Not my most “up” day, perhaps. (Journal#052)

I cracked open my laptop tonight to see if writing a post would help me feel better. I may have had an anxiety attack a little bit ago. I’m not sure. Tears were involved. I’m actually not much of a cryer so it’s always a big deal to me when I cry. It means something is off, either my blood sugar, menstruation, or a bit of an anxiety attack.

So here goes my exploration. First of all, Saturday. Saturday, I did what I’d intended to do. I rested. I napped. I rested some more. I think I did chores that evening. Sunday, I spent most of it with “Joe”. We watched tons more episodes of Star Trek TNG and we went on a walk. I’ll admit to you guys that we may have snuggled on the sofa while watching. All G-rated, but his arms were definitely around me and my head was resting on his chest and I didn’t want to ever move again. Ever. Complete. Bliss. If I could freeze those moments in time and just let the rest of my life play out like that, I would. Nothing more and nothing less.

This might sound positive but it is not. I don’t know if I’ll be able to put to words. something extremely important and desperate. something that does not deserve to live in me but it is there and will rear its head whenever and however it damn well pleases.


Desperation. Forgive me, I may offend as I try to type this. I don’t know what I’ll say or how this is going to come out.

All I can do is say PTSD. How else could I possibly describe it.

In my second year of college, I was starting my mental breakdown. It went on through the whole year, getting progressively worse the entire time.

There came a time when I consciously realized the desperation that had grown within me. At lunch, I would sit with a group of people in the cafeteria. I would sit with them. I would stare at them. I would try to memorize them and their presence with me and their company. I was desperate. I would not go for food any longer; every second spent getting food was a second not spent with them. I would begin to cry when one of them would have to leave to go back and study, attend class, etc. The loneliness.

It got to where I would begin to cry preemptively. Lunch would have just begun and I would burst into tears because I knew they would all have to leave shortly. I cannot put this into words strongly enough to convey. I would have done anything. What did I have to lose anymore by that point? I was desperate for company and did not attain it.

But also, I could not. Because even if someone tried to spend a moment with me, I was wracked with the loneliness and knowledge that they’d be leaving shortly.

THERE IS A WAY IN WHICH COMPANY WORSENS IT. It gives me that taste again. It gives me something to miss again. In many ways, it is easiest and best to be alone. Because otherwise, this neurotic part of me can rise again.

Well it did today. Tonight, I was so lonely I cried. And I wanted a hug. And I wanted company. And I don’t want to be alone right now.

The higher the high, the more painful the fall. I have had this now for over a decade. How did it subside long enough for me to date and marry? I don’t understand.

I thought, perhaps tonight I was triggered because I had just finished filling out a psychiatric history form for a psychiatrist I am finally going to see. But I did perhaps an overly-thorough job of going back all the way to the first time I was diagnosed with anything, and going forward from there, which means I did give a quick mention to that year of college and the time following.

Will this loneliness-I-would-kill-for-companionship feeling go away? Please, please let there be some way of letting this feeling die once and for all.

It’s a loop, too. It fuels itself. Because guess what keeps people away quite easily? Being neurotic. So my desperation for you, once I can no longer hide it, will be the very thing that keeps you away, fueling my desire to sacrifice any and all aspects of myself for companionship.

And, once it is in full swing, this is not something that will leave my head. I will not be able to think of anything else during the 24hr day. I mean this literally. It’s never occurred to me before now, but perhaps there is some OCD in there as well. As is, these are reasons I do not trust myself and I think I am dangerous to others (because I HAVE gone through times when I would say and do anything. Lie. Be someone different. Set aside anything Real for just one moment of time with someone). But I wonder now, if I were to consider it anymore as nothing more than an intrusive thought, maybe I could treat it as such. It feels more Real and more Tangible and more Controlling than that, but maybe, just maybe that’s all it is now. I wonder if I can think of it that way. I wish to God[] I could be normal and have normal, healthy relationships.

[[P.S. I was still in tears when I cracked open my laptop to try and explore this topic here, but before I started this post, I read all of the beautiful, so kind comments on my previous posts. ❤ ❤ I didn’t feel as lonely then. Thank you, everybody! ❤ ]]

9 thoughts on “Not my most “up” day, perhaps. (Journal#052)

  1. Hang in there. I really think it was the going over your history that would upset you. If I have to do the same it’s hard for me, and it’s pretty understandable, because you have just revisited all the hard stuff and listed all the ways in which you feel ‘abnormal’, or ‘bad’.
    But I would imagine there are plenty of good times in between and around those that you would probably benefit from remembering too. It’s good to have a more balanced view of yourself if you can, because at the moment you are looking at yourself, just as I do myself, with those ‘shit tinted’ spectacles, where you filter everything until it’s all shit coloured where you are concerned.
    Having sought help, the very fact that you have done so is positive, and if you hadn’t, well maybe you wouldn’t have to be writing down the negative stuff but then you would be less aware of what is really going on and further away from getting help.
    This ‘realisation’ phase is actually very hard but useful to go through. I’m no expert, I just speak from my own experiences, of seeking help aged 48 and finding out things that made some sense of the previous 47 years of my life that I’d never understood.
    The best thing for me was realising that ‘they’ have heard it all before, that a ‘diagnosis’ is many things but ultimately just a name, however it tells you that enough people have felt the way you do to warrant a name, which means YOU ARE NOT ALONE in feeling that way.
    And this is all helpful – to me at least.
    I hope all this makes sense. And I hope that you have hope, because it will get better with help, it just takes time, and there are always good and bad times on the way.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My gut feel is that you panic because you feel Alone=Unloved and in your childhood you weren’t shown that you were loved or worthy of love, so you are trying to prove to yourself that you are. Perhaps family is still reinforcing that unlovableness message…. I had that message too and it has been/is-still-some-days hard to believe it’s not true. But you are lovable!
    Perhaps it would help to write down some qualities that you know that you have that you admire in others, or know are admirable. e.g. being a good writer (i.e. spelling and grammar); being an interesting blogger; being a responsive blogger; being an interesting person. Once you see more reasons people can and do find you lovable, perhaps you will be able to feel future companionship – and love – is likely to happen. Seeing the edge of the cliff is just a gap between stepping stones might make it less scary. (P.S., I also was able to enjoy some snuggles with my other half yesterday – a rare treat in a long distance relationship. Snuggles are so good, aren’t they.) Just noticed 2 other good qualities you have: not just a sex object; snuggleable. Hopefully you can get to 10 or 20 without my help.

    Liked by 1 person

    • OMG ❤ Snuggleable! That's true! As for sex object… Well, I am not being one right now, but that's not to say I haven't ever chosen that route… Yeah…

      Hmmmmm childhood. I was definitely literally told that I was unlikeable, etc, by the older kid, for years. But my parents would have always enforced the opposite.

      But I know I felt alone then, too. I always felt alone. But no interest in hugs or snuggles back then. Zippo.

      Thank you so much for your list. I feel a bit bad, because I don't consider myself a good writer (my grammar can be atrocious and my threads go all over the place), I don't feel like an interesting writer except perhaps 2% of the time O_o, But I thank you so much. I will try to reconsider the way I feel about my writing. It is hard to believe, though.

      I LOVE how you wrote: "Seeing the edge of the cliff is just a gap between stepping stones might make it less scary." That is such a cool image!!!!! I love it.

      Much to consider. Thank you for your kind words!!! ❤


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