Apologies for being behind on sharing creative things, I’ve gotten busy with work again, so when I get home, I’m doing other things to try to wind down, like get lost in a game or read.
The truth is I’ve been feeling incredibly lonely, lately. I think the events of the past week were more hurtful than I thought. While they highlight how much better I am doing with my reactions and responses, they also reinforce how worthless I feel as a friend…or maybe how incompetent I am about socializing.
First was the chat the other day…I ended up being the only one talking. I figured I was carrying chat in a way, and was a little proud of myself because I was working against the anxiety that comes with being the only one active in a chat, but a few days later I worried that maybe I was talking too much and made everyone leave. Then the troll, who basically tried to put it in everyone’s faces that there was something wrong with them…like bitch I know and I’m trying to fix it. Petty to suggest a single therapist for the shit I got going on, but thanks for thinking I’m more okay than I am haha…not funny though. Then Pa died and reflecting on how it was through his stuff that I learned it’s not bad to be mad at people who deserve it, and I lost two friends over simply using a word. I did not call anyone that word, I just used it. That stung a little (a lot). Then the bad interaction with the customer the other night. Then yesterday, I dared to step out a bit, try to reach out on socials and introduce myself in a couple of new communities, and in both places, I was very nervous, and I wrote too much. And in both places I was the only person who didn’t receive a like or a comment while the others in the comment section did. So I deleted what I wrote and unfollowed.
It all just made me feel really small. I felt embarrassed and ashamed, and all I did was try to match the vibe and energy in places, or keep the energy going, or stand up for myself, or express gratitude over something I realized was actually being helpful, but I’m too stupid to do any of that right, I guess. I just sat in bed and cried. It was a lot different than the other night when I felt strong and safe and secure. But it’s also my norm, most of the time.
I would give anything to find one person this year who I can call a real bonafide friend. Not small talk, but the deep conversations that I miss. I know I’ll have a lot to say at first, but I’ll calm down. I’m a giver, so they can expect a lot of little things like free coffees or surprise tiny stuffies or practical things like “hey the Swiffer pads were two for one, here’s a package for you.” Or maybe to play games with or talk about writing or laugh at memes or just anything. I’m a good listener, too, but sometimes I have to be told to shh…I get excited and forget there’s other people in the room because of the fact that I’m used to being alone or isolated. I’ve been told I’m a good hugger so I can do that too…if I am warned first that it’s coming…I just wish I knew what it was about me that drives people away or turns me into a convenience rather than a commitment. It’s why I settle for just connecting and nothing more. I can’t really keep simple connections, either, and it’s always my fault.
So yeah, I stayed up most of the night. But today was a trip to the doc first to get my eye looked at, and I had a clogged tear duct, it’s not astig at all. When I was 13, I was attacked by a pit bull dog in the face, and it did some damage to the tear duct under my left eye — the one that is causing me to have focus issues and migraines. It’s all caused by my tear duct not providing enough lubrication for the eye to properly focus, as I guess dryness on the outside affects how the eye operates overall. It was an easy but scary repair – he used a very thin tube to go in and essentially flush out my tear duct, and it all came out my nose – it was amazing.
We did a class on Bipolar from a psychological/scientific standpoint, talking about the different chemicals involved, how it doesn’t always have to be genetic. How sleep is both affects and is affected by bipolar, and why SRT is so important. It was a 90 minute course and most of us barely noticed how long it was because the instructor made it so interesting and kept us actively involved in the presentation.
I was sad to find out that my bagel shop was closed, but now that it’s in my head, I’ll make a point to go get one in the future.
I had a fresco style chicken cantina burrito with extra onions at Taco Bell. I just had water with it, nothing fancy.
I did talk to my psych about what to do with how lonely I feel, because it’s overwhelming. It feels like everything I touch in that department just wilts away. She asked me if it comes in waves (like with mood swings), and I said It’s always there, but the overwhelm does come in waves, mostly, with this time was kind of everything that happened this week unexpectedly dogpiling on me, and the final straw was feeling ostracized on socials — not once, but twice in the same night. She gently reminded me to follow the 10-3-2-1 for mood stabilization and sleep hygiene. But she also reminded me that I’m in the middle of some massive changes, and I’m actively feeling the effects of that. As I change and continue growing, there will be people who will not at all grow with me. Unfortunately, I’ve come across a lot of people like that. Online? Communities I was not a part of to begin with. Which is the point, I was introducing myself. But she said no, if rejected, then they are not for me. She also reminded me to keep working on making my house a safe space. She did ask if I needed to stay the night in a safer place and I said no.
Which it didn’t really help, because I jumped straight to gig work and cried the whole time. I came home to take a break and write a post here, but I’m still sitting with this feeling that…no matter what I do, I’m still going to be that person people want to hide away because they’re embarrassed of me, or sweep me under a rug and act like I’m not there, or be nice to me because they feel bad, not because they actually care. I miss my mom. When she died, so did all the love I ever really knew.
So I will keep focusing on my PHP and therapy and making my house a safe space and doing 10-3-2-1…but I did call this. I did say that when things go good, they tend to crash like this.
I also keep asking myself if any of this is something I can control, the social things I mean. Am I doing something wrong or is it really that I just haven’t met the right people? Because 100% of the time, it results in me sitting up in bed with a wet face, and 100% of the time I realize that the people I cried over treated me like a convenience and not commitment. There has got to be something to that.
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(5am on the 7th — cw spoiler for actual abuse being talked about. I can talk about it openly with no problem, but the aftereffects, as noted in the post, aren’t as easy).
I fell asleep with this on my mind. I woke up with it on my mind, and I’m too tired to feel anything because it’s 5am (I’m up to visit the waysay). But I’m noticing this is a thought process that matches my childhood, and there’s something my psych and I talked about that also clearly supports this as old thinking — it’s ingrained to the point to where something in me believes it’s all facts.
These are points I need to bring to my people today:
- Her first question to me was “do you feel like you did anything explicitly wrong in these situations?” My answer for all of them was no. As a matter of fact, I felt like they were honestly non-issues, and in a couple of places, I felt I was completely valid in expressing myself. As in “normal” interactions. The only self-criticism I had that remotely felt valid was that I was nervous or anxious where I didn’t need to be — that, and not realizing I was writing a word wall in a couple of places. (Another comment I wrote that night was wordy as hell, but it got 350+ likes and is still going). If I’m guilty of anything, it’s merely writing too much. Not poor socializing.
- I think my brain is so subconsciously steered toward how lonely I feel (because I really do) that it will turn any social interaction into a bad one, even if I did nothing wrong.
- I say that, because the way I spoke about or to myself yesterday and in this post was exactly how (name a bunch of people from my childhood…or even “those two”) would talk to me. I have to remember I was kept isolated even as a kid, and I was told often how bad I was, and everything was used as an example of that. Adult me has to let that little kid know that I’m not being isolated anymore, that I do have many chances to stand up and out, and there’s no shame in making mistakes on the way. I am still raising myself…even at 47.
- In stepping outside myself this morning, I was able to ask myself where the hurt is coming from, and I remember a very specific time in my childhood: I was seven years old and our dog got out shortly after I took out the trash. I didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t my fault, as one of the parental units left the side gate open and of course our doggo noticed and went on an adventure, because that’s what doggos do when the gate is left open. But I was blamed for it. I was called a waste of God’s skin and they said they didn’t know why He allowed me to be born, and I was beat to unconsciousness for it.
- That wasn’t the only time, just the first. I think it was the moment I started living defensively, or seeing myself through the lens of being broken or bad.
- I did use DBT yesterday, even if it was messy. I had to Stage 1 it, though, because I was so elevated in my thoughts that I was thinking about physically retaliating against myself. The way I did it was separating the extreme negative thoughts from my behaviors by focusing entirely on work and letting myself vent into the void of my car’s interior between orders. It was a necessity, though.
- Then going home and letting myself finish the post and dump it where I could look at it later if I needed to, or if only to document it and let it go.
I also want to note that I didn’t notice any manias or downswings. I think this was purely a self-directed retraumatization. Not intentional, obviously, but definitely self-directed.
I’m starting to feel comfortable in my blog. If I don’t have anyone to confide in, I at least have my blog and my writing. Dumping all of this on a post really helped me get it out of my system enough to sleep. Which it’s 6am, so I need to get my last 2 hours.
