Quick posty: Practice naming emotions!

Lonely. All my own fault. I don’t go out places, and when I do I keep my head down and/or don’t have interesting answers to questions. I’m not up on current events or gossip news because I don’t track FB or the news, they both make me more depressed.  I don’t talk to people because I don’t have any answer they want to hear to ” How are you?” or “So what do you do?”  in the event i do give an honest answer to one of those I don’t have an explanation for “Why?”

Nostalgia/regret. Went searching through pictures recently and came across some from previous lives. In the few I have that I am in, I look like I was having fun. Sadness that life is gone.  Sort of okay with growing out of some parts of it. Wish I seemed to be growing into something else.

Frustrated. Place of semi-work may or may not close this month, the 8 ball won’t say. Do I start applying for other jobs, maybe get some full time? (I ought to have done anyway, I need to make more this year) Do I file for unemployment? Is it worth waiting to see if maybe they don’t close, or should I just quit now? Might  be the prompt I need to make a change.

Angry. At myself that I am still not moving on with life, still being a disappointment to my family, still ridiculously, pointlessly, dragging-my-feet-and-whiningly indecisive and procrastinaty about my future.

Tired. Only a few more hours to try to fill with something that seems to be constructive, and then its a possibly acceptable, if early, time to go to bed. Boy have I got to get me a life coach or something.

 

Fridays are the Worst Days

for me right now. Fridays are evaluation days, where I think about how well I did this week, whether I accomplished anything meaningful, whether my definition of meaningful is pathetic in relation to the real world where actual functional people live.

Not very.

I went to the Dr and got a physical, sent away fluids for testing. Got a referral to a neurologist. Had an appointment with my old therapist. I walked the dog most days. I slept at night and was awake during the day. I think I even showered once or twice.

Yes.

it kinda goes downhill from there.

Today a lot of things are broken, -important things that could affect some long term stuff for me.  Parts of WordPress, which is why this post and the preceding one have no tags and thus probably won’t be read by anyone. I’ve been told directly that some things I was planning to do that I thought would help are pointless.  Other things I tried to do to have some senso of progress somewhere were stymied by software incompatibility or other, unknown factors.

I haven’t been in any relationship long enough in the past 8 months to call anyone for help. I could call a crisis line, but I always feel like i’m wasting resources because the first answer to the first question is always no. (are you feeling suicidal or homicidal – or variations on that theme)

I even know i’m savior seeking (in that secular, codependent way) trying to get someone to hold my hand (and spoon-feed me lessons in how to live a real life) like I’m 4 years old instead of 34. i’m avoiding challenge, responsibility, and all that stuff.  This post is a pathetic, dramatic, adolescent cry for help from a  feeling-sorry-for-myself chronic learned-mental-helplessness self-victim. So is the preceding post.

i suck. everything sucks. i don’t care enough to actually make the effort to change. Apparently my brain has decided that i’m here to be a warning to others, locked in self-generated misery and self-pity for the rest of my life, because I’m too smart to kill myself but not smart enough to fix myself. maybe i mean stubborn. maybe i mean scared. who cares. not me.

I should eat something

I should be more social

I should try to make friends

I should get a therapist i can see more often.

I should get a job coach.

I should meditate, do yoga, do aerobic exercise more often.

I should actually write word one for those sites i signed up for in (April? May?)

i should stop feeling sorry for my overpriviliged, middle-class, food-secure, first-world brain problems. that’s what my therapy has been boiling down to.

T: “You have to set goals, believe in long-term rewards, put off instant gratification in favor of planning for your future. you have to decide to believe in yourself.”

Me: “But I don’t have any, any visualization i can make is wrong anyway, I don’t beleive in them, nothing long term is rewarding enough. I don’t.

T: “Well, you just  have to”

Me: “I don’t. What now?”

T: “Maybe you’re bipolar instead of depressed, have you ever been manic?”

Me: “You mean had lots of energy and felt good and accomplished things? No.”

T: Hmmmm…..

*hides under a rock*

I haven’t been reading other people’s blogs much, and I haven’t been writing in mine.  Stupid. Made the stupid mistake of looking at e-mail from X before group therapy, so I got a dose of bad feeling from second-hand e-mail from him, and also guilt that I haven’t answered the lawyer in a week now, even thought we’re finally in endgame.

The theme today was ‘we teach people how to treat us’ which is totally relevant to the above, not that I think I’m in any shape to have a romantic relationship again ever. We did an exercise where we drew concentric circles  with our names in the middle, and then writing friends in the circles according to their closeness to us. The point of which was to demonstrate that we have a choice about how close to allow people to us, who we want to associate with, etc.  I came up with a grand total of 4 names to put anywhere on the thing, one of which was my therapist, another was this cool artist woman I met in group.

So two friends, one potential friend, one therapist. i couldn’t figure out where to put family, since I only intermittently communicate with them with any clarity about myself. Pretty much everyone else is stuck on the outside.

I sat there totally wanting to cry, I even wrote “I want to cry now” in my notes, but I didn’t do it. didn’t want to disrupt the session for everyone else.  Therapist asked afterwards if I was OK, because I seemed awfully quiet during group.  I told her “I need to go write some stuff.” (So here I am, blogging away.)

I went home and found my 3-year old niece was over to visit. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to be patient enough to interact with her, let alone be OK if she melted down for any reason.  So I grabbed the dog and went to the dog park, where she had fun at least. I talked to a few people there (about dogs) and tried to write, but my social mask was back up, and there was no way that was going to work.

Well that’s not exactly true, I wrote the same bullshit crap that I always do on days like this; do I have to let myself blood-sugar crash in order to have an excuse to be emotional? (answer: probably yes, I don’t respect myself enough to just look at and consider my emotions straight on. I’m a great one for letting lots of little sadnesses accumulate until the camel is lying broken on the floor, or at least limping badly.

Suppress, Suppress! everything is OK, if I pretend everything is OK and wish hard enough that I’ll wake up tomorrow and my life will be better then maybe it will magically fix everything without any actual hard work on my part.

I bought myself sushi at the grocery store on the way home.

Anyhow. I came home again to find dad & a neighbor at the pool table in ‘my living room’ (not really mine, its the room you have to pass through to get anywhere downstairs, including my bedroom) downstairs, so I could either walk past them to go hide in my room (bound to cause questions, plus I’d have to put on extra nice Face to meet the neighbor) Or I can pretend to be OK and sit at my computer letting it update itself, and restarting until they go away and i can go hide downstairs.

Which happened eventually.  There was pot roast already on for dinner (and I didn’t want to seem ungrateful), so I didn’t actually eat the sushi. After a couple false starts,  I watched UP, lent to me by another well-meaning neighbor.  The part I liked best was watching Carl and Ellie’s life together. I teared up at the end. The rest of the movie I didn’t enjoy all that much. (insert cynical plot  and character criticism here) This (inability to enjoy a light-hearted movie) is a warning sign that I’m starting to take everything too seriously again.

I suppose my last two posts might be a clue too.

Also the damn Rollerblades, which are still in the closet. They are becoming the thing that I talk about but don’t do. Well besides practical work towards getting a job. The constant feeling sorry for myself, using the smallest disappointment to give up on the day. self-criticism, isolation, repeatedly botching my food plan, etc etc.

OK so I’m depressed.

Tomorrow I think I’ll hire a career coach, someone to be accountable to. Otherwise I’m just going to keep procrastinating, researching and running in little damp circles in my head, whining about how I can’t be arsed to put effort into my own damn life, now that I’m free to actually take total responsibility for it.

I need to find a way to create positive feedback in the job search. (other than if I don’t actually try, I don’t have to leave the house, do anything challenging or out of my comfort zone, blah bliddy blah self criticism here) Also hopefully I can pretend to be a grownup talking to the career coach, which is better than I can do with my folks right now, despite having promised them I’d try to communicate more with them about where I am.

I want to get drunk, but I tried that already this week, and got a miserable headache, plus a day after of uneasy stomach. Not sure why I bothered(escapism, I can stop thinking so/too much if I’m drunk), I know that’s what happens when I mix booze with my meds. I’m spiraling lower again, but at least I’m still writing.

Oh also therapist said that the county doesn’t have enough funding to give me any more sessions. So I have maybe 2 more group, and then I’m on my own. Also today marks that I officially have 2 months to show some evidence of getting my act together to my folks. Or what, I don’t know, at some point they’re going to get sick of having me in the basement, and push me out of the nest, because I obviously aren’t learning how to fly living with them.

At least the dog seems to be housebroken. The folks keep buying her treats. Like spoiling the grandchild I am unlikely to produce, I guess. It’s a nice gesture of showing they care while not doing anything to make me more dependent on them. Which is good. I need to learn to stand on my own feet, blah blah.

Today I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared.