Trapped and defeated. That's the way I feel. When I think of my future, all I see is more work. It just feels like work and mediocrity. Monotony. I don't know if I ever want to go back to school at all. I don't know if I could ever hold a job anyway. I KNOW I'd make a terrible mother. I'd have no energy. I have no energy now! How could I gain some after a kid? I just want it to be over. I just want to finish life and be done. I don't look forward to the future at all.
I don't know why I'm still here. The medications keep me from offing myself, so I'm stuck in this misery that my brain creates for me! I do what everyone says is good for that. I'm grateful for every single thing I have - I know I don't deserve any of it. I certainly haven't earned any of it. I look for the positive where it can be found, but I'm not going to be delusional or ignorant. I'm taking medicine, I'm doing therapy...it helps, DEFINITELY, but just nowhere near enough.
Today I felt good because I went down a shopping isle that was full of people - inconsiderate ones at that - and I walked down it anyway (icecream is worth the pain!). My entire body was stiff, but I got great icecream! I was proud of myself. For walking down a stupid isle in a stupid grocery store.
That's a sad situation. A hopeless one.
I'm just done. I don't know what to do with my life anymore. I don't hardly care except that I want Stephen to be happy. I wish I could help him right now. I feel so guilty that he's working 40 hours a week AND going to school half time and I'm here like..."I can't even finish school. And I'm exhausted from just being awake today."
I'm so useless and parasitic. I don't know how it got to be this way. When I was depressed before, it was bad enough, but I still had aspirations and hopes. I have nothing now.
Anyway, this is just getting long-winded and rediculous. I'm still here. Stephen is an absolute superstar. I love him soooo much. We have Millie and a place to live. We go on dates fairly often (a lot more recently, but that's because I'm freaking miserable). Life is alright. No one said this would be an easy ride, I get that. I just wish it was a happier ride. I wish I didn't feel like this all the time. How am I supposed to live like this? I can't do this for the rest of my life.
Ugh. Sorry about all the negative posts. I'm really not in a good place. Maybe I should get more medication. Tomorrow is therapy day. Maybe I'll have something constructive to say!
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
The Sad Creep
I'm finding I have a very hard time caring about anything. I just want to rest. Emotionally and physically. Tim doesn't think I truly believe this, but I almost know I'd be happier if I could just be alone.
When I'm coming home from my temporary job (which manages to give me some level of accomplishment) and I'm about to shove the key into the front door I finally feel safe. Like I can relax.
I was thinking about it on the train today. How I just wish I could be me and that no one would tell me it's wrong or, worse yet, that whatever their interpretation of me is wrong.
I get it. It's hard to know me. The only person in this world who I can 100% comfortably be myself around or say anything to is Stephen. My absolute closest friends and family see 70-80%. Mostly because, when I open up to my family, they try to discount it, fix it, or tell me what to do to or how to think (with the best intentions). I can't fathom opening up to my regular friends. I don't want themthinking knowing how neurotic, scared, irritable, morbid, and sarcastic I can be. I'm trying to work on that. On letting them see who I am - flaws included. Everyone else sees maybe up to 40%.
I guess it would be easier to understand if you tried living every day forced to be someone you're not while constantly trying to quell this sense of terror and immense tension from invisible origins. Some horrible configuration of your insecurities, your desperate attempts at overcoming them, a deep, natural inclination toward distrust and paranoia, and your utter shame for having these stupid feelings. You mourn what you unwillingly hide. All the good or acceptable things. The pure you.
I'm getting desperate. I've tried everything, but I've just lost the will to try anymore. To hope for anything. To change.
Anyway, I was thinking on the train-ride home...just how deeply sad I am that so many people I didn't choose to allow into my life think they know who I am. I'm "just quiet". And they always get this sense that I think I'm so important, that I only think of myself, or that I'm judgemental. I wish I could've shown them that that isn't me at all. But I am simply incapable of that. I have no hope of ever showing them (or anyone else) 100% who I really am.
Not that they care to know or that it might just be better that they never see me again. Just that I can't ever really be me. Even if I did manage to get my mental illnesses under control, it would be "me" plus medicine. I wouldn't wish this draining burden on anyone. Especially because I do have a lot to give. I have a neat (though heavily-flawed) personality. I'm learning to love my morbidity, my sarcasm, black humor, curiosity, and bluntness. I'm trying to embrace that. I also want to be able to show that I am (overly) sensitive, thoughtful, kind, bold, honest...all the things 5-year-old/undamaged/un-ill me was. These things always get drowned out by my fear and irritability.
Anyway...this was a LOT of I's and a LOT of me's. Ugh. But, to be fair, this is my blog/journal/"vent space". I hope that's understood. I'm not always thinking of myself. In fact, I'm usually thinking of universal concepts of the human condition. And I'd always love to read any of your thoughts - I like learning about people. Everything there is to know, really! It's creepy. And that's me!
When I'm coming home from my temporary job (which manages to give me some level of accomplishment) and I'm about to shove the key into the front door I finally feel safe. Like I can relax.
I was thinking about it on the train today. How I just wish I could be me and that no one would tell me it's wrong or, worse yet, that whatever their interpretation of me is wrong.
I get it. It's hard to know me. The only person in this world who I can 100% comfortably be myself around or say anything to is Stephen. My absolute closest friends and family see 70-80%. Mostly because, when I open up to my family, they try to discount it, fix it, or tell me what to do to or how to think (with the best intentions). I can't fathom opening up to my regular friends. I don't want them
I guess it would be easier to understand if you tried living every day forced to be someone you're not while constantly trying to quell this sense of terror and immense tension from invisible origins. Some horrible configuration of your insecurities, your desperate attempts at overcoming them, a deep, natural inclination toward distrust and paranoia, and your utter shame for having these stupid feelings. You mourn what you unwillingly hide. All the good or acceptable things. The pure you.
I'm getting desperate. I've tried everything, but I've just lost the will to try anymore. To hope for anything. To change.
Anyway, I was thinking on the train-ride home...just how deeply sad I am that so many people I didn't choose to allow into my life think they know who I am. I'm "just quiet". And they always get this sense that I think I'm so important, that I only think of myself, or that I'm judgemental. I wish I could've shown them that that isn't me at all. But I am simply incapable of that. I have no hope of ever showing them (or anyone else) 100% who I really am.
Not that they care to know or that it might just be better that they never see me again. Just that I can't ever really be me. Even if I did manage to get my mental illnesses under control, it would be "me" plus medicine. I wouldn't wish this draining burden on anyone. Especially because I do have a lot to give. I have a neat (though heavily-flawed) personality. I'm learning to love my morbidity, my sarcasm, black humor, curiosity, and bluntness. I'm trying to embrace that. I also want to be able to show that I am (overly) sensitive, thoughtful, kind, bold, honest...all the things 5-year-old/undamaged/un-ill me was. These things always get drowned out by my fear and irritability.
Anyway...this was a LOT of I's and a LOT of me's. Ugh. But, to be fair, this is my blog/journal/"vent space". I hope that's understood. I'm not always thinking of myself. In fact, I'm usually thinking of universal concepts of the human condition. And I'd always love to read any of your thoughts - I like learning about people. Everything there is to know, really! It's creepy. And that's me!
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Better? (An Update)
I was recently asked about my weightloss from a family member. I haven't lost too much weight this time. Just 13ish pounds. But I guess it looks like more.
I gain and lose weight like no one's business. One year, I inexplicably lost around 50 pounds. The next, I regained 30 of those pounds. Now I'm losing weight again! It's going away more slowly than before, and I know why it's happening this time. It's my medication. I rarely eat to make myself feel better anymore, I just eat until I'm full.
I explained this to my relative, who then asked: "So you're doing better?"
I replied "Yeah!" without hesitation. But is it true? My therapist is always saying I've come so far since February, but I really don't see nearly as big an improvement as he makes it out to be. I'm not as active with my suicidal intentions. I've stopped cutting, I suppose... but I still feel horrific. I guess I'm no longer desperate, but now I just feel useless, lifeless, and hopeless. There is no more urgency to end my life, but I still think of it every single day. I have to tell myself every single day to keep going. I don't know what for, but I know the alternative is to face the consequences of possibly messing up, dying and facing punishment, or even just hurting those around me.
Every day is just like...why? Why am I still doing this? Why am I still here?
I no longer have motivation to "follow my dreams". I don't know if I even have those anymore. I think I may be done with college. My only aspiration at this point is to feel better someday and to make some kind of difference. Bring some kind of meaning to my stupid, mistake-ridden life that I nearly single-handedly screwed WAY up. I keep trying and trying to reccouperate, but I just can't anymore. I'm so tired of trying. It seems everything I do is a mistake.
Anyway, these feelings are constant, but I have been trying to change things lately. My sister recently contacted me with a job offer. It was a temporary position with a group I don't agree with on all accounts, but they're nice people and the office is fancy. Besides, my role in the system is inconsequencial to the cause. It's all the way in Salt Lake City, but the need to fill the position seemed desperate. The extra cash doesn't hurt either!
Man, it's been hard. I'm already in interaction overload, and I can't take too much of a break before coming back into the office. I have to travel for about 4 hours to get there and back (using public transit). So that's more time I have to spend away from home. But, even given this and the many other problems I'm not mentioning, I feel like I'm being productive for the first time in a long time. I have some kind of small purpose - even though it's ultimately meaningless. I feel like I'm contributing to my family for once.
So...I'm trying to push through all the negative aspects of this life event. Just 5 or 6 weeks left and it's back to being a simple stay-at-home wife.
Or is it? I should mention that I've also been contacting funeral homes in search of some experience opportunities. So far, all the ones in Provo and Orem are not hiring, but I'm expanding my search to include all areas north up to West Jordan. It was inspired by taking the frontrunner. There are so many places I could go without driving! My world has expanded!
So I guess there is a glimmer of hope somewhere. I'm hoping I don't mess anything up. I'm hoping I can find my birth certificate so I can get paid. I'm hoping I can get a day or two to rest soon and contact more funeral homes!
Am I doing better? Maybe.
I gain and lose weight like no one's business. One year, I inexplicably lost around 50 pounds. The next, I regained 30 of those pounds. Now I'm losing weight again! It's going away more slowly than before, and I know why it's happening this time. It's my medication. I rarely eat to make myself feel better anymore, I just eat until I'm full.
I explained this to my relative, who then asked: "So you're doing better?"
I replied "Yeah!" without hesitation. But is it true? My therapist is always saying I've come so far since February, but I really don't see nearly as big an improvement as he makes it out to be. I'm not as active with my suicidal intentions. I've stopped cutting, I suppose... but I still feel horrific. I guess I'm no longer desperate, but now I just feel useless, lifeless, and hopeless. There is no more urgency to end my life, but I still think of it every single day. I have to tell myself every single day to keep going. I don't know what for, but I know the alternative is to face the consequences of possibly messing up, dying and facing punishment, or even just hurting those around me.
Every day is just like...why? Why am I still doing this? Why am I still here?
I no longer have motivation to "follow my dreams". I don't know if I even have those anymore. I think I may be done with college. My only aspiration at this point is to feel better someday and to make some kind of difference. Bring some kind of meaning to my stupid, mistake-ridden life that I nearly single-handedly screwed WAY up. I keep trying and trying to reccouperate, but I just can't anymore. I'm so tired of trying. It seems everything I do is a mistake.
Anyway, these feelings are constant, but I have been trying to change things lately. My sister recently contacted me with a job offer. It was a temporary position with a group I don't agree with on all accounts, but they're nice people and the office is fancy. Besides, my role in the system is inconsequencial to the cause. It's all the way in Salt Lake City, but the need to fill the position seemed desperate. The extra cash doesn't hurt either!
Man, it's been hard. I'm already in interaction overload, and I can't take too much of a break before coming back into the office. I have to travel for about 4 hours to get there and back (using public transit). So that's more time I have to spend away from home. But, even given this and the many other problems I'm not mentioning, I feel like I'm being productive for the first time in a long time. I have some kind of small purpose - even though it's ultimately meaningless. I feel like I'm contributing to my family for once.
So...I'm trying to push through all the negative aspects of this life event. Just 5 or 6 weeks left and it's back to being a simple stay-at-home wife.
Or is it? I should mention that I've also been contacting funeral homes in search of some experience opportunities. So far, all the ones in Provo and Orem are not hiring, but I'm expanding my search to include all areas north up to West Jordan. It was inspired by taking the frontrunner. There are so many places I could go without driving! My world has expanded!
So I guess there is a glimmer of hope somewhere. I'm hoping I don't mess anything up. I'm hoping I can find my birth certificate so I can get paid. I'm hoping I can get a day or two to rest soon and contact more funeral homes!
Am I doing better? Maybe.
Monday, September 14, 2015
"I"
I think I've let something damage me.
It's no secret that my in-laws have been inexplicably cruel to me. I've gotten the brunt of the bullying for any perceived wrong-doing. Once for inviting my brother-in-law to Stephen's birthday party (yup, my fault for trying to help someone feel included and like their birthday mattered), many times for Stephen and I's friends "not liking" my brother-in-law's wife, once *by a lot of people* for Stephen not inviting his grandma personally to our stupid wedding, once for not looking at my brother-in-law's wife enough, and of course once for staying with my husband after he'd cheated on me whilst we were dating because I wasn't sleeping with him.
I mean...these are just the things I know about. And I'm not even mentioning the rolled eyes, snubs, gossip, and outright name-calling. And they've tried sending me stupid gifts in place of an apology - which is just more insulting. My mother-in-law will just get through with berrating me and then text Stephen and tell him how awesome he is and how proud she is of him.
This is becoming a rant...
ANYWAY, of all the things I've been through for that man...the hellish awakening of IBS-C as a result of emergency contraception I had to pay for and take because of his mistake, the humiliation, betrayal, and utter heartbreak of his infidelity and manipulation, the judgement and guff I get from his family for THEIR misconceptions of my actions... the names are the worst. Firstly because they're completely off. Not me at all. Second, because I start to believe their fallacious misgivings.
What they don't know is that I'm hard on myself. I am my toughest judge. I have a well of faults that I acknowledge and obsess over, I truly have no need for their false labels. Unhumble, judgemental, childish, prejudice... But one really gets to me in particular...
Self-centered
It's something I was already self-conscious of before. I use "I" WAY too much in my writings, whether it's here or Facebook. I usually explain it away with the fact that I rarely see any other human beings in my typical week. I rarely interract with anyone else except for Stephen. How could I not only talk about myself and my thoughts? It's not a choice.
Yet there it is. And, everytime I have the displeasure of talking to my mother-in-law, she does everything she can to make me feel like I'm making it about me. She'll ASK me about me or say something related to me and then I'll respond, using the appropriate delivery, and then it's: "Not everything is about you!"
I REALIZE THAT!!!
And her stupid sister thinks the same way. And I'm sure a lot of other family members feel the same about me because they get their "news" from miss loudmouth.
You know...it's never the fact that I have a messiah complex, or that I think I'm better than dishonest people (and I really look down on them. I literally think I'm better than them). It's not the fact that I'm hard to please, neurotic, or uncomfortable to be around. NO! It's LIES! They cling to these LIES they've made up about me. Please...just give me a chance to show you how horrible I actually am first? Maybe?
Stephen never introduced me to them - he thinks that's why they've been so animalistic toward me. I didn't think it could be that (how ridiculous) but, then again, I didn't think a stupid personal invitation would be such a big deal either.
Ugh. I digress (again)...
I just hate myself everytime I write anything about me anymore. This post makes my chest tighten and get all anxious-y. I am not self-centered, I'm a loner. A real loner. I have no one else to write about or pictures of friends or activities to post. I love other people. It depresses me to think of their suffering, but I do it all the time. I am NOT self-centered.
But the damage has already been done. I will question my reasoning every damn time I write something. How many "I"s were in that sentence?
It's no secret that my in-laws have been inexplicably cruel to me. I've gotten the brunt of the bullying for any perceived wrong-doing. Once for inviting my brother-in-law to Stephen's birthday party (yup, my fault for trying to help someone feel included and like their birthday mattered), many times for Stephen and I's friends "not liking" my brother-in-law's wife, once *by a lot of people* for Stephen not inviting his grandma personally to our stupid wedding, once for not looking at my brother-in-law's wife enough, and of course once for staying with my husband after he'd cheated on me whilst we were dating because I wasn't sleeping with him.
I mean...these are just the things I know about. And I'm not even mentioning the rolled eyes, snubs, gossip, and outright name-calling. And they've tried sending me stupid gifts in place of an apology - which is just more insulting. My mother-in-law will just get through with berrating me and then text Stephen and tell him how awesome he is and how proud she is of him.
This is becoming a rant...
ANYWAY, of all the things I've been through for that man...the hellish awakening of IBS-C as a result of emergency contraception I had to pay for and take because of his mistake, the humiliation, betrayal, and utter heartbreak of his infidelity and manipulation, the judgement and guff I get from his family for THEIR misconceptions of my actions... the names are the worst. Firstly because they're completely off. Not me at all. Second, because I start to believe their fallacious misgivings.
What they don't know is that I'm hard on myself. I am my toughest judge. I have a well of faults that I acknowledge and obsess over, I truly have no need for their false labels. Unhumble, judgemental, childish, prejudice... But one really gets to me in particular...
Self-centered
It's something I was already self-conscious of before. I use "I" WAY too much in my writings, whether it's here or Facebook. I usually explain it away with the fact that I rarely see any other human beings in my typical week. I rarely interract with anyone else except for Stephen. How could I not only talk about myself and my thoughts? It's not a choice.
Yet there it is. And, everytime I have the displeasure of talking to my mother-in-law, she does everything she can to make me feel like I'm making it about me. She'll ASK me about me or say something related to me and then I'll respond, using the appropriate delivery, and then it's: "Not everything is about you!"
I REALIZE THAT!!!
And her stupid sister thinks the same way. And I'm sure a lot of other family members feel the same about me because they get their "news" from miss loudmouth.
You know...it's never the fact that I have a messiah complex, or that I think I'm better than dishonest people (and I really look down on them. I literally think I'm better than them). It's not the fact that I'm hard to please, neurotic, or uncomfortable to be around. NO! It's LIES! They cling to these LIES they've made up about me. Please...just give me a chance to show you how horrible I actually am first? Maybe?
Stephen never introduced me to them - he thinks that's why they've been so animalistic toward me. I didn't think it could be that (how ridiculous) but, then again, I didn't think a stupid personal invitation would be such a big deal either.
Ugh. I digress (again)...
I just hate myself everytime I write anything about me anymore. This post makes my chest tighten and get all anxious-y. I am not self-centered, I'm a loner. A real loner. I have no one else to write about or pictures of friends or activities to post. I love other people. It depresses me to think of their suffering, but I do it all the time. I am NOT self-centered.
But the damage has already been done. I will question my reasoning every damn time I write something. How many "I"s were in that sentence?
Friday, September 11, 2015
Dress Your Truth
When I was with my therapist on Wednesday, our conversation was relatively light. We spoke mostly about getting a job at a mortuary (anything to get me out of the house - he thinks it would help) the whole time. And he gave me great advice, as always.
At the very end of the session, I decided to ask him a question that'd kept me up through the night. I'd been trying really hard to find out for certain whether I was warm, cool, or neutral. Because I don't know if I want a gold dreamcatcher necklace or a silver one.
Seriously.
He majored in art, so I knew he'd know something about it. He said I was "probably more warm". Which was surprising, becaues I'd always been told I was cool. From a young age. He then recommended a program I'd heard about a couple of times before: Dress Your Truth.
It is a unique program designed to emphasize natural beauty through personal discovery and identification. Ultimately, there are 4 "types" representing Air/Gas, Water/Liquid, Fire/Plasma, and Earth/Solid...? Earth, I think. Every woman has some of all of them within her, but one is dominant.
True to character, it took me a lot of time to decide that I was a type 2. Water. This is the sensitive type person who blends into the background. She's soft and connected. She makes lists and has piles of things around her house. She wants to be comfortable and, more importantly (and what made me sure of my type), she wants everyone around her to be comfortable as well. That has always been my ultimate goal with social interractions. And I've always felt like I utterly fail at that. I get very down on myself for it. I'm extremely insecure about it.
As I was reaching my realization, I got worried. Firstly that I was making the wrong choice, but secondarily because this type is the "weak" type. The demure, typical female role. I was wondering why that made me so uncomfortable. Was it the feminist deep inside, ready to tear me a new one? Urging me to be strong and outspoken? Was I wrong? Why did I want so badly to be wrong?
I found my answer in another Youtube video (sorry, the title is lost on me). In it, the creator of the program discusses a woman's discovery of her type 2 self. And that's when it clicked. She was always told things like: "Suck it up." "Stop crying." "You're too sensitive." As if sensitivity was a bad thing! Luckily my brain knows better now, but my heart still feels ashamed of this aspect of me. I was always made to feel embarrassed about showing any sort of emotion, really.
I was just always told to stifle who I am. My type 3 dad (the boss) would get angry with me for sleeping in during the Summer, or for having my clothes piled on the ground. As a ISTJ, type A, Red, type 3 personality, he just didn't understand me on a lot of levels.
Then there was my mom, a type 1 (the free-spirit) who just couldn't understand why things would get to me. The rest of my family was the same way. I was always made to feel embarrassed about any kind of emotion that wasn't "strong" or "chill". So that's maybe where the front comes from. And also maybe part of why I hate myself so much.
And that's not to say they were bad parents or a bad family, they just weren't aware. I wasn't even aware! But a lot of things make sense now. I know this whole thing is about clothing and dressing to your true self but, like always, I learned so much about my personality and the personalities of others. I'm kind of excited to try dressing as my type 2 self and seeing where it can take me. Perhaps it will help with the social issues. I hope so anyway...
At the very end of the session, I decided to ask him a question that'd kept me up through the night. I'd been trying really hard to find out for certain whether I was warm, cool, or neutral. Because I don't know if I want a gold dreamcatcher necklace or a silver one.
Seriously.
He majored in art, so I knew he'd know something about it. He said I was "probably more warm". Which was surprising, becaues I'd always been told I was cool. From a young age. He then recommended a program I'd heard about a couple of times before: Dress Your Truth.
It is a unique program designed to emphasize natural beauty through personal discovery and identification. Ultimately, there are 4 "types" representing Air/Gas, Water/Liquid, Fire/Plasma, and Earth/Solid...? Earth, I think. Every woman has some of all of them within her, but one is dominant.
True to character, it took me a lot of time to decide that I was a type 2. Water. This is the sensitive type person who blends into the background. She's soft and connected. She makes lists and has piles of things around her house. She wants to be comfortable and, more importantly (and what made me sure of my type), she wants everyone around her to be comfortable as well. That has always been my ultimate goal with social interractions. And I've always felt like I utterly fail at that. I get very down on myself for it. I'm extremely insecure about it.
As I was reaching my realization, I got worried. Firstly that I was making the wrong choice, but secondarily because this type is the "weak" type. The demure, typical female role. I was wondering why that made me so uncomfortable. Was it the feminist deep inside, ready to tear me a new one? Urging me to be strong and outspoken? Was I wrong? Why did I want so badly to be wrong?
I found my answer in another Youtube video (sorry, the title is lost on me). In it, the creator of the program discusses a woman's discovery of her type 2 self. And that's when it clicked. She was always told things like: "Suck it up." "Stop crying." "You're too sensitive." As if sensitivity was a bad thing! Luckily my brain knows better now, but my heart still feels ashamed of this aspect of me. I was always made to feel embarrassed about showing any sort of emotion, really.
I was just always told to stifle who I am. My type 3 dad (the boss) would get angry with me for sleeping in during the Summer, or for having my clothes piled on the ground. As a ISTJ, type A, Red, type 3 personality, he just didn't understand me on a lot of levels.
Then there was my mom, a type 1 (the free-spirit) who just couldn't understand why things would get to me. The rest of my family was the same way. I was always made to feel embarrassed about any kind of emotion that wasn't "strong" or "chill". So that's maybe where the front comes from. And also maybe part of why I hate myself so much.
And that's not to say they were bad parents or a bad family, they just weren't aware. I wasn't even aware! But a lot of things make sense now. I know this whole thing is about clothing and dressing to your true self but, like always, I learned so much about my personality and the personalities of others. I'm kind of excited to try dressing as my type 2 self and seeing where it can take me. Perhaps it will help with the social issues. I hope so anyway...
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Social Phobia
Some sufferers may use alcohol or other drugs to reduce fears and inhibitions at social events. It is common for sufferers of social phobia to self-medicate in this fashion, especially if they are undiagnosed, untreated, or both; this can lead to alcoholism, eating disorders or other kinds of substance abuse. SAD is sometimes referred to as an 'illness of lost opportunities' where 'individuals make major life choices to accommodate their illness.' - Social Anxiety Disorder Wikipedia Page
I was thinking of joining a support group or something for my social phobia. I fear it's only getting worse. Maybe it's a matter of simply being under-medicated, but maybe I really am just getting worse. Or maybe the depression is getting worse?
I don't know how to even identify what is wrong. How do I know what is wrong when I can't remember ever feeling right?
ANYWAY, the very last sentence of the quote above interested me. Well...I just find it so incredibly accurate and relevent. I do everything I can to avoid jobs where being social would be any part of my life. Even being a crime scene technician doesn't appeal to me anymore because they testify in court. I don't think I'm capable of that. Even as a lowly autopsy technician, I worry about communicating effectively with the evisceration/exploration team. I can't fall back on the job of a funeral director either because there is NO way I'm going to be able to talk to grieving family members. I'm just not skilled or comfortable enough. I'd make them uneasy.
It's easy to see how someone like me could end up on the streets. People like me take drugs or ingest alcohol just to feel okay and then BAM - it's an addiction. Untreated addiction leads to the loss of jobs and family ties. Then the next thing you know you're on the streets because you can't even dream of holding a low-wage entry-level Mcjob (aka: cashiering, call center agent...ing, and waiting tables).
I'm so lucky to have Stephen, but I worry so much about our future. If he keeps working full time, we can't be sealed and he will take a long time to get his bachelors. I don't know if he's stressed or not with his schedule and taking care of me and Millie...I feel so guilty for doing this to him. And I just seem to sit around and use his money for medicine, food, and therapy.
I know he'd be better off without me. It's simple logistics.
I don't know if I can ever work, and that's all I ever wanted out of life - a job that I loved. Earning my own way through life. Independence. Prestige. Passion. Skill. 5 years out of high school and I have no letters to my name. Not even an AS. A dying part of me still wants that. The majority of me just wants it to end and go away.
I'm so tired of going through hoops just to hit brick walls and end up in a worse situation than before. I'm tired of pushing myself so much harder than everyone else just to scrape by. I'm tired of not only disappointing everyone around me, but of disappointing myself.
If I died tomorrow, it would all be over and maybe I could find some peace, but my life will have been so completely void of meaning. I haven't done anything good or worthwhile. Not for anyone else anyway.
I'm just wasting away in such an undignified manner. It's like suffocating an old person with a pillow. I'm the old person just frightened and struggling to breathe while the pillow presses into my face. I'm suspended in time, scratching and flailing in vain. I just wonder how much longer I can do this. I'm so tired of this. And what's next? Having a baby? That poor thing. It would have such a disgrace of a mother. And it will miss out on so much.
That's really all I have left to look forward to/mess up.
I just can't keep this up. I can't keep doing this. I'd be happy if I never spent another day in school, but I want a career that I love and that I can actually do. But I don't know if I can really do anything. I am vastly unequipped for this life.
I was thinking of joining a support group or something for my social phobia. I fear it's only getting worse. Maybe it's a matter of simply being under-medicated, but maybe I really am just getting worse. Or maybe the depression is getting worse?
I don't know how to even identify what is wrong. How do I know what is wrong when I can't remember ever feeling right?
ANYWAY, the very last sentence of the quote above interested me. Well...I just find it so incredibly accurate and relevent. I do everything I can to avoid jobs where being social would be any part of my life. Even being a crime scene technician doesn't appeal to me anymore because they testify in court. I don't think I'm capable of that. Even as a lowly autopsy technician, I worry about communicating effectively with the evisceration/exploration team. I can't fall back on the job of a funeral director either because there is NO way I'm going to be able to talk to grieving family members. I'm just not skilled or comfortable enough. I'd make them uneasy.
It's easy to see how someone like me could end up on the streets. People like me take drugs or ingest alcohol just to feel okay and then BAM - it's an addiction. Untreated addiction leads to the loss of jobs and family ties. Then the next thing you know you're on the streets because you can't even dream of holding a low-wage entry-level Mcjob (aka: cashiering, call center agent...ing, and waiting tables).
I'm so lucky to have Stephen, but I worry so much about our future. If he keeps working full time, we can't be sealed and he will take a long time to get his bachelors. I don't know if he's stressed or not with his schedule and taking care of me and Millie...I feel so guilty for doing this to him. And I just seem to sit around and use his money for medicine, food, and therapy.
I know he'd be better off without me. It's simple logistics.
I don't know if I can ever work, and that's all I ever wanted out of life - a job that I loved. Earning my own way through life. Independence. Prestige. Passion. Skill. 5 years out of high school and I have no letters to my name. Not even an AS. A dying part of me still wants that. The majority of me just wants it to end and go away.
I'm so tired of going through hoops just to hit brick walls and end up in a worse situation than before. I'm tired of pushing myself so much harder than everyone else just to scrape by. I'm tired of not only disappointing everyone around me, but of disappointing myself.
If I died tomorrow, it would all be over and maybe I could find some peace, but my life will have been so completely void of meaning. I haven't done anything good or worthwhile. Not for anyone else anyway.
I'm just wasting away in such an undignified manner. It's like suffocating an old person with a pillow. I'm the old person just frightened and struggling to breathe while the pillow presses into my face. I'm suspended in time, scratching and flailing in vain. I just wonder how much longer I can do this. I'm so tired of this. And what's next? Having a baby? That poor thing. It would have such a disgrace of a mother. And it will miss out on so much.
That's really all I have left to look forward to/mess up.
I just can't keep this up. I can't keep doing this. I'd be happy if I never spent another day in school, but I want a career that I love and that I can actually do. But I don't know if I can really do anything. I am vastly unequipped for this life.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Until Dawn
The point of me explaining how I felt in the earlier post (that wasn't supposed to be it's own post) was so that you could understand how much I enjoyed this game.
When I was younger, my imagination was wild. Really wild, constant, and vivid. I played outside frequently. I was anything from a wife to a jedi to an explorer. My daydreaming would even creep into my school hours. Maybe as a result, my night dreams were crazy, colorful, and outlandish. As I got older though, dreaming meant something else. Instead of putting myself into every movie I'd seen recently (like an imagination-run fanfic), I'd put myself in the shoes of an astronaut or a detective. Things I wanted to be when I grew up. At school, instead of drifting away into whatever world my brain had recently absorbed, I'd obsessively make lists about what steps to take to reach my career goals and even break those lists down into more lists.
As I got even older, I stopped remembering my dreams at all. I only had nightmares. There was always blood, someone or something (often multiple somethings) trying desperately to kill me. Anything from a powerful being to assasins, to all sorts of unique monsters. These nightmares were still incredibly vivid (too vivid), but very gorey and even enough to scare me awake.
It's rare now that I insert myself into fictitious worlds at all. And, in that case, it only happens at night to help me sleep. The last world I remember "daydreaming" about was Game of Thrones (I would imagine being a second officer to Prince Doran of Dorne and, right now IRL we think he's been killed, so imaginary me - who of course has natural but hidden elemental bending "powers" - and Areo Hotah - the big black guy with the awesome poleax skills - set off alone to destroy the prince's murderers and save Tristane, the heir, in the heart of chaos that is King's landing).
HOWEVER, I'm now controllably obsessed with Until Dawn. It is the perfect game for me because it joins my favorite genre of game (horror) with probably my favorite aspect of recent games (choices that make a difference). Add in amazing graphics, good voice acting, plot twists, fresh takes on villains, and enough GOOD jumpscares and you have the perfect game.
I even think of it during the day, and I can't remember the last time I did that! Don't worry, I've already daydreamed the best, goriest way my character would die and the outfit she'd wear.
When I think of playing this game again, I'm excited for something. Which is SO weird and embarrassing (because it's just a game), but I'm up for feeling alive and having genuine fun.
Medical Update?
I've been feeling very horrible lately. It may be the fact that I went from 300mgXL Bupropion back down to 150mgXL. I did it because I wasn't noticing any depression-related benefits. I'd see spiders everywhere that weren't actually there. I blacked out at one point and completely lost track of time and didn't know where I was when I "came to". I'd get dizzy spells for no reason. There were good things too - like weightloss and even better orgasms, but the weightloss was caused by the induced anorexia. I was never hungry. I had to make myself eat. I remember once that I couldn't even eat more than fries and half a burger. ME!!
Anyway, I went back down to 150mgXL. The benefits just weren't worth the bad side effects. But now this isn't really working at all anymore. I'm gaining a lot of weight back (almost passing back into where I was pre any treatment), I'm absolutely miserable, and it's really hard to orgasm at all again. It's like it's no longer effective.
So I've been feeling pretty horrible. Useless. Waiting to die. Hoping my results are bad news...they're not so far. Blood tests are normal and blue nevus is not cancerous and is, in fact, not a blue nevus. They said it was vasculature-related and also a hemangioma. Which doesn't make sense because those are red to purple, are congenital, only grow on babies, and usually disappear by age 10. So I don't think they know what it is, but it's gone now. Just waiting on the 24-hour urine results now. Those are the most important as far as estimating kidney decline.
This turned into a medical update. Sorry.
It's just kind of hard to explain how I've been feeling. I just wake up and it feels like it's the same day just prolonging itself. I feel very empty and hopeless. But it's not like pre-treatment. At that point, I was ready to and willing to kill myself and actively hoping someone would crash into me or something. I was very sad. Now it's different. I'm not even sad, I'm just empty and over it. Just operating this body while my soul is somewhere else. Going through the motions of being alive and a person. I'm already dead on the inside, basically. That sounds so emo... I don't know. I'm only ever decently excited when I'm with Stephen - especially when we're eating. I'm so hedonistic about it, too. Now I'm eating a lot and all I look forward to is eating more - especially with Stephen. I don't even really look forward to sex anymore! And I used to be very active about that.
It's hard just to get out of bed and it's getting harder to shower every other day. When other people talk to me I just feel like everything I say is stupid and useless and it's just frustrating and headache-inducing to leave my apartment. I see Stephen in less than 2 hours. That should be nice I suppose.
Anyway, I went back down to 150mgXL. The benefits just weren't worth the bad side effects. But now this isn't really working at all anymore. I'm gaining a lot of weight back (almost passing back into where I was pre any treatment), I'm absolutely miserable, and it's really hard to orgasm at all again. It's like it's no longer effective.
So I've been feeling pretty horrible. Useless. Waiting to die. Hoping my results are bad news...they're not so far. Blood tests are normal and blue nevus is not cancerous and is, in fact, not a blue nevus. They said it was vasculature-related and also a hemangioma. Which doesn't make sense because those are red to purple, are congenital, only grow on babies, and usually disappear by age 10. So I don't think they know what it is, but it's gone now. Just waiting on the 24-hour urine results now. Those are the most important as far as estimating kidney decline.
This turned into a medical update. Sorry.
It's just kind of hard to explain how I've been feeling. I just wake up and it feels like it's the same day just prolonging itself. I feel very empty and hopeless. But it's not like pre-treatment. At that point, I was ready to and willing to kill myself and actively hoping someone would crash into me or something. I was very sad. Now it's different. I'm not even sad, I'm just empty and over it. Just operating this body while my soul is somewhere else. Going through the motions of being alive and a person. I'm already dead on the inside, basically. That sounds so emo... I don't know. I'm only ever decently excited when I'm with Stephen - especially when we're eating. I'm so hedonistic about it, too. Now I'm eating a lot and all I look forward to is eating more - especially with Stephen. I don't even really look forward to sex anymore! And I used to be very active about that.
It's hard just to get out of bed and it's getting harder to shower every other day. When other people talk to me I just feel like everything I say is stupid and useless and it's just frustrating and headache-inducing to leave my apartment. I see Stephen in less than 2 hours. That should be nice I suppose.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
I did it.
I did it.
I dropped all my classes last night.
And I already feel a little better. Of course I'm worried out of my mind about paying for things and all the future bad consequences of my choice, but as far as feeling like I'm doing something wrong? No longer.
It took a women's therapy group to realize what was going on.
No one was saying much (there were only 3 of us at the start), and the only other girl who wanted talk time was finished. When it was my turn, I only meant to get some advice on feeling so incredibly lost and overwhelmed. I wondered if it was normal - if it was just beginning of semester madness or something else. Quite quickly, however, more information on my life was necessary, and I tried to sum up everything that was going on.
I already feel overwhelmed and so far behind because I can't afford my textbooks yet because I'm waiting on financial aid that I'm having to do all this petition nonsense to *maybe* get it in the future because I lost it due to missing so many classes because I'm so mentally ill. I feel like a failure of a wife because I can hardly keep the house clean and I rarely make dinner - so what do I even do anyway? Why am I so overwhelmed with nothing? I feel apathetic toward nearly every single thing in my life. Is it the fact that I'm still expirementing with my medication? And on top of it, now I'm really feeling the pressure to have babies before time runs out. I know he didn't mean to rush anything and he said I could maybe go until 35 years old, "but sooner rather than later". If he didn't mean for us to start having kids pretty soon, why would he bring that up now? Why would he start telling me about a kidney team he knows of in Salt Lake?
And then of course there is the usual "Why am I getting a degree at at all? Will I ever be able to work?" It's been my life's dream since I was 5 years old to have a career. The first one being meteorologist, which I find hilarious now because I'm no good at atmospheric science. Let alone chemistry and physics. But now that I can plan for my future it's just like...finish at least one degree, have babies, and begin dying. That's what I expect - though I realize anyone can die at any time.
I digress, I told them everything. And they didn't really know what to do with it at first. One of the girls spoke up about her struggle with finding the right medications for depression. Another girl could relate in that she has a disease (much more visible than mine) that could shorten her lifespan. Those were close enough. Then they all began saying that their struggles alone were hard enough and that I had a lot on my plate.
And there it was.
Oh my gosh, I do have a lot on my plate!
Sometimes I feel like people around me try to ignore my problems because they believe they can't really help with them. They don't know that they do help by being there, and that's enough. But it makes me feel alone and different, so I try to ignore them too. I always noticed that things were harder for me than they were for other people academically. Though I could never pinpoint why. I thought I was like everyone else and that I was just somehow lazy or something. People were always calling me lazy. But I'm very mentally ill. I am very physically ill - and that will only get worse. It's like the ultimate vindication. People kept assuming the worst of my hygiene when I was getting frequent UTIs. They kept assuming the worst when I got bad grades - not that I was incapable, but that I was just being lazy, which hurt my feelings even more because I felt like I was always giving everything I had and still falling short. And I was hard enough on myself. My whole life's goal was to be successful and the best at my chosen career, and I could hardly graduate high school!
This whole time I was comparing myself to "normal" people. And I am not "normal".
Anyway, I just realized that I do need to take a break. And not to be ashamed about that. It's bad timing, but I can't handle whatever is going on right now while trying to go to school at the same pace as "everyone else".
I also realized (as I was going through the appeals process) that I've been going to different schools - not to follow my dreams, but to go wherever I could get aid - because I kept insisting on pushing myself instead of going at my own pace. As a result, I ended up losing aid at every school because of my bad grades. Now, my once-amazing GPA is rubbish and I'm quickly running out of aid. I've just ruined my academic career trying to be like everyone else and ignoring my worsening issues.
I believe in pushing yourself. I believe in pushing through things, but sometimes it's just better to go at your own pace. I can't be too upset that it took me THIS LONG to realize what I was doing. Before, I didn't have a chance of going anywhere without financial aid. Now, going back to a community college with a hard-working husband, I can have a chance. Heck, maybe I can get a job now that I'm not going to school full time and it's not a million bucks a semester (6 credits at UVU is nearly twice as much as 6 credits at SLCC)! I've ruined that too. My resume is junk mostly because of my mental illnesses and me not taking a hint. Though, I was desperate at those times, so I can't blame me for that either.
It's all coming together. It's taken a long time, but I can get an AAS in criminal justice at SLCC in 20 credits and then go for my AAS in mortuary science for thousands of dollars less than getting a bachelors at UVU. And, if I'm understanding my aid right, my pell grants run out in 2 semesters, so I'd never be able to get my bachelors there anyway. I may not have been able to get my associates even.
Anyway, this is just a rough draft plan, but I'm finally able to truly take control over my own education. I don't need to follow the money. That was so stupid, and it took a lot of time to figure it out, but it's better to let go after you've spent a lot of time making a mistake than to continue to waste time making that mistake.
There's also this:
I dropped all my classes last night.
And I already feel a little better. Of course I'm worried out of my mind about paying for things and all the future bad consequences of my choice, but as far as feeling like I'm doing something wrong? No longer.
It took a women's therapy group to realize what was going on.
No one was saying much (there were only 3 of us at the start), and the only other girl who wanted talk time was finished. When it was my turn, I only meant to get some advice on feeling so incredibly lost and overwhelmed. I wondered if it was normal - if it was just beginning of semester madness or something else. Quite quickly, however, more information on my life was necessary, and I tried to sum up everything that was going on.
I already feel overwhelmed and so far behind because I can't afford my textbooks yet because I'm waiting on financial aid that I'm having to do all this petition nonsense to *maybe* get it in the future because I lost it due to missing so many classes because I'm so mentally ill. I feel like a failure of a wife because I can hardly keep the house clean and I rarely make dinner - so what do I even do anyway? Why am I so overwhelmed with nothing? I feel apathetic toward nearly every single thing in my life. Is it the fact that I'm still expirementing with my medication? And on top of it, now I'm really feeling the pressure to have babies before time runs out. I know he didn't mean to rush anything and he said I could maybe go until 35 years old, "but sooner rather than later". If he didn't mean for us to start having kids pretty soon, why would he bring that up now? Why would he start telling me about a kidney team he knows of in Salt Lake?
And then of course there is the usual "Why am I getting a degree at at all? Will I ever be able to work?" It's been my life's dream since I was 5 years old to have a career. The first one being meteorologist, which I find hilarious now because I'm no good at atmospheric science. Let alone chemistry and physics. But now that I can plan for my future it's just like...finish at least one degree, have babies, and begin dying. That's what I expect - though I realize anyone can die at any time.
I digress, I told them everything. And they didn't really know what to do with it at first. One of the girls spoke up about her struggle with finding the right medications for depression. Another girl could relate in that she has a disease (much more visible than mine) that could shorten her lifespan. Those were close enough. Then they all began saying that their struggles alone were hard enough and that I had a lot on my plate.
And there it was.
Oh my gosh, I do have a lot on my plate!
Sometimes I feel like people around me try to ignore my problems because they believe they can't really help with them. They don't know that they do help by being there, and that's enough. But it makes me feel alone and different, so I try to ignore them too. I always noticed that things were harder for me than they were for other people academically. Though I could never pinpoint why. I thought I was like everyone else and that I was just somehow lazy or something. People were always calling me lazy. But I'm very mentally ill. I am very physically ill - and that will only get worse. It's like the ultimate vindication. People kept assuming the worst of my hygiene when I was getting frequent UTIs. They kept assuming the worst when I got bad grades - not that I was incapable, but that I was just being lazy, which hurt my feelings even more because I felt like I was always giving everything I had and still falling short. And I was hard enough on myself. My whole life's goal was to be successful and the best at my chosen career, and I could hardly graduate high school!
This whole time I was comparing myself to "normal" people. And I am not "normal".
Anyway, I just realized that I do need to take a break. And not to be ashamed about that. It's bad timing, but I can't handle whatever is going on right now while trying to go to school at the same pace as "everyone else".
I also realized (as I was going through the appeals process) that I've been going to different schools - not to follow my dreams, but to go wherever I could get aid - because I kept insisting on pushing myself instead of going at my own pace. As a result, I ended up losing aid at every school because of my bad grades. Now, my once-amazing GPA is rubbish and I'm quickly running out of aid. I've just ruined my academic career trying to be like everyone else and ignoring my worsening issues.
I believe in pushing yourself. I believe in pushing through things, but sometimes it's just better to go at your own pace. I can't be too upset that it took me THIS LONG to realize what I was doing. Before, I didn't have a chance of going anywhere without financial aid. Now, going back to a community college with a hard-working husband, I can have a chance. Heck, maybe I can get a job now that I'm not going to school full time and it's not a million bucks a semester (6 credits at UVU is nearly twice as much as 6 credits at SLCC)! I've ruined that too. My resume is junk mostly because of my mental illnesses and me not taking a hint. Though, I was desperate at those times, so I can't blame me for that either.
It's all coming together. It's taken a long time, but I can get an AAS in criminal justice at SLCC in 20 credits and then go for my AAS in mortuary science for thousands of dollars less than getting a bachelors at UVU. And, if I'm understanding my aid right, my pell grants run out in 2 semesters, so I'd never be able to get my bachelors there anyway. I may not have been able to get my associates even.
Anyway, this is just a rough draft plan, but I'm finally able to truly take control over my own education. I don't need to follow the money. That was so stupid, and it took a lot of time to figure it out, but it's better to let go after you've spent a lot of time making a mistake than to continue to waste time making that mistake.
There's also this:
I think it's about time I start blooming. At my own pace.
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