, what’s one more to add to the list?

I feel like I should just give up on having friends entirely. I’m obviously not a good enough one myself.

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Self exploration through writing

On the way home from the store tonight, I was thinking about how most characters in books have certain virtues and talents that get them through life and hard times, such as being courageous or have a great voice (like in the book Fairest), or how many fairy tales the princess has to be beautiful and that’s what helps her, while the men are strong and brave, and don’t back down, they don’t give up. Steadfast.

So I was thinking about my characters. Since I started my writing exercises last year, I’ve focused mainly on one character, and though I do have others, they’re pretty similar. And, well, they’re similar to me, because I have a hard time writing outside of my personal experience. I can write characters that already exist, or base a character off a real person, but since my writing exercises are for me alone as a form of therapy, my characters take on traits I either see in myself or wish I had. When I write these characters down, and look at the story from afar, I can see things so much clearer than when they’re in my head, when I’m examining myself. I have to step outside of myself in order to see me better.

Claire is definitely not perfect. She has anxiety and depression, feelings of worthlessness and the strong overwhelming desire to be worth something. And in her desire to help in any way she can, she’s also afraid of messing things up, which in turn can mess things up. I noticed she has a strong maternal instinct, she has the desire to protect and to care for others, even if she doesn’t know them. She’s a nurse and a fighter, tending to the wounded after fighting a battle. She’s also practical to a fault, one some might call a “stick in the mud.” I don’t get to test out my prowess on a battlefield (and I’m sure I’d be bad at it), but I do know I’m good at taking care of people. It’s like some sort of auto-pilot comes on and I just go…

I do have a strong urge to protect people, and to help them, and to make their lives better in any way I can. I don’t know why, it’s just how I am, despite that I pretty much don’t trust anyone and am constantly on my guard. And as strange as it is, I’m loyal to a fault as well. Those people who have hurt me over the years, the people who have backstabbed me and betrayed me… I have continued to keep whatever secrets they may have told me, and I refuse to go on my public scenes to complain about them, and even here, I don’t mention names. I guess in a way, I don’t even hold it against them, really. I can still be civil with them, even if I can never trust them again. If someone else is fine with them, who am I to besmirch their name? What happened was between them and myself, no one else. I think there are maybe two or three people who I have told anything to over the years, and I’ve told them because I know they won’t say anything to anyone else and they won’t seek out any sort of payback for me. I do not need anyone attacking anyone else because I said something.

And as weird as it is, I would still help those who have hurt me. If I had the means and they needed my help, I would help them. That’s just how my family is. I can’t imagine being any different. And it shows in my characters a lot. They’re lonely, protective, desperate to be worth something, and willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of others. They are not heroes, they are in the background helping the heroes. They don’t want attention and if they can help anonymously, they will, because just the knowledge that someone might be happier, even just for a moment, because of something they did, it’s worth it. Even if it’s just smiling at someone who looks like they’re having a bad day or buying someone a coffee, or even just leaving a piece of artwork for someone to pick up.

I want to make the world a better place, I want to help people in any way that I can, and what better way than to go out into the world and touch people’s lives? It would be better if I wasn’t so… anti-social and socially awkward, and an outsider. Even if society deems me to be a freak and unfit to join their ranks, even if they bully me, and people like me, I will continue to do what I can to help others. I think that because there is so much pain even here in the states, that’s more reason for me to go do things to help out. I know the states has it easy compared to many, many other countries, but this is where I am, and where I can do the most good for now.

Misunderstanding

There’s a lady on talking to me right now and I have no idea what she’s meaning. It feels like she’s trying to tell me to stop talking about how being bullies isn’t helping anything… I know my posts tend to be long but they should be straightforward… I thought that my post would be taken as a “Don’t be a hypocrite and bullying is bad.” But people are commenting all sorts of other things on it that go deep into philosophy, and then this lady PM’d me and has just now blocked me because she apparently doesn’t agree with me? I don’t know… it doesn’t make sense to me.

I *know* not every person fighting for equality is the same as these extremist SJWs. I know not every feminist is a man hating person. I am complaining about the people who ARE. Why is that wrong??

Edited to say that despite saying she appreciates things about me and thinks I’m a good person, the lady who blocked me was afraid I was going to screenshot her and send the screenshots to my supposed MRA groups, groups for reverse racism (I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised those exist), and groups to make fun of liberals.

#1, I have never been, nor will I ever be, in groups like that ever again. I was in Sanctimommy Said What and I saw what kind of a shit hole that turned into with everyone turning on each other… And then when that other group turned on me, I just quit groups altogether except things that post pictures of cute fluffy things. I’m done with groups.

#2, I don’t side with anyone except those who strive for equality between everyone. If everyone is too busy bitching about how bad they have it, they can’t see the solutions. I don’t want to make fun of people, I just apparently have a poor way of trying to show flaws in all extremist thinking. I want to figure out why people think the way they do, and I am such a stickler for as much honesty as I can that maybe it makes me seem… I don’t know… I pick on all sides, but sometimes I guess it seems more one sided? I don’t know. I just hate that the people I thought were on my side are just as bad, if not worse, than the people they claim to hate.

If someone on my newsfeed posts something incorrect, I can’t really scroll by. If I see it enough, I’ll make a post about it. Maybe it’s more a reflection of what people post? o.O

Maybe I should just become a hermit and say screw the world, let it burn. Why should I even try to make a difference if no side will have me?

Those closest hurt you the most

Recently, I followed my brother onto this facebook page where this guy posted a comic depicting a man and a woman, and she give him her number, and as they walk away, the man is thinking, “I hope she didn’t give me a wrong number.” While the woman is thinking, “I hope he doesn’t rape and murder me.” Below that was written, “Today on “We’re Past All That” a critical examination of how men are really hurt when women don’t trust them and how it’s important that we really consider those feelings.”

My brother started commenting against the comments claiming that men are rapists and are not to be trusted, and then I joined in, because this is a completely unfair assessment that only damages any kind of equality we’re trying for. My brother stated that the comic was an unfair example, and that a better thing for the man to be thinking would be “I hope she doesn’t falsely accuse me of rape.” My brother has spent the past 6 years having to deal with the repercussions of that.

We were called rape apologists for saying that most men don’t rape, and that saying it’s fine to mistrust men is the same as saying it’s fine to mistrust black people. Neither one is ok. They claimed we were trying to dismiss women’s experiences by saying that not all men rape… even though it’s more like 5% of the population that does. 5% is not most, it is a mere fraction. Why should millions of men be accused in the minds of women of something they will never do?

It builds up a barrier, something we’ve been trying to tear down. It sets us back, and the people who claim that no man is to be trusted are just trying to raise up a new power in place of the old. No one group should ever be in charge, nothing will ever get better that way.

And of course my brother and I got banned, and then my mom sent me a screenshot showing me that my cousin apologized for our behavior… Great. How sweet. Apologizing for our behavior, knowing exactly what we’ve been through? Our position is as valid as theirs, but we were apparently invading a “safe space,” which happens to be a public page. PUBLIC. Safe places are private. Technically, there are no safe places… just look at what happened to me last year…

This is why I trust no one. I just didn’t expect it from family, especially the cousin I’m closest with.

The teenage diaries

I did have a bit of teen angst in my old diaries, but the depression made everything worse. Some people on facebook were sharing things about shows where people can go to share their old diary entries and make fun of their teenage selves, and so I went to look at mine, but I can’t laugh at it.

I still feel the pain, so well. I remember the knives, the pills, the darkness… and the darkness’s sweet embrace that was always just out of reach… My entries either read as a Captain’s Log play by play on things we did, or it’s a whirlwind of confusing emotions and me trying to process it all, ending with how exhausted, emotionally, I was, and how I was just tired of the pain.

“Oh that the darkness had taken me! I would welcome that darkness with open arms, if only to be rid of the pain… silent agonies… ripping at my heart, tearing my soul apart… and there’s no one to tell…”

I wish I could laugh at my teenage self for well, being a teenager, but I remember it too well. And besides, I wouldn’t laugh at a teenager who came to me upset over something I thought trivial. That’s what being a teenager is about, experiencing new and very extreme emotions, and trying to figure them out. Sadly, some teens have to deal with things like anxiety and depression along with everything else. And I cannot laugh at that, and I feel bad because I should be able to laugh at myself. I can laugh at stupid things I’ve said, like “I’d rather die than commit suicide!” (I think I was 9?). But I can’t laugh at the pain I was in, and everything else I wrote was pretty boring, like a news article.

“I wonder what plane I will fly in next. I sort of know, but I don’t know what it looks like. As big as a 747? That’s what I flew in on the way here. I don’t feel like I’m in Korea… I don’t know what I feel. Except that I feel no fear. None. I get a little nervous here and there… but not like I thought. I feel very comfy with not being able to speak the language (the security guards wear berrets!) 🙂 I wonder how it will go when I meet up with Wang Xin. Because it will be her country and language. Such an old and complicated language too! I hope I can learn it well and fast. My brother seems to have a knack to pick up languages. He speaks Japanese quite well, though for some reason doesn’t like Chinese. Oh well.”

When I write, it’s to transfer information, or to try to organize my thoughts or just get my feelings out. Like when I have a conversation with someone, phrases mean things to me whereas they’re just filler for other people. I don’t say things I don’t mean, and I don’t ask questions unless I really want to know the answer. My journals are the same, cataloging my days, my emotions, and what happened when. I have stacks of notebooks full of stuff, and it’s interesting to watch me go from being excited about having people to hang out with, to being flat out confused as to why they suddenly stopped caring about me, why they were lying to me, using me, and back stabbing me. It made me so cynical and now I don’t trust anyone.

I will not become attached to anyone again. I will not be used unless I say so (there are some situations where I’m meh about it, and will allow it because it’s no big deal). And since I can’t tell who has selfish motives most of the time, I treat everyone the same. I expect nothing in return, so when I get nothing, I’m not disappointed. I expect people to ditch out on me, because it’s happened so many times. For once, I’m not upset that my husband didn’t get me anything for my birthday. I would prefer it if my birthday ceased to exist, I think. I have more important things to worry about than whether or not someone forgot the day I was born. Again.

I may be rather jaded and bitter and cynical right now, but I won’t let that get in the way of wanting to help people. I just wish I had more to laugh at in my journals…

Reaching the breaking point

I don’t know how much more I can take before I crack. Because my husband is in the Masters program, he has to write a thesis, and it’s a big deal, but we have two hyper little boys who are very loud… So his teacher said he needed to find a way to get rid of them so he can have quiet time. I have to leave for the entire day with them so he can get work done.

I’m so exhausted already… Going out makes it worse, especially with the boys. Because the eldest gets over stimulated so easily, being out creates more meltdowns. They’re already cranky from the past week where I had to go get a bunch of things done, a lot of it for my husband’s work.

I need to be strong. I can’t let him know how close I am to breaking, because he doesn’t need that kind of stress added to the pile he already has, but this whole thing had me sobbing in the shower and then I ended up silently crying myself to sleep. I have never cried myself to sleep before.

I’m going to my parents’ today, they can at least help, it’s just exhausting just leaving the house. Maybe they’ll let me take a nap… I wonder how far I can push myself until I break. I’m going to have to find a way to get the kids out of the house every afternoon when my husband comes home too… I don’t know what I’m going to do for dinners. I don’t know why it’s so hard to ask for help… probably because the only people that can help have problems of their own.

The lady down the street who can help has three kids of her own that are quite a handful, plus her mother lives with them and she has health issues and they always seem so stressed I don’t want to add to it. My mother in law still works, technically two jobs, and my father in law is hardly ever home because of his job. My parents are the only ones who are retired, but they’re constantly doing things. They already help so much… like when I have to go to the doctor.

That’s another thing. My doctor said I might need to be put on hormonal birth control because of the problems I’ve been having, but he’s not sure so I have an appointment with GYN next week so they can pinpoint the problem. Whether it’s a hormonal imbalance, cysts, endometriosis, or what… And I feel myself about to cry again because I can’t rely on my husband anymore. I can’t put more pressure on him, more stress. I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my foundation and it’s shaking me to my core. I will have to talk to him, but I don’t want to.

I have no idea how much of this is unfair to me, how much I’m supposed to take, or what. I already do everything around the house. I do the automotive care, I changed the lights in the chandelier and the outside porch lights, I need to climb into the attack and change the smoke detector’s battery, I fixed the sink, I do the laundry, I make the meals, I feed the cats, I do the dishes, I do the bills, I run the errands, I make the phone calls…

He works and goes to school and most of the time feeds the dogs. Right now he’s playing video games. I’m waiting for the laundry to get done so I can get dressed and get the kids dressed so we can leave so he can do homework and have a quiet day… I am incredibly jealous. And this is going to go on until June.

I’m screwed, aren’t I.

Assumptions

I’m more and more convinced I should assume people won’t actually read what I write but will respond with what they assume I wrote. I’m still trying to figure out why people don’t read. It’s not like it’s that difficult. Am I too wordy?

Is there some hidden message in saying “I need to avoid all plant matter and stick to only meat and dairy”? How is that possibly worded to mean “I can’t have meat”?

My husband says I need to pretend I’m always talking to toddlers.

You know, we came across this problem all the time at the library. No one would read the signs. We would have signs all over the place saying the printer was dead, at every computer, a few at the desk and covering the printer itself and people would stare at the sign and ask for their prints, then they would get mad at us when we said the printer was dead. They would tell us we needed signs, then get irate when we pointed out each sign.

Why don’t people read?? Why do they just react? Does that actually work most of the time with neurotypicals? I have seen a few times of people saying “that’s not what I said” or “not what I meant” so it’s obviously not an all the time thing, but is it a more often than not thing or are people just… I dunno… this happens with people I know aren’t idiots. I just cannot for the life of me figure it out.