I’ll Offend (Journal#042)

UPDATE: Well, I already feel guilty for this post. I wondered, would I have been so hurt if his gf wasn’t giving him this confirmation of his opinion of me? (She is a psychologist who studies schizophrenia.) If I picture him alone coming up with all of this, my anger vanishes. (Or perhaps writing it out helped a lot.)

But he is a sad person. He is on the brink of major, major life changes. If he wants to spend some time trying to “help” me get on the right track, oh well. I don’t wish him ill. I don’t want him to quit exercising and drink too much. I don’t want him to be back in an abusive relatonship. I don’t think poorly of his gf and I hope they stay together if they continue to make each other happy.

And if she WAS involved in confirming his opinions about me, well she wouldn’t be the first ill-informed doctor out there, believe me. (I’ve actually had a doctor of internal medicine suggest to me that I raise or lower my dose of Lexapro daily depending on how I’m feeling!!!!! I thankfully had already researched the drug enough to know a STEADY amount in the bloodstream is rather vital. But my point is, people are just human. They certainly don’t know everything. Even when they say it with AUTHORITY and like it is absolute truth. No. You’re just another, fallible human, thinking we know a lot about a lot when really we know a little about a little.

But I do not wish you ill and I am not dead for you. I don’t trust you right now, but I’ll try to ignore the bad, take the good.

Bloody hell I wish I could get some fucking SLEEP someday!$&@!$&@ And I’m pretty convinced the thing on my tongue is actually Death. I have yet to make the necessary dental appointment to have it examined. I’ll have to make more calls tomorrow.

Anyway, the original post follows:

——————-

1. I could buy a plane ticket tomorrow. No, I can’t. I have no travel visa. I could start the process to apply for a travel visa.

2. Where would I go? It would have to be someplace with free health care. Or, a place where I can just work on a farm until I die of whatever comes along.

3. Why was I born with allergies to plants and animals?

4. What will I die from? Will I die from ‘old age’? Could I possibly make it that long?

5. Will I ever live the life I grew up expecting to provide for my own grandchildren?

4. Will it be from disease? From within my own body or contracted from outside? Will it be suicide? Will I be fatally struck by a car tomorrow?

6. (Yes, six.) Will I always be a failure to my family? Will there ever be a day where I have succeeded? That would look like happy and independent.

7. Well fuck you, by the way (not you the reader). You can take your glorious opinion of me as a failure of a human being and burden to all mankind and shove it in your ear. That would be painful. Stop and think about it. Your eardrum would be damaged, at the very least.

8. If talking with you makes me feel that me dead or run permanently and anonymously away is the ONLY option, then why would I ever talk with you again?

9. You lost your sister. This is the first time it has ever happened but it happened.

10. Is it possible to run away to another country without a soul being able to trace where you have gone?

11. Is there just one way I can help the world before I am dead?

12. You are moving here shortly and will be working in the same city as me, close by, ironically.

13. But I won’t be there. Not for you. Perhaps not at all.

13. Some of what you told me is correct. Painful to hear, of course, but necessary. Motivating. Driving. A very different way of viewing a very shit thought pattern in myself and very shit choices I repeatedly make.

14. There will be change.

15. I just wish to God there was some way of protecting my parents. WHY does my mom have to be a feeler? WHY does she have to worry and care so much about us all.

16. Any choice I make now will hurt her. If I run anonymously, she’d be hysterical. Even if she knew where I ran, she’d be beside herself with worry all over again. Even if I just ran to live with different relatives.

17. But I wouldn’t, would I. That wasn’t a card in this deck. This is a Changed deck and family isn’t part of it.

18. Or you aren’t part of it but I put their cards back in.

19. And just how long have you been harboring this opinion of me? [This morning’s lecture was far too long to repeat. At least I didn’t cry this time. The room slanted again so I know I was under a great deal of stress but I wasn’t going to FUCKING cry this time.

You have the opinion that I have been coddled, taken care of, and “enabled” by EVERYONE AROUND ME EVER SINCE 2005, when I was incorrectly diagnosed Aspergers, which doesn’t even exist now, and even if I did have it, it would be at 1%.

Everything since then is me convincing myself and others that I’m helpless and everyone must do everything for me. My parents, my mom in particular, my ex husband. All enablers. All for the lies spun in my head for things I don’t have and I just act helpless because of believing in this so much.

My real diagnosis is Anxiety problems, and motivation problems, and having been enabled for so long.

You believe this? You want me to believe it? Fine. Yes, the diagnosis were wrong all along. Haha, the joke’s on me. Only fooling, everybody. I’m really totally average, completely capable of getting up, getting to work on time, cooking, cleaning, friendship, relationship, apartment. Oh hell, my own house. My own schedule, workout, work, sustain myself, it’s not hard, everyone has to do it.

In fact, the ONLY reason I haven’t easily made this my life yet is because I have no reason to, since my parents don’t mind me living there and I like being near them.

Once I realize that’s not an option, I’ll have my own house, steady career, take classes on the side, do my chores, have pets, friends, parties, adventures, get married again, raise kids, be active in the community.

And he mentioned CBT is all I need to accomplish this cease of my negative self talk and oh all the lies we’ve believed for so long now.

(BTW interesting how suddenly he knew of the existence of CBT, so obviously it was his girlfriend saying this to him. Obviously I didn’t pass her Aspie detector in the whole 5 hours we’ve spent together. So obviously that means it’s all been a big fuck up.

Oh yeah, and why didn’t I pass the Aspie detector? Because I feel guilt so often at slowing people down when they’re in a hurry, so I didn’t read the food bar label before I bought it, and it turned out to contain lactose so I couldn’t eat it in the end. So I didn’t buy food when we went to Walgreens for me to get some Zyrtec and pee and it never crossed my mind to also buy food because that wasn’t the stated purpose of the stop. I was shocked to find they had all bought some food, but am extremely used to being rushed along (um, by YOU, duh) so of course I wasn’t going to make a fuss about going back in for me to get food, although I did throw it out there but no one said it was okay for me to do, so I got in the car.

But since I can feel empathy, guilt for burdening others, whatever. Well nobody on the autistic spectrum can do THAT.

You know what? Keep your opinions to yourself next time, how about. Although maybe the Changes are necessary.

Complete. Meltdown. (Journal#041)

I had a complete meltdown tonight. I’m still not sure when I’ll stop crying, because my blood sugar is out of wack and it makes me very emotionally unstable. Every sensation in my body is off right now. It’s very hard to calm down.

I will explain what happened shortly, adding to this post once I’m done gettingv ready for bed.

***** Okay, I’m back.

I’m in bed, fairly sick to my stomach, with all the blankets on me and and my special, fuzzy one wrapped around me.

It was a wonderful day. It was my grandpa’s service and memorial today, and everything was so well done. The cemetery grounds are beautiful, the service was beautiful. The words were beautiful, and I’m very glad I went to that part after all. The memorial itself was a bit more chaotic but I got into the rhythm and I loved listening to all my relatives, including some I didn’t know I had. Everything was very well done and moving and I learned so many wonderful things about my grandpa.

The seed of my meltdown started there, where there was no “real” food I could eat for lunch or dinner (we stayed until very late). I ate a lot of sugar, grease, and starch. Then I saw the hummus at the end and used potato chips to dip into it (all other scoopers had gluten). I think I ate half or more of the hummus by myself, trying to salvage things. But it didn’t work. Oh yeah, just before that they had surprised me by saying they bought this box of gf cookies just for me! They opened them then and I felt it respectful to eat them. I had three. (Normally I would eat only 1. Two would be pushing it, and is basically suicide if I haven’t had “real” food first!) That’s on top of two chocolate-macadamia things and 1 sugared chocolate cherry sweet thing I’d already eaten earlier in the day!! Oh my god, no wonder.

Anyway, I had a HUGE meltdown tonight. I’m actually so much calmer now, but still feel sick to my stomach.

It happened after we’d made it back to my brother’s place (where I’ve been staying these few nights), and me, my dad, my brother and his girlfriend had all settled and were just chatting and resting and my dad was telling lots of amazing stories.

It was getting late and I don’t know how it happened but I started to complain. Sugar makes my world look black. I complained about my life and work. Mostly about how work is affecting my life. My brother reminded me of his earlier advice to look for a new job. (Why haven’t I kept at that?)

Then, I think he asked me what I wanted to do, or was interested in? I said one thought I’d had was to go back to school. He is very practical and pointed out that that’s not realistic without a job. I should get a job, a way of living in place, then take night classes or whatever.

I said I was hoping to apply to scholarships all over the nation and that I’d only go to school if I could get the scholarships, since I know I can’t balance a full time job and class/es on the side (I’ve tried before).

He pointed out that I’d already had the chance to be a full time student and that boat has sailed. This is when my meltdown started so I don’t remember the order of the rest of this too clearly.

I know he said I needed to focus instead on getting a job and setting up a life where I am supporting myself fully and not depending on any help from others (such as Mom and Dad, or like how I’m currently living with an aunt & uncle).

I’m missing something important that came before that. Because when he said this part, I’d already given up all hope of ever, ever bein able to do this, felt like a terrible burden, and wanted to run from my aunt and uncle’s place when I get back, just run away and break all contact with my family and just let myself die.

At some point, I was sobbing and saying how I’m not living in a structures-enough life. I can’t structure my own time and no one is helping me (did I add the more negative thoughts to that?).

Hmmm I’m so confused about the order of all this. I’m leaving out so much.

I know I tried to explain how I just don’t have that internal drive/motivation/whatever that other people, such as himself, have. I don’t have that, I never have, I never will. I tried to explain how much my TaskRabbit is helping me by helping me to get up on work mornings. How that’s the sort of thing I just don’t have internally, and will have to seek externally. And if I’m not allowed to ask for help, I don’t care, I’ll pay for it. Whatever it takes, but I wish people would quit expecting it to magically appear from within me because it ISN’T IN THERE.

I cried about the lack of structure in my current life. I cried about the upcoming move of my company and how I’m expected to somehow organize it and I want to have quit my job before then. (Ooooooohhhhhhhh. You know, I only just put that together AFTER typing out the word “ORGANIZE”. OMFG no wonder I’m so afraid of this move!!!!!!! ¬†I’ve been told that I’m supposed to organize the whole office and the basement stuff for this move!!!!! Shit! And I’ve been stressing my fucking MIND over this! What a joke!!!!

You know what? I don’t need to explain any more about the meltdown or my depression or my job or anything. FUCK someone for ever thinking I’d be organizing for a move. Myself, maybe! Yes. FUCK myself for not seeing this for what it was all along. How much stress, worry, anxiety, depression, and hopelessness I’ve been experiencing, worsening every day that brings me closer to this move.

Nothing else is even relevant anymore. This has all boiled down to the single expectation I was allowing on myself for this move.

I have literally been able to picture the end of my life over this overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and dread and I didn’t even know what it was stemming from. I thought I must be slipping back to a terrible depression / who cares!!!!! It’s no longer relevant.

I’m already feeling so much relief now that I’m picturing a big FUCK YOU to the task itself. There’s no chance in hell I’m going to be a part of it.

OMFG These memories are coming back. I had forgotten. You should have SEEN me trying to pack up my dorm rooms. Hilarious joke. My mom and roommate did it the first year while I.

Holy fuck. First year college when I agreed to switch rooms with someone across the hall. I had this HUGE shutdown partway through. I couldn’t think or move or function or speak. I finally went to a dark place down the hall and stayed and let other people move my stuff.

((Two friends packed and shipped up all my stuff after 2nd year college, but that might not count since I was already back home with Mental breakdown Number 1.))

You should have SEEN my childhood bedroom. Or my apartment. You want me to organize this move?! It’s such a JOKE! Why didn’t I realize the word “organize” from the start?!?!?! God this could have saved me a couple months of spiraling down farther and farther.

You know what it’s time for? It’s time for me to do a Topic post on a phrase called “EXECUTIVE FUNCTIONING” (not tonight).

Just wow. My mind is blown. How could I have MISSED this this whoooole time?! God I have been SO STRESSED. SO FULL OF LOOMING DARKNESS AND DREAD.

I’m so thankful for this meltdown. Anyway, through sobs and shaking and sobbing and shaking, the only “rational” conclusion I could come up with by the end of the conversation was that tomorrow, I will locate the study materials I will need for the pharm tech certification. I’ll go back to pharmacy for now. I even know a place nearby that has a pharmacy with a really nice atmosphere amongst the coworkers (I don’t know if they’d hire me since that’s where I get my meds ūüėČ ). But regardless, there are two other nearby pharmacies, too. And I did retail for a year and liked interacting with the customers (it was my coworkers who stressed the shit out of me). Then later in life, I did 2.5 years in a mediset pharmacy and although I didn’t like the work as much as retail, I LOVED my coworkers and actually looked forward to work (until the massive program changes and mandatory overtime started, and lead into my mental breakdown Number 2).

So here I am. It was a rough night but actually, the pharmacy decision will be a good short term solution, and my decision to post HERE led me to the word “organize” which cleared up a whole hell of a lot of confusion. So I’m glad for this night.

(And the memorial and service was really as good as it could possibly have been. Very lovely and I finally let myself start grieving for my grandpa.)

OCD: Living by the Rules: Profanity (Topic#040)

Sunset leaves

Sunset leaves

Some time ago, I promised a post to explain why I swear. (This will be quick because really I’m just avoiding packing.)

Basically, I swear because one of my favorite-ever psychologists insisted that I needed to. Even after he insisted, it took me several years to try it. I’ll explain that in a bit.

My whooooole life, I did not swear. I couldn’t swear. It was an OCD thang. You know. Another Rules thing. I didn’t mind swearing in others. But I could NOT do it myself. I avoided certain numbers and I avoided certain words.

Any religious word was automatically off-limits. Any word that could possibly be offensive to anybody else was automatically off-limits. That included parts of the body, anything to do with reproduction, profanity, on & on.

Well, I lived by that without too much bother, although maybe sometimes I did wish I could use certain expressions that I found HILARIOUS. I used to CRACK UP when I heard someone say, “hot damn!” I started saying, “Hot Dawg!” but it wasn’t as funny to me.

In college, in a psychology class, the professor had everyone in the room take turns saying either “vagina” or “penis”. Holy. Fuck. There was no bloody way. When it got to my turn, I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I just couldn’t do it. I COULDN’T. I no longer recall even which body part had fallen on my turn, but it doesn’t matter. I finally was able to squeak out, “I can’t do THAT!” And everyone turned and looked and thought I was weird because everybody else in the entire room had done it. The professor just used me as an example of her point, about different cultures and upbringings. Eventually, I excused myself from the classroom and walked around campus, having an anxiety attack. (Again, these were the days when I was developing PTSD from other things college-related but hadn’t yet accepted anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds.)

So yeah. AFTER those years, one of the psychologists I saw (to deal with those years, actually, since those are the years of my first mental breakdown), learned, in our final session (he was moving to another city), that I Do. Not. Swear. So one of his parting lessons to me was how important it was for me to do just that. Since it’s something I “can’t” do, it’s something I “need” to do.

I didn’t begin trying it for a couple of more years. This will be lame to admit, but the first time I tried swearing was actually in my first year of marriage. I was very upset with my husband and I chose to utter a swear word as passive-aggressiveness (probably “shit”). (Brief backstory: He swore ALL the time and was always trying to stop and saying how it was bad and it was so good that I didn’t do it. So he hated the fact that he swore all the time, but he swore all the time.) So I swore in a sentence because I knew it would bother him. O_o I know, that is not a healthy, stable, good-for-the-relationship-thing-to-do, but I did it. So there you go.

So yeah, now I swear. I mostly swear in writing, but I swear a little bit in person now. It’s still hard but I do. Just as it’s hard to say sex stuff in person still, but it’s waaaay less of a big deal now. I can even say things like “alter” or “pew” or “cross” etc. I couldn’t have said any of those words before (anything I felt was “sacred”, I was terrified to say — it goes for ALL religions, not just one; I wasn’t raised to any one religion).

I used to have panic attacks upon entering churches. But that’s a different story and I’ll end here. Ta da! I swear! I am sorry for offending anybody, but I’m not going to stop. It’s important to me.

{AHHH it feels so GOOD to have finally written out another Topic post! Okay, now for packing!}

Today is brighter (and spoke with my dad) (Journal#040)

Sunset

Sunset

For those of you who read my post last night, I was very, very down. Of course when I am down, I feel that I have always been there and will always be there.

But today did come. I slept for about 20 minutes last night altogether. I don’t feel too badly, though. I even spoke with my dad, who was on his¬†way to the airport. I leave later and we will meet up for the memorial.

Him:¬†“I’m going to see you later today.”
Me: “Weird.”
Him: “I know.”

And I felt infinitely so much better then. He gets it, you know? With anybody else, I would try to put on a fake joyfulness such as, “Ohmygawd I can’t wait to see you in just half a day!!!”¬†but really be feeling stressed out (just from change in routine and stuff), you know? But him and me, we’re on a similar wave length in a lot of ways.

Again at the end of the call:

Him: “Okay, See you later!”
Me: “That is so weird.”
Him: “I know, it is. [laughter]”

And he had an excitement in his voice. It sparked something in me. I feel so much better about this upcoming trip now. 20 minutes of sleep and all.

{And yeah, I sure as shit better quit my job soon, before I get drug down to depths beyond what I can crawl out of.}

Oh and yeah, I got my tongue looked at by an Urgent Care doctor this morning. She said she’d seen something like it before but had to look up something. When she came back, she said it definitely wasn’t a fungus (darn, I was rooting for thrush), and she didn’t think it was cancer because I don’t smoke/chew tobacco and am fairly young (I didn’t really know that had been on the table), but she didn’t know what it was and I would have to see a dentist. SO, there goes that $$$ and now I have to find a dentist for when I get back from the memorial.

Cannot. Sleep. (Journal#039)

It’s 5:11 a.m. and I cannot sleep. I’ve been trying since around 1 a.m. It’s ironic, because I had even set aside a really complicated sketch I was working on for the sake of sleep.

I guess I am too nervous about tomorrow. I’m flying out tomorrow, for my grandpa’s memorial.

  • I have issues with¬†executive functioning, so packing is always an issue.
    • My mom did talk me through some of it over the phone earlier. But in truth, I only gathered some clothes so far. I couldn’t bring my mind to think about it.
  • I’m flying. Which brings up its own bag of worms (actually, I’d like a bag of worms).
    • My worst-ever panic attack occurred on an airplane.
      • It was before I had accepted any¬†anti-anxiety medicines (STUPID!).
      • The flight attendants offered me oxygen.
    • Although before that happened, flying was my favorite thing to do and I dreamed of being a then-called stewardess, one panic attack can change all of that.
    • Now I always feel really pleased with myself if I make it through a flight without taking anxiety medicine. (Why do I torture myself with trying it?! I can go from handling it to being scared out of my pants in about 1 second flat.)
  • I’m just scared.
    • Of the change in routine, I guess.
    • Scared of the unknown.
    • Seeing people I don’t normally get to see.
    • Attending a memorial I haven’t mentally prepared for yet.
    • I never submitted any of my memories of him for the book they’re preparing. ūüė¶
  • I’m getting up in 2 hours for a doctor appointment. I apparently decided, why make a normal appointment for half the price when I can instead wait to the last second before travel and see an urgent care doctor for extra$$$ for something that’s been bugging me for two months??!
    • Maybe after the appointment, I can finish packing and then NAP until my flight, since I’m obviously not going to get a whole lot of sleeping in between now and my appointment.

I’ve been down again¬†lately. It feels like it’s gone on forever, but maybe I’m mistaken.

I don’t want to ever step foot back at work again. I’ve definitely got a “thing” about that place now.

My other contract is ending at the end of this month. Actually, that means my mom won’t let me nap tomorrow because she’ll insist I work on that contract… which would be the ethically correct thing to do. But I’m so scared about the fact that I can’t sleep. I didn’t do too badly on that contract, but the time period’s nearly over and there’s still like a day’s worth of work to do on it. Two days if I’m unproductive.

Please let me out of this job. I don’t want to ever go back. One of my aunts apparently told my mom that if I can make it through for another month or two, things will be all better. But OMFG WHY DO I HAVE TO MAKE IT THROUGH ONE OR TWO MORE MONTHS of it?! (2 reasons: One, the pay is better than most other jobs I could get, and two, I could opt for significantly cheaper health insurance through it)

I haven’t really written here that there’s been a helluva lot of inner turmoil at work. A helluva lot. It’s basically destroyed my home life. For the past however long it’s been, that’s what all the yelling and crap has been about – it’s all been work related. And when there wasn’t yelling, my uncle had stopped being able to talk with me or anything because he had to focus on contracts and all sorts of things he had to research. He didn’t tell me what was going on, and in fact did try to hide the yelling from me at first, but frankly when the walls shake from your voice, there’s no hiding it. That’s when I put in the earplugs and whatnot.

But I can’t take it. You’ve changed. I’m depressed. I’m scared of work, scared of the turmoil, scared of people resenting each other and doing things behind other people’s backs. Scared of the fact that one of them told several of the other employees what’s going on but I was still in the dark, as I was supposed to be (it really isn’t my business as an employee there). Sick. I’m just sick. I’m literally getting over my virus.

But I’m more than physically sick. I feel like all the light and all the hope of this life is just gone. Like I have nothing to look forward to again. Like every moment is a torment and I can’t feel rest and I can’t feel secure and I can’t feel loved. Listless and pointless.

But I’m glad I took Bailey to the dog park today. I needed the exercise (I had slept for virtually 4 days straight without a speck of exercise). But I feel so sick to my stomach right now. Bailey was very good with all of the different dogs and all of the people…except for her ability to sniff out each person who had treats. Silly food hog. It was cute, but I literally had to take her to the other side of the dog park because this really nice lady wouldn’t stop giving her treats! (Bailey has a fat-roll issue, for those wondering why that would be a problem. ūüėČ )

Don’t read on if you’re emetophobic¬†or otherwise squeamish: Continue reading