Whatever

feeling_blank_by_kenikio

After last night I am zapped.

I’m tired, but I’m also feeling “blank”.

I don’t really want to be around people today, or talk to people, unless they’re cool with sitting in a room with me and being mostly silent. I’m not depressed or angry or sad or happy or anything, just blank.

Sometimes I wish I was like everyone else just for the sake of the people around me. That way they wouldn’t feel awkward or confused when I suddenly stop talking and just feel like doing nothing and saying nothing. That way I wouldn’t appear aloof or careless. That way when someone smiles or something I’m not forcing it just to appease them.

Today is one of those days. Every ounce of emotion I’m feigning. I’ve learned by now that when people smile at you, they expect you to smile back, so I do that automatically without really caring whether or not I mean it. But today is one of those days where it’s a struggle to even get my automatic reflexes to work.

goatI know it makes me look depressed and everyone wants to be nice to me or whatever, but I’m really not depressed. I’m not sad at all, in fact. Right now, laying in my bed with this computer on my lap, I’m feeling content besides this aching fatigue. I’m not mad at anyone. I’m not sad with anyone. I’m not anything right now besides tired. And most of the tiredness probably comes from the fact that I haven’t eaten more than a few hundred calories each day for the last week and a half. Nor have I been keeping myself hydrated.

I’m not disturbed by this interruptions but I feel like it’s disturbing for everyone else. Even my parents. My mother has gotten used to it since I am her child after all, and I’ve been living with her for twenty years. She knows that when I don’t feel like laughing or smiling or engaging in conversation that I’m having one of those days. So she knows to leave me alone.

I feel like I’m letting people down when I do that, though. I feel like they’re wanting to engage with me and that it’s a bad thing I don’t want to engage with them. But is it really a bad thing?

The more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to say no. This is just how I am. Frequently I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to be around people, and I don’t need to be.

I should also probably eat but after last night, food isn’t appetizing to me at the moment.

alone_in_my_room_by_m0ut0n_addict-d545dxuAt least in my room I’m able to think about this kind of stuff. As soon as I step out of my room door I have to put on a facade and strut around the house like everything is “normal”. I have to strut around in public like all the noise isn’t fucking hammering nails into my head and I have to converse with people like I actually know what I’m doing. I usually fail at that part. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I manage a “hello” or a “how are you doing?” because I know that’s what you’re supposed to do.

It makes me think about jobs. I know I can do the actual job, but could I handle the constant bombardment of people and working with teams and such without feeling like my brain was going to explode? I don’t feel like I could.

If everyone would just talk about photography, books, writing, and technology, I’d never stop talking.

Today I’m not really socially anxious. If I got into a large group of people I could see myself being thoroughly disturbed, but right now I could walk into a grocery store or be out doing whatever and my anxiety wouldn’t impede me as much as this lack of “feeling” would. I just wouldn’t want to even make attempts at speaking like I usually would try to.

smallgroupWhen I’m in a group, I like listening to people talk. I don’t really see a reason to get involved unless they’re talking about something interesting like the categories mentioned above (ha). I don’t even know when I’m supposed to talk in a group of four or five. Anything larger than me and two other people confuses me.

Three people also confuses me, but I’ve been learning to manage it a little better. I can weasel my way into the conversation. I might do it via random ass sentences, but hey, at least I’m involved right? The social anxiety part comes in when I have to constantly analyze whether what I said made sense to them or was relevant. Then I wonder if it was stupid. Then I try to judge the look on their faces but I don’t know if what I’m seeing is what is right.

In a larger group, the only way I know when I’ve been quiet too long and people are wondering what’s wrong with me, is when they all stare glancing in my direction. I’ve learned to associate that with “shit, you’re supposed to say something”.

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My Dream Shirt

But what am I supposed to say? If we’re analyzing a book, I don’t know how to put my thoughts in words. It’s like my entire brain goes blank. If we’re supposed to say our opinions it’s equally as hard to verbalize my thoughts. Usually I end up sounding arrogant or completely jumbled. They have to give me several interpretations of what I’m trying to say so I can choose which one is right. Social “chit-chat”? Forget it. I don’t understand an ounce of it. It’s pointless. If you’re not talking about something worth talking about, then why say anything at all?

Then the social anxiety comes in. Then I freak out about how they see me. I wonder if they think I’m stupid–that’s a huge fear of mine. I think it came from all the teachers back in elementary school who were always chastising me for learning the way I learn and speaking the way I speak. i think they thought I was stupid.

Besides the whole, reading at high school level in elementary. I think they thought I was really stupid but that I was a good reader.

I remember I hated when I had to speak out loud because they always barked at me for speaking too quietly. One teacher kept interrupting me every third or fourth word to boom “a little louder, please”.

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That was harassment, I swear it was. By middle school and High School, the response in my head to them was “open your fucking ears”.

That’s probably part of the reason why I get anxious about talking. I’m someone who genuinely likes to talk (about photography, books, writing) but I find it too difficult to relate to other people. I don’t feel connected to the human race, I really don’t. When I was kid I was pretty sure aliens dropped me off from another planet.

As an adult, I 100% convinced aliens dropped me off from another planet.

I’m thankful that even though my boyfriend and I are complete opposites, at least we have fun together. He probably doesn’t understand me just like everyone else in the world but it’s okay because he kind of tries. Most people don’t. We’ve had some pretty extensive conversations about the world so that’s another plus. I have to be able to have those kind of conversations with people because that’s what I like. I like talking about stupidity and I like being opinionated.

Things I like are easier to talk about. Things I don’t like? I’m at a loss. What am I supposed to say? Why should I have an opinion on it in the first place?

Over the years I think I’ve been through enough that I should have a Ph.D in faking it. I try and be functional because if I’m not . . . then . . . what the fuck am I going do? I don’t really have any other option.

I feel like a child trapped under the expectations of an adult. By now I should be able to converse. I should understand the basics of socialization and I should want to get out there and start doing things. I feel like a four year old still going through a developmental process but not making as much progress as I should.

80% of me likes solitude and doesn’t care about talking or being involved in anything but my interests.

20% of me enjoys talking and gets frustrated that all of me can’t do it correctly.

Whatever.

 

 

 

 

 

Spaghetti And MeatBugs Rant

casual woman browsing on laptop

I just keep posting and posting and posting, I can’t stop.

I think I need to focus my attention on some other writing projects.

But first:

I’m tired as shit and I’m very irritated. 

As if you didn’t already know.

Today has been alright. I’ve been out a lot this week and it’s really drained me. I’ve only been getting four or five hours of sleep each night and I haven’t really been eating or drinking anything, which makes me even more tired.

This is what happens when I have a “busy” schedule. And I don’t even technically have a busy schedule. All I’ve been doing is picking up children from school and maybe helping with homework and it’s only for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

But getting up and driving takes a lot of effort out of me. Being “responsible” for two more bodies outside of my own also takes a lot of effort out of me. I can barely take care of myself.

she20will20not20eat20all20about20eating20disorders_3So when there’s a lot going on in my outside world, my inside world is ignored and I’m so focused on trying to reduce my stress response that I forget about myself. I don’t eat–I don’t really want to–I don’t think anything, and it makes it easier to do both because we don’t have a lot of food in the house. We barely have any, actually. This happens at the beginning of month after my mother pays rent.

And when I get stressed and things don’t go in a routine way and I know I might be forced to use my own shitty judgement or improvise for some reason, that puts more stress on my shoulders. I don’t handle stress well. I need to know things before I do them. I need to know I have a little bit of control and if it’s not done in a routine manner well that’s the end of the world for me. I need my routine. I’ve been addicted to routine ever since I was little.

I’m a leg bouncer. It bounces constantly throughout the day but when it goes quickly like it’s doing right now, I know I’ve reached my stress threshold. Which is probably about negative fifty. My stress threshold is extremely low.

I’m a rocker. When my muscles in my legs can’t take it anymore and I can’t ignore that cramp feeling, I rock. It relaxes me and I’ve actually almost fallen asleep doing it. I try not to do it in public because rocking back and forth is the textbook “Crazy person” thing. They should try it sometimes, maybe they wouldn’t be so stressed.

I’m also a teeth clencher. It really, really hurts my jaw. I do it when I sleep sometimes (not as often as I used to) and I do when without even knowing it, not until the pain starts radiating. I also do it when I’m stressed. Right now I have to keep opening my jaw and thinking about it so I don’t clench it anymore. My teeth are killing me.

get-excited-cause-its-gonna-get-weirdWhen I get stressed, things get weird. That’s why my brain has created so many coping mechanisms for me.

*Warning, slightly gross alert* 

When I don’t drink enough water I get really dehydrated. I also have a nose problem. What does that mean? I have overactive mucus membranes. It’s never been “diagnosed” but I mean it’s pretty easy to tell, I can feel it constantly at the base of the opening where my nose meets my mouth. Nothing is coming from my throat, it’s all from the back of my nose. I did some research on it a while ago.

I’m still going to ask a doctor the next time I see one.

At any rate, when I don’t drink enough water and especially in the winter (cold winds, I’m assuming), my nose can get really dry and I’ve got a few nose bleeds from it. Pretty average issue.

paranoia-130613Except when I’m stressed and paranoid about everything.

I try to spit out as much of it as I can because it gets really annoying festering back there. This morning I was trying to clear out my sinuses both ways and then started brushing my teeth and suddenly there was blood in the sink. I thought maybe I’d nicked my gum or something but I checked everywhere, that’s not where it was coming from.

I hadn’t hacked up anything from my throat or lungs but that’s where my brain went.

. . .

I tried typing just now why I’m so terrified of things like that–obviously it’s indicators of bad things like a pulmonary embolism–but I can’t type about those kind of things specifically without being convinced it’s going to happen to me, particularly when I’m running on very little sleep and very little energy and a lot of stress.

At any rate, that was sign number one. 

mens-duster-coat
Duster Jacket. 

Sign number two? This evening when I was in the kitchen actually making a small bowl of yesterday’s spaghetti I saw a body leaning over in my peripheral vision and I screamed and faced it and saw it was just my father’s duster and hat hanging on the wall. I legit saw a face and a head. I don’t scream often, not unless there’s a legitimate reason to.

I asked him if it was necessary to have that thing there and he just laughed. That was sign number two.

It’s just telling me something bad is going to happen. That’s what I felt. 

So I continued on with my night. I poured some water and I looked into the cup and I saw little black things floating in it.

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You see, my father has memory problems. He also collects rain water in jugs when it rains so he can water our indoor plants with it. One day a week or so back, he put a jug in the fridge thinking it was store bought water and without his glasses didn’t see the black chunks floating around in it. Apparently neither did I when I poured myself some and drank it.

So I’ve been paranoid about that happening again. I poured three glasses of water in two different cups tonight and all three came out with black shit in it. I asked my mother if she’d bought the water and put it in the fridge earlier, and she said yes, that’s why I thought it was safe to drink. Apparently not. My father didn’t see anything floating in the jug, even with his glasses, but I did. That was sign number three. 

As soon as I entered the kitchen from showing him the jug of water and being thoroughly confused, sign number four scuttled across the floor. Some kind of cricket looking bug that wasn’t a cricket. It was rounded but with a small body and really long antenna. It wasn’t a cockroach, trust me.

At this point I’m terrified. That bug just solidified everything for me. It feels like it just brings bad things with it and it crossed my path right when I was entering the kitchen. Like it timed it.

So I snatched my bowl out of the microwave and came back to my room already terrified that . . . shit, I can’t even type it out without worrying it’s actually going to happen. So scratch that. Ignore it.

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I came back to my room and started watching more YouTube, the thing that numbs my mind the greatest, but every time I took a bite of the spaghetti it felt like that bug was in my mouth. I had to look at the food to make sure it wasn’t made of bugs.

It wasn’t very hot, but somehow one of the bites warmed the bottom part of my jaw and it felt like someone put something in it, like tampered with it. I thought I was poisoned for a second but that can’t be right. I didn’t ever leave my bowl by itself, I don’t think, and who is going to poison me? Right? Definitely sign number five. 

Five signs? Fuck that, I need to be careful where I step. Something might blow my head off.

So there’s a half eaten bowl of spaghetti sitting next to me. I ate ice cubes instead.

I ate a few tater tots, a couple slices of smoked sausage and some french fries. That’s what I ate today.

I honestly don’t want to eat anything at this moment. I don’t even feel comfortable leaving my room.

And this is why I try not to stress myself out. 

My legs are cramping. This is ridiculous. I’m so fucking tired but if I go to sleep I feel like something is going to happen. Too many signs tonight.

Looks like I’m in for another night of staying awake until my body collapses from pure exhaustion and my brain is too beat up to do anything about it.

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This Friday I don’t want to see anyone and I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’m just going to sleep. And when I wake up, I’m going to go online. And no one better say one fucking word to me.