laughter and insanity and a little maturity

Felt weird. Like a mixture of "hey, there's examples of you doing and being good in here" and "Jesus fuck, you were a dumpster fire in a nuclear waste coffin surrounded by a sewage moat."

Thanks to years of therapy, I think of myself more highly now than I ever have... but... I still struggle with reconciling with who I was/have been, who I am now, and how much farther I still have to go as a person.

Ummmmm I'm... Sort of around. Still kicking. Busy now that I'm in charge of my building/department at work.

I have clamped down a lot of my social media usage because of... Well, how destructive I get on it.

Plus my brain's default setting is "no one cares about you or what's going on with you, not even you."

I tried to ignore it, and then a conversation came up, that I did not initiate or want to have, about where I fit into the group. And it went... not QUITE as terribly as I expected, but pretty damn close to it. One person in particular was quite enthusiastic about my not being apart of it. And that just opened the flood gates.

“You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.” “You don’t belong.”

And I couldn’t take it anymore. So I left the group.

Then a few weeks later, I’m having a conversation with the aforementioned friend about that voice... I was trying to be honest without being a negative asshole just looking to undercut her arguments, especially because I’ve heard that recently as well... but it seemed like the only thing I could do to stop her well meaning, but untrue statements was with facts, so I pointed out I left her group. She didn’t know/notice. Nobody did. Not even one person I had been talking to privately for those weeks I wasn’t in it (I’ll come back to this).

Friend was upset I left, so after talking it over, I decided to come back, because ultimately, I had joined it for her in the first place, and supporting her and being apart of it for her were the important things, again, the reasons I joined in the first place.

So, back to the second person: They asked why I left. I didn’t want to respond, so I said I didn’t want to get into it. They kind of got cold and backed off... so figuring maybe the explanation would be less trouble than dealing with that, and wanting to be honest, I told her the deal. It did not go over well. I’m not sure if it’s my fault for how I explained it, or...her fault. She did ask me multiple questions that I answered in the explanation, but perhaps I just wasn’t clear enough.

Anyway, I attempted to explain better/further, and it didn’t help, so I got frustrated and said.... it would be better to just forget I said anything.

“Sure,” she says.

Few minutes later, she messages saying she feels like I wanted to tell her (which I had already said I didn’t) or wanted to explain (which I had already said was the case, and I reaffirmed it was the latter).

“well, if you don’t want to explain, then don’t next time.”

...............

Alright then.

Then the weekend comes along. I had had issues in my friend’s group before, for which I apologized both privately and publicly (and I still mean what I said). So I was trying to be more careful this time around.

Today, friend messages me:  “Hey, can we talk when we both get home?”

.... Super. Because that conversation starter always leads somewhere good.

“A few people messaged me about this weekend...”

Proceeded to explain why, and about changes in the group, in part, because of then and similar incidents.

Yeah, Friend. I *totally* belong. I belong so hard you had to change things to address a problem that I thought I had done a better job of not creating.

Can’t decide if I fucking wish I didn’t join in the first place, or if I wish I hadn’t rejoined.

I don’t belong. 

If I didn’t have so many long term friendships still, I’d say I wasn’t wanted at all or that I was better off not being around people at all. For mine, and their, sakes.

I keep hearing this phrase in my head over and over and over: “You’re just a suicide waiting to happen.”

It’s pretty invasive. Part of me says “No! I’ll never do that!” and part of me says... “why not? Why bother? Nobody gives a shit about you already. You can’t even make cries for help because you’ve tried and they go unnoticed. The people you want and wish cared for you the most couldn’t be bothered... Dude... why are you still here?”

It’s been nice being in charge of my department at work... but.... I’m seeing all these little mistakes add up, and how they can turn into bigger and bigger problems, and they’re mistakes that I try hard not to make. But I still make them.

It’s like university all over again. Like I’m fighting with my own brain’s inabilities, flaws... shortcomings.

It’s hard. It’s really hard for me to deal with that again and again and again. I want so badly to hold myself in high esteem, to say to those voices “Look! See! I’m not a failure! I’m not pathetic! I’m not incompetent!”

But it feels like it’s always 1 step forward, 2 steps back... What happens when there’s no longer space to back up?

Also, I realize this is basically a recurring theme of my life/existence, but... I’m struggling with sadness again.

I still miss my ex. I keep trying not to, I keep trying to move on, move forward... she probably has. That was her nature, really. To move on and move forward no matter what, pretty much.

So... it just... hurts. To have had someone make such a big deal out of me, to talk about how excited they were about me, us, the future, together... and then just move on and forget after all of that. After I grew to believe it. To want it. To matter.

And now... once again, I don’t. 

I also often find myself wondering... what don’t I know about? What things brought her to that decision? Was it something I did or didn’t do or something I am or was...?

I’d like to stop thinking about it. About her. I’d like the sadness and the longing to stop. But ever since that nightmare... every day... my mind goes to her again and again and again... and always it remembers: She chose life without you. And she’s not the type to go back. She’ll just... move on. Move forward.

Without you. Without ever even thinking or dwelling on you.

You’re wasting time, energy, and thought on someone who wouldn’t even waste a nanosecond of her life on you.

And yet... I can’t seem to stop... no matter how hard I try.

Funny. Whenever I teased her or made puns or dad jokes, she’d say: “Why are you like this???”

I’ve come to a rather painful rediscovery (because I’ve noticed it before when I was younger, and it’s happened a bunch of times when things are bad).

I’m just too toxic to be around/engage with. I’m hurting or upsetting people because of where I’m at mental health wise (I’m not good, to clarify, and one of my coping habits, though arguably not a good one, is to make really dark jokes, particularly about me dying (though, I’d also argue, it’s like when I’m in the hospital: you don’t have to worry... until I stop making jokes)).

It’s come up a bunch of times now, with different people, over the past couple months. I hate it, but this is where I’m at. I have tried SO FUCKING HARD not to talk about what’s been going on with me, to focus on external shit to talk to people about, to focus on asking about them and what’s going on with them and diverted conversations away from me when I can, but while trying also to not lie and be honest if pressed... but repeatedly, I’ve failed at it. I guess it’s like a capped bottle. You can only put so much in it and shake it for so long before it explodes. But other than the news, general life crap, stories from the day/week... I got nothing to talk about. Everything leads back to how shit everything is, so I end up avoiding conversation(s) with people, too.

I have had a number of friends pull away, either partially, or completely.

That’s the worst part about mental illnesses, in my opinion. You scare or push everyone you love away, you isolate yourself from everyone else, and you realize where you’re at, so it becomes like this wall that everyone is on the other side of. A wall so tall you’re not sure it’s worth climbing at all to reach out to people you don’t want be forced to call, you’d rather fall, all alone, than hurt anyone at all. Dumb rhyming aside... The second worst part is the learned helplessness. Maybe this isn’t true for everyone, but between my depression and the PTSD response I have, I’ve basically internalized that there’s nothing I can do, nothing will help, anything I DO try will either fail or make things (often significantly) worse, and nothing will be the right choice, there’s no path that doesn’t feel like shit and will just potentially make things even more shit, and I’m almost or already at or past my limit, and taking on more not only sounds unbearable, but feels like it, too, when new shit is forced on me anyway.

But yeah. Truth is, the best thing I can do for everyone is to just stay away. At this time, at this point in my life, at the stage of mental health I’m at, it’s just... better for everyone else. Shit, when I talked to my therapist about it, she pushed back against the idea at first, but when I explained my reasons, she... stopped. She accepted my reasoning.

It’s hard, though. The people who are gone... I miss them. But they’ve decided they’re better off without me... and... I can’t hate them for it, they’re fucking right. I’m not blind, I can see the effect I’m having on people... 

Truth is, I’ve... been alone at many of my worst times. At least nobody else had to suffer then. This is for the best. 

I’m trying to tell myself it’s not because people don’t care, and that they have their own shit going on, that right now, my problems are just too much or whatever, but it’s still hard not to feel insignificant, unneeded, unwanted, abandoned, unlovable, irredeemable, unnecessary, useless, beyond hope or help...

But...

If you’re going through Hell... Keep going. At least... that’s what I’m trying to do.

I don’t want to deal with all of this anymore. 

My mother left a bunch of shit at my door from when I was a kid that she can't keep it anymore. It was a baseball team photo, a yearbook, and these 2 "Student of the week" plaques. I saw the dates and went "oh wow". 1996. Cool.

Then I saw the teacher name.

It was my teacher who got arrested for having child porn.

He never did anything to anyone or me that I'm aware of, but as a victim of abuse as a kid, the idea that he could have is highly upsetting. Vulnerable. I don't do well with being unwillingly vulnerable. Willingly, no problem, but this doesn't feel like that, you know?

I cut his name off the sheet of paper and burned those parts... But it doesn't feel like enough. I may just burn both entirely.

Good riddance.

Same with groups I’ve been apart of... people send their condolences and then... forget or leave you alone. It’s not that that’s the wrong answer, per se... I mean, I’ve been feeling so withdrawn and... tired anyway, haven’t been able to keep in touch with people very well... but when you feel so inconsequential and invisible, unimportant... it really just enhances those feelings. 

I just constantly feel like I don’t belong. That I don’t matter. That I’m not wanted.

I won’t bullshit. I have good friends. It’s not their faults that they don’t know what to do or say, or that they shy away from the discomfort of me and my situation... I can’t really blame them. It’s just really isolating. My own mind and emotions isolate me already, and then my situations just make me even more so as I’m just a black hole of uncomfortable for people.

I’m also frustrated because this withdrawn, exhausted feeling means I can’t put the effort out to change things with people. And it sucks seeing my sister meet new person after new person, having regulars she sleeps with as often as she wants, she’s even seeing a couple... and knowing not only can I not meet as many people, sleep with as many people normally anyway, but with me as I am now, I can’t even attempt or try. 

I’m getting older. I have white hair growing in more and more. My beard grows more and more white every week. I still live in my mother’s house. I work in a factory. I’m hairy everywhere to the point that I look like a gorilla with full body balding, but still enough hair to say “this is definitely a gorilla.” I’m not exactly going to be put into magazines for attractiveness. I mean, thanks for the decent sized dick, genetics, but you didn’t exactly give me much everywhere else to entice anyone into getting to it.

Not much to really say beyond all of that. I don’t have a conclusion. I don’t have anything right now. 

We don't think he knew. Because he had a really good day yesterday. He didn't scream all night like he had been lately, he slept through the night... I actually left in the morning happy because... He finally slept. Then the nurse came, looked after his wounds, the PSW my parents loved was here and looked after him, he wasn't fussy at all. There'd been a lot of arguments and fighting. But not yesterday.

He ate well, slept well, was coherent, pleasant... Then he was up in the Hoyer lift... I wasn't there. I was at work. But I got the call from my sister that he wasn't breathing and high tailed it out of there. When I got there, they had already moved my sister and mother outside. I comforted them and I was honestly okay... Until they let us go see him after they told us he didn't make it.

That broke me.

I only have ONE space in my life that is only and entirely mine. My car. That’s my only space. My room is in my parents’ house (even though I pay them for it, because my parents don’t do anything to help us without it costing us something), I have no dedicated space at work, I have nothing else.

Just. My. Car.

And one of my fucking coworkers either dropped or PUT (I’m leaning toward put because they didn’t mention it when we all left at the end of the day) a fucking cigarette in front of my fucking air intake on my car. So I get in and it reeks like cigarette smoke. I start sniffing around, and I can tell it’s coming from my car’s fan. I tried to check the front of the vehicle, but I was at a light already, and it was changing. Got home, and it’s in front of the intake AND STILL FUCKING SMOKING. 

I’M SO FUCKING MAD. I drove around with the fans on full blast, windows all the way open for HALF AN HOUR. And I just checked a little bit ago, and it’s been an hour, and it’s still noticeably there.

I don’t even know what to do I’m so fucking mad.