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Monday, 06 June 2016 04:10

Am I The Only One?

 

This question, and many others, have plagued me for quite some time. Yet, I cant help but think to myself maybe (just maybe) I'm not the only one? 

I know I'm not the only one who suffers from a mental illness, or a disorder. While this is true, I cannot help but wonder is there anyone else out there who isolates themselves from others, or keeps people at a distance in attempt to save them from having to deal with your issues? 

Or, do things like Stays Single, Keeping Family and Friends at a Distance, Avoids public places and holiday events from being petrified to be around anyone in the fear of being judged or stigmatized, along with being consumed with fear of being triggered, frustrated, or irritated? Which only throws you into (what seems like) an endless downward spiral of uncontrollable thoughts and emotions where there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. Which can last from hours on end, if not a couple of days. 

Yet, at the same time, wanting SO BAD for someone to talk to, or a friend to turn to, who will accept you, be you're friend through thick and thin? 

When, In fact, all you can find is the saddening comfort of solitude and the deafening quiet of the four walls you call home? Or, the awkward silence from those who say they are your friend when you turn to them for help. Or worse, them avoiding you like you were the plague?

 

While most of this happens in my own life. I can't even begin to put into words how terribly lonely it all can be. As I have spent an obscene amount of time isolated and alone. 


I often feel as if I'm trapped in a self made solitary confinement with no door on either wall. And the messed up part of it all is? I do this all to myself. 

Issues such as bipolar/ ptsd can indeed be difficult to handle for others who don't know, or for that matter don't want to know about them. Yet, it would simply be a breath of fresh air to actually have a friend to open up and communicate with. Someone who not only is nonjudgmental and accepting, but also is able to see past the mental illness and see a person, not just the illness/ disorder itself. 

Yet, day in and day out, “the mask” is put on. For no one see's the depressed lonely person in front of them. They simply see the mask. While the face hidden behind the facade weeps and craves for genuine human interaction.

Was just curious if anyone else out there goes through the same thing or am I the only one?

As I ask that question, many more bombard me as I bring this to a close. ..... Is there really anything wrong with me? Is it really what some of my old friends (who are no longer my friend, mind you) said? That it's all in my head. Am I making it all up or making excuses? I mean, I've known for a long time, after being hit by a vehicle at age 7 (and dying in the process), that I was different from others around me. Yet, if there is nothing wrong with me, why do I stay so isolated, so secluded away from society? Why can't I walk past my front door and go to the store to get food and supplies? Or yet, have a relationship or keep friends? 

So many questions, I know. Yet, I can't help but sit here and wonder. Am I making myself out to be worse then it is? Which is why I'm here writing this now, wondering, is there anyone else out there that goes through the same things? Or is it all a figment of my imaginations run rampant in my head? I'm sitting here driving myself crazy, stressing, day in and day out wondering all this.

 

Published in Anxiety Articles
Sunday, 15 September 2013 15:46

Not fair.

My parents and I have been too close for too long. I believe it's time for me to move out for good, even though I will really miss my mom. But I have to get away from my father before I start screaming at him, again.

EVERY Sunday morning he does the same thing. I get up to go put my coffee on, but he's at the kitchen table at the computer. He's always on the computer and I know exactly what he's doing but I don't say anything. But when I get up and walk into the kitchen, he hurries up to the bathroom and takes a shower. This happens every single Sunday morning. I have never been able to have my breakfast without the hiss of the shower in the background. The hissing sound makes me sick to my stomach.

Then after he's done, he proceeds to make himself the smelliest lunches ever. This morning he microwaved some cheese filled hot dogs. That's exactly what I want to smell while I try to drink my coffee *sarcasm*

Don't you think I have a reasonable arguement to be mad?! 

Then my parents are like "You can't make your father uncomfortable in his own home!" BUT IT'S OKAY FOR HIM TO MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE?! 

I NEED TO GET OUT ASAP. I NEED TO MOVE AWAY. I want to move across the country and out West and away from all this injustice. 

But for right now I'm going to drink my coffee that's been infused with the stench of cheesey microwave hot dogs.

As long as I'm around my father, I will never have peace of mind. He's a total brainless loser.

Sorry this is more of complaining that actual anxiety issues, but I guess it's all many reasons as to why I have anxiety!!!!

Published in Diary
Friday, 13 September 2013 23:55

Getting worse.

I'm spending yet another night alone in my room because I cannot stand being around my father.

I want to be with my mom watching tv or just hanging out. But whenever my dad gets home from work I have to lock myself in my room because if I stay around him a huge arguement will erupt because he bothers me so much. I tell him to take off his jingly necklace but he won't. I tell him to walk lighter but he won't. I tell him to turn off the overhead lights but he won't. They think I'm the one with the problem because everything he does bothers, but I truly believe it's him and they can't see that.

No normal person wear jingly jewelry ALL THE TIME. No one normal walks like a herd of elephants. There's no reason to keep overhead lights on constantly, even into long hours of the night. There's no reason to blast the volume on the televsion.

My father does not know the meaning of "quiet". He just makes as much noise as possible and then says I'm wrong when I say he's too noisey.

So here I am again all alone in my room wish anxiety and depression washing over me because I hate being alone but I hate my father. I wish it was just my mom and I. She deserves better anyhow because she works like a slave for him - packing his lunch every night for work, washing and ironing all his clothes, DRIVING HIM AROUND TO PLACES, waiting on him hand and foot when he's home (she cooks all the meals.. she will even go to the kitchen to get him a snack and a drink if he's watching sports). She never complains, but I can see in her face that she is getting sick of doing everything for him. He doesn't work a well paying job, my mom can't work because of disability (DEPRESSION), and I'm only a student.  He does nothing to try to get a better job. They're lived in apartments their whole lives, we've never had a home, we just got done paying off a car so at least we own a car... but my parents are almost 60 and they have no savings, they own no property except a car.

One day I broke down to her and told her how much she deserves better and she started crying with me. My mom has been through so much in her life and had to work hard to just get by. My father was handed everything and treated like a little kid his whole life. He can't help himself for anything. My mom shouldn't be catering to him. It's just another reason I hate him.

I wish they would get a divorce and he could be gone, but idk what my mom would do because she has nothing. I mean we have furniture and food and clothes and stuff like that, but she doesn't own a home, she doesn't have savings... 

I just hope that when I'm done with college I'll get a good paying job and hopefully get married to a man the same as me and we can help my mom out. I want to give her everything because she deserves it. She's the greatest person in this world to me. She's everything to me. I hate seeing her act as a slave to someone who is too old to be acting like a child.

Published in Diary
Sunday, 25 August 2013 21:07

Entry #1? idk

When I was 6 years old, I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression. My elementary school and middle school years were all tourture for me (thats what my mom said I said it was like), but i can barely remember it.

I'm surrently a junior in high school, and although my depression is getting better (probably because I have genuine friends now), my anxiety is still horrible. I've been asking my mom to get me anxiety medication, but she keeps fighting me on it. She'll say "well you've been fine the last two years of high school" "I don't want you dopped up on pills all the time" "you don't want to gain weight from the side-effect, do you?" or other things. But I need the medication, I've always know that I do. I need it so I can raise my hand in class and say something. or to go up and give a presentation. I need it to talk to my teacher one on one. I need it to walk down the halls without a friend right next to me. I need it so I can be okay with someone brushing my back every once in a while in the halls. Or so that I can carry a purse instead of a backpack 24/7. I need it so I can ask for help. I need it for everything.

The only time she ever said I should go on medication was when it effected her life. I had an anxiety attack in the car and it was horrible but all she did was tell me I'm selfish and that I'm shitty person. The next day she said I should go on anxiety medication. Not because I need it to do simple tasks, but because she doesn't want me to "make a scene" again.

The only personin my family who seems to understand just  little bit of what I go through is my dad. He's incredibly shy, unless he's around his sister (who's like his best friend), or unless he's one on one with me, or after he's had a beer or two. My mom is very uptight, conservative, and almost too assertive. My younger brother is loud and obnoxious to the point where he makes people look at him (which freaks me out because then I feel like everyone is staring at us). My Dad's side of the family is really relaxed and fun. We're loud, but mostly because we're laughing. I feel so comfortable around them that I actually talk and make jokes and smile. My mom's side of the family is extremely judgemental, crtical, old-fashioned, and nothing like me. (unfortunately) They all live in our area, and my mom is super close with all of them (my 2 aunts and my grandma), so we go out to dinner or things all the time. Since I was a kid, I've known that I can never truely be myself around them, and recently I realized it would just be better to become mute around them. I'd rather be judge for being mute and "anti-social" than for anything that I say. 

My friends are very understanding. My friends are more on the quiet side, but when we're all together we're loud and laughing. My two best friends and I are so close that we share everything, and have "deep" conversations at 3 in the morning. My boyfriend is another one of my best friends. I've let all three of them tear down my walls, and they all have complete access to me. I'm not afraid of what they'll think, or of being judged around them. Which is a big deal because I always used to feel that way around people. And we're able to tell each other if something about them is bothering us. Which is huge for me, because in past friendships, I would keep quiet about anything that bothered me. I think I did it to avoid conflict, because I thought that conflict would mean that I would lose a friend.

I don't really know where I was going with this but I guess its a good first diary entry?

Published in Diary
Thursday, 09 May 2013 07:24

Death sucks

So this week my mother sends me a email saying my dads long time friend has passed away at the age of 87, I know my dad was very good friends with him and small group of friends who formed a group called the Harmony Lake Group, a bunch of artists who had been friends since art school, whos friendship has spaned 30+ years, painting togeter and enjoying eachothers company.

I know this will effect my dad, last time someone died near him he started saying things like "I won't be around long" and "if you want anything you better ask for it now" he was like that for weeks, His anxiaty is my anxiaty, I love my family a lot, they mean the world to me, I was lucky to have a great upbringing and a loving family, I am the youngest of three brothers, my two older brothers are marryed and have children, and my folks are retired.

I feel left out sometimes being single for the last three years, I want to have a family but finding the right girl has not happened yet, I am torn between wanting to have my folks at my wedding and maybe even have them baby sit and forcing myself to find the wrong person to spend my life with just to reach that goal.

I hope my dad is ok

Published in Diary
Monday, 30 November -0001 00:00

I Am Me, But Who Is Me?

I hate talking about myself

Usually when I do i find anything to slip past the situation

I have a troubled past amongst many others and more then three quarters of the worlds population

Mine consists of rape on numerous occasions that consisted of men and women, both old and young, by people I thought i could trust who had either sold me, used me, or gave me to someone else

Physical and emotional abuse from my peers and those elders we were taught to respect

Growing up i have met gay people, they were either disowned, beaten or killed. I don't really understand what it's like to remember the faces like many others do when they lose friends or family, for it didn't take long before even in my dreams, their faces became blurs, but the events still find it's way back into my mind.

I choose to care for those around me, not to be the kind soul or gental hearted person that wants to save the world. No i choose to care, because I can at least make someones life that much better just by smiling or doing a simple act of kindness. It isn't so hard, but it isn't done often enough.

I choose to put others before myself, because i have a habit of disreguarding myself and it is easier to focus on others problems then my own. I don't know how many times i had to take credit for a crime I never commited. I know i am going about it all wrong, but in the moment, even though your mind tells you to just tell the truth and all will be alright, maybe there will be a strain in trust or the relationship someway, somehow, my meart chooses to cover it up in hopes the person doesn't get upset with me and chooses to stay my friend. Sad because the reality of it just makes me a loser in many ways.

In Elementary school i was a bright kid, i could have accomplished so much, but i chose to dumb myself down in hopes of having the bullies back off and everyone else stop taking advantage of me. I guess i didn't realize until after i graduated high school and having helped so many others graduate and go to college that if i had focused on myself and just got my work done normally i could have actually gotten to a good college and escape these awful people that i would never have to see again.

I have a mother who cares and loves me with all her heart, but i can't give a single phone call once a day, instead it seems i can't wait for the conversation to end after three minutes and call once either once every couple of days and sometimes a week.

I have a father who doesn't need to be in my life, but tries. Our conversations consist of the "Hellos" and "How was your day" followed with a "be safe, I love you" short and not even a minute long. nothing straining the relationship just my own sense of time as though i have something better to do than talk to the man who has made an effort to be in my life.

I am married to a man I used to be unable to stand. Met in high school, became friends after my bestfriend had moved in with him. They hung out everywhere and a bit of envy set in for the one person keeping me sane in my life was taken from me, although it sounds silly, it is still how i felt. Now we are best of friends and married as equals, free to flirt and do what ever with whoever. It sounds like the perfect relationship, when it isn't a relationship at all. Who would have thought my first marriage was without the love you'd see in the movies, it is more a relationship of siblings than lovers. Sad really, it is the only relationship i've ever known other than being used as a sexual object for anyone to use, because maybe just maybe it's all i am actually good for.

What am i good at, i'm not sure, I really don't know, I am good at talking to people and making friends, actually holding the conversation or keeping interst i am not too good at and actually keeping a friendship that lasts more than a few days is close to impossible considering no one has "time" for anything. Work, school, volunteer, family, friends, etc. there is always something I have to do, although this truly is not the case, i just tend to find staring at the four walls of my bedroom more entertaining than attempting to embarress myself anymroe than i should.

I can't sleep at night, there are unwanted memories that like to slither their way into them. I am terrified to sleep. I barely take my small naps just so i don't have to dream. just darkness, somewhere i find comfort. unhealthy, but it's what gets me through each and every day i suppose.

Published in Anxiety General Blog

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