I've officially been back in school for half of a semester; I honestly was not sure I would ever make it to this point. Things are going alright. I am not struggling in any of my classes, except for French (which is completely disappointing because it has nothing to do with my efforts, my teacher is simply terrible). I plan on switching over to Spanish next semester and just self-study French in my free time. I love the language far to much to let what I have learned go to waste. I am still struggling to step outside of my comfort zone; I have not made any real friends. I am not sure if I come across as unfriendly or just shy; my instructors seems to enjoy me. This is kind of a double edged sword, I enjoy being liked by my instructors, but I kind of think that pushes my classmates away from me. It also is worth noting that I am a solid four or five years older than the majority of my classmates; this does not seem like a large gap, but based on my experiences, it is a huge generational gap. I don't feel as though I have anything in common with anyone. I am at an impasse - too young to befriend my instructors, to old to befriend my classmates.
Winter has been especially tough in my rental home. After being poisoned by propane gas on and off for months, we finally just cut the gas line off altogether. To keep warm, my roommates and I keep small heaters in our rooms. The rest of the house is too cold to function in - it is see your breath cold in my kitchen while trying to make breakfast, lunch and dinner. I am desperately awaiting the arrival of spring. This desperation derives not just from my desire for warmth, but my desire for change. The relationship I have with my most recent boyfriend has been very strained lately. We have been very on and off; trying to decide what we are and what we should do. I know that deep down, I can never love him. I am constantly guilted by my own conscious into trying to love him; because I know he has such strong feelings for me. I am drowning in my own loyalty. I am constantly reminded of past relationships, one in particular (which if you've read previous things I've written, you know which relationship I am always referring to); I tended to throw people away haphazardly in the past. I vowed to never do that again. This vow has me feeling trapped. Even though I'm not actually together with my most recent boyfriend, I still feel tied to him. I wish so desperately to severe all ties; however, this is next to impossible since we live in the same house.
That relationship changed me greatly, and I don't think it changed me for the better. At the end, I had myself questioning my sexuality, my morals, and even my standards. I was so off-put by this individual's romantic advances that I convinced myself I was asexual - which is the farthest thing from the truth. I lost my compass in regards to right and wrong; particularly the right and wrong time to tell someone you don't love them - I still haven't figured out the right time to confess my lack of love. This lack of truthfulness makes me feel like a traitor; I don't want this individual to think that I am leading him on. My actions should make my feelings clear enough, if I move away from every friendly touch, but I think not coming outright with my true feelings has held us both back. I look back on the relationship that we shared and I cannot figure out where and how I let my standards drop so drastically. He was and still is nothing that I could ever want. I want and need someone in my life who is just passionate about life as I am - not someone who makes me feel guilty for liking what I do, and not liking things he thinks I should. I have not smiled in months in this rental home. The only time I genuinely smile is when I am with my family or talking to a close friends. I cannot stand the feeling of walking on eggshells. I cannot be myself around this person, because I don't really even know who I am when I am around him . I am so lost. So confused. So broken.
I am determined to come out with my true feelings. That way he has no glimmer of hope that we can ever work out, and in hopes that I can free myself of the chains in which I tied myself to this person. I hope there is the possibility of remaining true friends, but I believe our current friendship is only held together by his belief that we could one day get back together. I am so sick of letting people down; especially myself. I let other people get inside my head when I broke up with the only person I have ever loved so many years ago; and I let other people get in my head when I began dating this new person. Everyone reminded me of my relationship track record, and made me out to be this horrible person who thought people and their hearts were disposable. So I set out to prove everyone wrong - which was a huge mistake. In trying to prove them wrong, I stayed in something far too long and now even though the actual relationship has dissolved, I am still stained by it. My wish for this Spring is a true cleanse. I want to free myself of old burdens and focus on the future.
It's been ages since I posted last because, well, if I'm being honest with myself and you, I've been afraid to post. So much has been changing, yet, staying the same. I am haunted by my past, fearful of my future, trapped in the present. I feel like I rarely know what to do, what to say, or where to turn. Every time I feel like I'm somewhat on the right track, something throws me off course. I'm lost. So lost. Maybe finding my way is an illusion. Maybe none of us actually know what we're doing. We're all just taking shots in the dark. Sometimes we hit our targets, a target, any target. We cling to whatever we land on because the odds of hitting something else seems so bleak. I believe that's what I've been doing. I took a shot in the dark, landed where I am now, and I'm scared to shoot again. Maybe this is where I'm meant to be, maybe fate exists. Maybe it's all just dumb luck.
I've found myself in a strange city, hours away from my home. I'm enrolled in a college I have only recently heard of. I'm going to attempt the same major I failed at back in 2012. I don't even know if school is where I'm supposed to be. I was working a 9-5 job this time last year. I was miserable. Maybe I just chose school because it seemed like the quickest way out of the job I hated. School has always came easily to me. Maybe I can delay my entrance into the "real world" of working and being miserable. Maybe deciding to run away from reality will bite me in ass down the line. I could just be delaying the inevitable. The harsh sting of reality will be all the more visceral when it arrives for me. Or, school is something I have been avoiding, not because I'm not meant to be there, but because I'm afraid of my own potential success. I've found comfort in the middleground, somewhere between dream and reality, success and failure, happiness and depression. My homeostasis has been consistent inconsistency. I've been predictably unpredictable. I've often wondered if I've been sabotaging myself all along. I tend to ruin things the moment I get to comfortable or happy. Feeling too much of any one way overwhelms and shakes me to my core.
This self sabotage is probably the main reason I dwell so frequently on my past. nostalgia haunts me. But the nostalgia is not as generalized as one would think. I am so stuck on one moment in my life. One era. One person. The irony, is that this person didn't leave me. I left them. I chose this for myself. I found myself so blissfully happy that I choked. There was no possible way any of the joy I was feeling could be real or lasting. I had to self preserve (or sabotage - in retrospect). I came up with the quickest, faultiest excuse I could find to end this. This, this dream. Nothing in life, nothing that is actually real, could be so effortless and peaceful. No one person could be so perfect and understanding of me. I am complicated. I am unlovable. I am not worthy.
I am nothing.
Or so I thought. I couldn't allow myself happiness. So I had to steal it from myself and from the other person. I could blame it on being young. I could blame it on being naive. I could blame a lot of things, but ultimately the blame is reserved for myself.
We've connected multiple times since everything fell apart. Each time felt so strange. Surreal, even. Two people who had once been each-others world, trying to navigate the in and outs of a friendship. A friendship that didn't begin organically. A friendship that was forced out of necessity. A inexplicable need to be around that other person. To communicate with someone who knows you. Knew you. Do we still know anything? Are we the same people? Have our hearts changed? Do our souls still fit? Will we ever know?
I feel so trapped. I miss a ghost. I miss what can never be the same again; no matter how hard I, or anyone else tries. Both parties have been changed by this one event. We have the scars to prove it. They've healed, we've healed. But those scars are a constant reminder. At least for me. I can only speak for me. I find myself with someone new, invested so deeply, but not wholly. I can't commit to another. I try. I'm trying. All I can see when I look at my scars is you. You are still so very much a part of me. I don't expect you to feel the same. I can't possibly. I can accept that my feelings will be unrequited, only because I know the source of this pain is me.
I don't know if I'm in the right place. I don't know if the person I'm with will ever be able to touch me without feeling the scars you've left behind. I don't know where I'll be in a years time. I don't know where you'll be, or if we will ever "be" again. The only thing I know is that I am changed. I have grown from my pain, and experiences. I am still in the process of figuring out my path. I'm going to continue firing into the void. Maybe one day, my target will feel right. I hope you're happy. I hope you never settle. I hope you know I'm sorry.
I know that this is an odd way to begin writing once more. But this is what emerged when I opened myself up to the blank word document before me. That is going to be the goal of all future writing. To sit down, and bleed. No self-editing. No restriction. No contrived posts. Just me. As I am.
It feels as though I am the only thing that is holding this family together, and at the same time, this family is ripping me apart. Why must my existence be such an existential paradox? My parents and sister seem oblivious when it comes to fully taking care of themselves, much less supporting one another. I have never felt supported in this family. I'm used to being the quintessential "black sheep." I am constantly talked about behind my back, and never confronted. Watch out, don't say too much. Lindsey might have another mental breakdown. She needs to be medicated. I really think some nerve pills will help her. She would really benefit from going to church. Jesus will heal her. She isn't being her true self. Um, excuse me. Shut up. For two seconds. Firstly, the "true self" everyone seems to be referring to is the insecure basket case who was so unsure of herself and her place in the world, she was ready to kill herself at any moment. In what universe would a self respecting (or self righteous) set of parents want their child to be in that head space? Furthermore, why would you want your child to think that the only refuge from his or her struggles is a lifetime of mind-numbing medication? Where is the "sanity" in any of that?
I can feel my desire and all-around need to move out looming overhead like a giant storm cloud. I had a dream the other night in which the whites of my eyes were being taken over by darkness, in a manner eerily reminiscent of storm clouds. I had no idea what that dream could have been alluding to, and now, as I'm writing this, I am beginning to find some clarity. The eyes are the windows into the soul, and they are also the universal symbol for vision and clarity. I believe the dream was symbolic of my vision being clouded by outside sources of darkness, namely, my family. I know they mean well, however, their opinions are overall highly detrimental to my overall growth. If I'm feeling content and confident, just go with it. Please (that was a subliminal message to my parents, feel free to ignore the useless bargaining and dramatic pleas). Parents, do not dwell on the past that I am trying so desperately to move past.
I know that I was in a very dark place a few months ago, but I made the decision to move forward and into the light. I did that on my own. That was before the talk of medication, before the trips to see the therapist. I wanted to heal myself, and I did. I am. The healing process and battle against depression and anxiety is going to be a constant in my life. I know this. And the fact that I know this should be comforting to you. I am not seeking an easy way through my hardships; I am acknowledging their existence and choosing to see beyond them. In my opinion, that merits some good faith and some praise, not constant beratement.
I hope that in the coming months, I will have things set up so that I can move out of my family home as painlessly as possible. I need to start making a life for myself. Whether or not my family agrees with my lifestyle choices or not. At the end of the day, it's my life, and the choices I make are mine alone. I fear that a piece of me will always be unsure about my decisions because we all want approval from our families, even if we deny it. I also want my family to be taken care of, and I have been taking care of a lot for a long time. I have no idea how I, or any of my family, will adjust to my absence. I have been the man behind the curtain, silently running the show. I believe a lot of the turbulence that I have been experiencing in my home life is because the puppet-master (a.k.a. Me) has become preoccupied with her own dreams lately. The show is getting sloppy. No one is willing to pick up the slack, but everyone is at the ready when it comes to throwing tomatoes.
Pain, and trials are only temporary. I know there is a lesson to be learned from my suffering. I've had almost twenty-three years worth of good suffering under my belt, I am going to be a wise old owl one day. I am choosing each day to radiate positivity and self-confidence so that I may get myself closer to my goals. I would greatly appreciate any and all forms of positivity that could be sent my way. I really hope this post doesn't seem weepy or negative. I just needed a place to fully vent. I can't open up to my family. Things are simply too fragile to add more weight on the pile at this time. So, I'll just overwhelm you with my overwhelming existence. Hope you're enjoying this!
Time seems to be growing darker in the world with each passing minute. Unrest is reaching a record high in all areas of the global and local spectrum. With a Malaysian airline allegedly (at this time nothing is confirmed) being shot out of the sky over the Ukraine today, tension is growing. The world seems to be on the brink of a major disaster; at the hands of a few corrupt, power-hungry leaders and militant groups. Corruption is a vein that runs deep in this flawed world. I fear that if this vein is not cut off soon, evil is going to reign over this coming era in our existence.
Clearly, times are changing for a number of reasons and in a number of ways. I believe all instances of unrest are signs of the impending darkness that will befall mankind. The hearts and souls of humanity have strayed from their intended path. There are a few enlightened individuals out there who have remained steadfast on the path, but their numbers seem to be very small. I worry greatly for not only my future, but the future of those who are to come after my time has ceased. If things do make a drastic shift, there really is no future. There is only darkness.
I have been experiencing very turbulent interactions with those who are closest to me as of late. Relationships that were once very steady have grown unpredictable. It feels like the darkness is becoming not only visible, but tangible as well. I have always been very sensitive to emotions, but lately, my reaction to my environment has been very deep. Highs feel very high, and lows feel very low. My body has been picking up on things that my eyes have failed to notice. My sleep patterns have been all over the place. I am experiencing increased occurrences of migraine headaches, body aches, and seemingly random fatigue and bodily discomfort. I hope that in the coming days I am able to draw from these physical experiences and interpret them into clear messages.
I do not want to live in a world of darkness. I desperately hope I can find a way to dispel the negativity that is currently around me and my loved ones. I feel as though accomplishing that could have a domino effect and banish more of the darkness within the world. If not, I would feel better knowing those whom I care about are safe. When I was younger, I always had this terrifying, deep seeded fear of the apocalypse. I really don't know where this fear came from, but it has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I would always try to make myself feel better by telling myself that the end of days was not possible in my lifetime. Or that the idea of an apocalypse was ridiculous, and the stuff of fairy tales. Now my 'irrational' fears feel very plausible.
Living in fear of the future is not a headspace in which I wish to reside. I am trying to keep my focus on the light and on positivity. If we allow fear to take over our thoughts, it can hold power over our entire existence. I am going to remain optimistic that the future will create a space in which darkness is incapable of existing. More individuals will rediscover their intended path and allow humble light to guide them, as opposed to materialistic darkness. I am also going to do as much as I can to educate and spiritually protect myself as well as my loved ones. The more minds that are focused on radiating positivity, the more powerful. The smallest of lights has the power to illuminate even the deepest cracks of darkness. If we are spiritually strong, we can protect our future.
My challenge for you is to send love and light into this world every single day. One spark can start a wildfire. This world is going to burn one way or another, I would prefer that it burns with the fire of millions of illuminated souls.
So much has transpired since my last post. I feel like I am in a completely different place than I was a few months ago, hell, even a month ago. Time is such an underrated force. I don't really even know where to begin with my story. I could talk about the trips to the doctors and therapist. Or I could mention all of the failed dates and failed attempt to rekindle something with my ex. I could tell you all about the troubled relationship with my father, and the stress that accompanies hunting for a job. I could go into elaborate detail about my struggle to make plans for school. There has been a great deal of desire to move out. There were days when I wanted to simply stay in bed. Some days I felt like dying. Some days I felt nothing at all. I could tell you about all of the negative little occurrences that upset my state of being, but what would that truly accomplish? I'm not looking for pity. I'm not even looking for advice, really. Sharing negativity really does nothing except put focus on something that really doesn't deserve a second thought. Darkness does not need bonus rounds of attention. Darkness is always going to accompany light, but if we choose to place our focus on the light, the darkness really holds no power over us.
That might sound profound, or even a little too optimistic, or maybe it sounds ridiculous, I don't know. I do know that I have only very recently caught onto this idea of emphasizing the positive, and truly living for the light. As anyone could tell from reading some of my previous posts, I have lived a life in darkness for a very long time. Depression and anxiety ruled my universe for most of my life. What are these two creatures though, really? Anxiety is fear. Plain and simple. Fear of repeating the past, fear of the future, and fear of the unknown. I am quickly discovering that fear is an absurdly ridiculous emotion to linger on. If we allow fear to govern our lives and our actions, sooner or later, we will no longer act at all, and thus, cease to live. Fear stunts progress. I know this fact all too well, because I have been living in a stagnant place of darkness. Uncertainties paralyzed my every thought and action.
Once I was paralyzed, depression was able to rear its ugly head, and seep into every crack of my fragile existence. Depression is not simply sadness. Depression is a sickness. It corrupts our mind, body, and soul. A sick and immobilized body has no means of growth. For the longest time, I was always so confused as to why I was incapable of moving forward with my life. I was sick. The cure was not going to come from any outside source, though. The idea that therapy sessions, talks of anti-depressants, forcing myself outside of comfort zones in hopes that something would click, and I would snap out of the spiritual coma I was in, was ridiculous. The cure for my ailments was within me all along. The trouble was, it was laying dormant. I needed a nudge to discover it.
The past two months provided me with that nudge. Starting in May, I could feel my soul begin to truly awaken. Now, I believe that the nudge has been coming for about the past year, but I have only recently been fully aware and receptive to it. In May, I began to switch up my diet - eliminate unnatural foods, inflammatory gluten, discomforting dairy. I began working out, for the first time in my life, with the sole focus being on health, as opposed to weight-loss. I started believing in the power of meditation, crystal healing, and introspective soul searching, wholly. Sure, I had dabbled in these areas in the past, but I never completely committed. Essentially, May's focus was entirely upon personal health and healing.
To give this post a neat little bow of summation, I could just say to never give up. Time has a way of working in our favor, if only we allow it. Our focus should always be on the light; the light within and without. Darkness is a fact of this life, but it is never permanent. We are all capable of self healing and happiness. Happiness is not a 'find it and it's there forever' sort of thing, though. Happiness is a choice and it requires a conscious effort to maintain. We must always strive to make ourselves feel happy and loved before we can share that positivity with another. It feels so cliche to say that you must love yourself before you can love another, but it is so very true. My journey towards the light began with a determined shift towards self love, and it continues with maintaining that self-love and sharing it with others. I am just a human, and my struggle with anxiety and depression is going to be a lifelong ordeal. However, I am not afraid. I am equipped with the knowledge that we can all overcome our obstacles by placing our focus on the positive. Peter Pan's fairy dust was on point, happy thoughts truly can lift us into the air.
When life feels bleak and hopeless, look inward for that light that resides within us all. There, we will find the spark that is capable of igniting our soul. Stay strong, my friends, keep your face in the light and the shadows will have no choice but to fall behind you.
I've been trying so hard to get myself together, but every attempt I make blows up in my face. With my anxiety, I'm haunted by my past, the present, and an uncertain future. I keep replaying scenes from my life over and over in my mind. I wish I could change so much that has happened over the past few years. I've been living in this hollow shell. I have no idea how to find the marrow of life. I hope it's not lost forever. I just want to be happy again. I can fake it. I can feign happiness like a champ. But each performance leaves me feeling more empty. I wish I could go back in time, and pause the moment before I started my spiraling decent into unhappiness.
I have always had anxiety. It is a part of me. But when I found someone I was truly happy with, I forgot I was ever anxious a day in my life. The only nervousness I felt was the butterflies that would swell in my stomach when someone mentioned their name. I know it is foolish to put your happiness into another a person. That is unfair to them. It's a burden that will eventually grow too heavy. So maybe my actions were ultimately for the best. I'm trying to accept things as they come and not dwell on the future or in the past. I'm trying to be present. I've been looking for a therapist in my area. Maybe a few sessions will help me sort out the jumbled confusion that is my existence. We shall find out soon enough.
I feel as though I have been nothing but gloom and doom in my recent posts. That's not a conscious choice, I promise. Sometimes life gets unbearably depressing. It happens to all of us. The true test of a person's strength and character comes in the form of their reactions to the world around them. For far too long I have let outside forces control me; all of me. Which is one me too many. With the dawn of a new year upon us, I feel like this is as good a time as any to make drastic changes in my life.
One might assume that these changes would be external; take some pills to make the numbness of life feel less noticeable. I have this crazy theory that all of the changes I wish to see in my life need to begin within myself. I have been using other people and my own excuses to avoid my true problem; that problem being myself. I believe at the end of the day we all can either become our worst enemies, or our greatest ally. I have been fighting against myself for as long as I can remember. I numb my pain instead of confronting it. That ends now.
I am ready to feel again. I want to experience my life instead of simply tolerating it. We are all given a small allotment of time on this Earth. I don't know how much time I have left; none of us do. So instead of going out without a a pulse, I want to go out pulsing with the vibrancy of a life fully lived.
I have been working internally for a couple of months now. It's a tedious process, but I am already experiencing some changes. I have seriously taken up yoga. Not as a workout routine, which I did in the past, but as a soul routine. Yoga has been teaching me how to listen to my body, be grateful for my body, and how to control my body. All three of these areas have been a huge struggle for me in the past. To me, yoga is a mind, body and soul exercise. Every fiber of your being is focused on each breath and movement. For me, this is a revelation. I was so focused on avoiding my feelings, mistreating my body, and pretending that I was okay when I was not. I am by no means some grand yogi at present, I am simply a girl who is slowly beginning to feel like a whole person for once in her life.
I am not going end this post pretending like everything is finally at ease in my life. Every single day is a struggle. My anxiety comes and goes in waves; as does my depression. I am trying to work through my emotions instead of avoiding them or numbing them. The idea of accepting discomfort is a real challenge for me. I believe it's a difficult task for any person. I think our society today is based on avoiding confrontation, particularly with ourselves. The avoidance of personal confrontation probably explains why 18% of the population in the United States is being treated for anxiety and depression (there's no telling how many people are suffering in private like myself). This fear of confrontation also could explain the rapid increase of internet bullying. People find strength in anonymity. However, true strength can be found in the acceptance of the reflection in the mirror. Once we accept ourselves, we find that it is much easier to accept others.
I believe our society could function much more successfully if doctors took the time to prescribe mindful meditation as opposed to mindless medication. I am in no way saying that every mental illness can be treated without medication, but I do believe some reflection and self-awareness can do wonders. I am still in the beginning stages of my reawakening, and I don't know how far I can go on my own. I might end up needing anxiety medication down the road, but as my last resort. I want to be able to sit in that doctor's office knowing that I did everything in my power to save myself.
I'm finally ready to be my greatest ally. This relationship with myself has to start somewhere, so for me, it's beginning right here with this admission of my struggle; and on the yoga mat with the acceptance of my myself and the liberation of my mind. Namaste.
I don't really understand what sick pleasure the universe receives from hurting me, but it must feel ahh-mazing, because it keeps happening. It seems like I take one step forward, and start feeling positive about something, and in the blink of an eye, I'm knocked back fifty feet. I'm just to sick and tired, physically and mentally. I feel so beaten down, and I don't understand if this is some kind of karmic punishment, or something else.
Lately, I've been feeling utterly alone; in every sense of the phrase. It's like everyone around me is so preoccupied with other people and obligations that I'm just starting to slip away from everyone's view. There's always been some part of me that has felt invisible at one time or another, but now, I really am starting to believe that I am no longer a part of this world. I think I've always sought refuge from myself in others, but now there is nowhere to hide, and I am being faced with all my demons all at once, and I have no armor. What makes this so much worse is the fact that my depression makes me feels isolated even in the happiest of times, but now people, who I thought were close to me, aren't even noticing my absence; and it's starting to kill me.
When I say that people don't notice my absence, I mean that in a few ways. It can be little things, like at home, I'll be locked away in my bedroom for hours, yet no once seems to notice or care. Which, maybe I'm just being self-centered, and people are busy, and my whereabouts are not a priority. I don't want or need to be the center of anyone's universe, it just hurts when I hear my family laughing and talking, and carrying on. My anxiety makes me irrational at times, so I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion. However, to me, when this happens, it just feels like life would persist perfectly fine without me.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was actually having a really nice time with my family. I helped my mom make this huge meal, and it was really fun catching up with my family. Things actually felt pretty decent, which doesn't happen so much for me these days. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I decided to get on Facebook really quickly to see if someone had replied to a Birthday message I sent them. Getting on Facebook was probably the dumbest thing I could have ever done, especially at a time when I was feeling really good. ( I tend to avoid most forms of social media like the plague, because it just feels so fake, and at the same time, I depresses me, because even though I know no one could actually be having a time as fabulous as the one they are posting five million photos and statuses about, it still sucks to see people doing [seemingly] so much more with their lives than I am.)
The first thing that popped up on my Facebook feed was a photo of all of my best friends from High School. At first I smiled because they all looked like they were having a nice time, but then I realized that the photo was uploaded just moments ago, and at that exact moment all of the people who I still called my best friends had decided to get together for dinner, and I was not with them. I was not with them because not a single person, in a group of at least seven people, could be bothered to invite me. The fact that I was literally talking to my mom about my great friendships that had withstood grade school just days before really struck a nerve. In previous years, whenever this group (formerly called "our group" when I would talk to others about my great high school friends) would get together, there would be a group message on Facebook, and some texts would be exchanged to make sure we could all make it. I can only assume that the same string of events transpired, the only difference this time was the fact that no one cared or remembered to invite me.
I had never really felt like an actual member of this group, to be honest. I was always just a part of it because I had really tight relationships with at least two people in the group. While all of these friends went away to college our bonds loosened a bit, but at least two of these individuals stayed in actual contact with me. I called these two people my absolute, ride or die, best friends. Until the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I would have honestly died for these people. I had been through so much with them. Well, looking back, I had actually put up with too much from these people. I am just now beginning to realize that our friendships were very one-sided, and held together by a very thin bond. I had been the person left to pick up the pieces for these two countless times. When they needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there. When they needed relationship advice, or a place to vent, I was there. Looking back though, neither of these people were ever there for me like that. In fact, neither of these people, who I know so much about, know anything about the struggles I've been dealing with for years. Part of that could be because I'm quite secretive, but the main reason is because neither have ever put in any real effort to get to know the real me. They basically just used me. That fact hurts. No, it devastates me.
It was like everything I thought I knew came crashing down around me all at once. Friendships that I thought would withstand anything, were actually made of glass. So here I sit, sifting through years of friendship, getting cut by the shards of falsehood. When I saw the picture, I was angry, yes, but I really just wanted to burst into tears. I held them back though, until that night. I cried alone, in my pitch black bedroom, for what felt like an eternity. I always resort to crying in private. I suppose a part of me feels like the pain isn't as real or intense if no one can see it, especially if I can't see it. When you cry in the dark, you can feel the tears, but you don't have to see them. Seeing them is like accepting them, and pain isn't worthy of acceptance.
After this marvelous revelation on friendship, or my lack thereof, I just sort of felt empty. Well, I still fell empty. I mean, I still have my family, but it was nice believing that people who weren't genetically obligated to care about you, were concerned about your well-being. I've had nothing but time on my hands lately, and I've just been thinking about my life, and the path that I'm currently on. Most days, it feels like the world is moving forward all around me, and every day I'm just on auto-pilot, reliving this little loop of an existence. I have got to find a way to change my course, and get on a different, preferably linear, track.
Perhaps I can use my isolation to my advantage. A part of me wonders if the universe has a grand plan for me; I just have to accept the negatives and work through them, instead of trying to go around them. Maybe I'm supposed to be alone right now, so I can grow internally; find out the inner workings of my soul. Instead of having someone to run and hide behind so I don't have to face my fears, and myself alone, I am going to have to put on a brave face. I've viewed solitude as a negative thing for as long as I can remember, I guess I'm going to have to rework my thought processes. At the rate I'm going, I'm going to be alone my entire life (or at least for a large part of it), so I might as well get used to it, and make the most of it.
You know that feeling when you walk into a room with the intention of doing something or grabbing something, but as soon as you enter the room you cannot, for the life of you, remember what you were going to do or get? I feel like I'm perpetually living through that feeling. It's like I walked into the room of adulthood and now I cannot figure out what I was supposed to do here. It's like at one point, I must have known what I needed to do when I got here, but time, society, and self-doubt have faded my once clear intentions. Is there any chance of remembering my purpose in this life? Or am I doomed to walk through life aimlessly, hoping I'll eventually remember?
I've been doing a lot of soul searching and web searching in regards to my anxiety disorder. Initially, I had hoped that my research would lead me to some fantastical cure for my anxiety, or at least a highly effective coping mechanism. Both efforts failed pretty miserably. I did, however, reaffirm what I already knew, that I suffer severely from social anxiety disorder, or SAD (what a shitty, and highly accurate nickname for this condition).
I have been very "SAD" lately, and feeling hopeless. I've been experiencing all of the tell-tale signs and side effects of social anxiety disorder. I'm slowly becoming a reclusive shut-in, my relationships are suffering greatly, and my anxiety is trumping my ambition. My entire life has felt like a giant game of tug and war, and I'm always on the losing team. There's an old Native American tale (and I'm paraphrasing here) about how every person has two wolves battling inside of them for control over their spirit. One wolf is good, and the other is evil. Ultimately, we choose which wolf to feed, and allow to win. I feel like instead of having a good wolf and a bad wolf, I have an ambitious wolf and a severely depressed, slightly suicidal wolf, who simply wants to stay in bed all day and eventually just die in its sleep so it doesn't have to face another battle with life.
I know that is probably one of the most depressing things you've ever read, it's one of the most depressing things I've ever written. (We can just marinate in this depressing statement for a moment, if you'd like. It might give the rest of what I have to say a bit more of an impact. So let's simmer here for one more second . . . yes, my life really is as tumultuous as that statement alludes. Pretty bleak stuff, isn't it? I think we've simmered long enough, back to your regularly scheduled blog post)
Since dropping out of school, I've not really done a whole lot of anything. My parents are urging me and expecting me to get a job, or try to start some online classes. The thing is, I get anxiety thinking about the amount of anxiety trying to hold down a job will cause me. For the most part, I can hide my anxiety, (or so I think) no one outside of my immediate family, other than my neighbor, who is like a little brother to me, so I lump him into family, even knows that I suffer from any kind of anxiety. In school, people just thought I was shy, or a nerd, or a bitch (I got called of the above, and picked on for years, which looking back, probably only heightend my social anxiety). Hiding the level of anxiety that I experience on a daily basis in social situations is exhausting. It's like running a mental marathon. Part of my condition causes me to obsess over minute details and constantly live in fear that I am being judged. With a job, you are constantly being judged on how well you handle details, and if you mess up, you don't get paid. It's a terrifying thought for me to wrap my head around. I so desperately want to be independent and self-sufficient, but my anxiety is physically debilitating.
If I want to postpone getting a job, I have to seek out some form of education. The only thing is, I have no idea what I want to do, or what I can do. School has always been one of the greatest sources for my anxiety. I am incredibly smart and capable of breezing through any course, (that's not intended to sound arrogant) but the physical act of attending a class paralyzes me with fear. When I am sitting in a classroom, I am constantly bombarded with waves of fear. I feel like everyone is judging me, and staring at me, and just waiting for me to slip up and say or do something stupid. I've always sat in the back of classrooms (if possible) to avoid the eyes of my peers boring into the back of my head. When professors ask a question to the class, I always know the answer, but I physically cannot raise my hand to answer it out loud (the worst teachers are the ones who just want you to blurt out an answer without even raising your hand. I've always thought those teachers were put on this Earth for the soul purpose of trying to kill me).
Sure, there are online classes, but even those freak me out. With an online class, there is still electronic correspondence with instructors. Writing an email to a professor takes every fiber of my being, because I don't want to look like an idiot. I obsess over every period and comma. I actually have to psych myself up just to open up a blank email tab, because I'm that terrified of speaking (actually just typing) to another human being. Furthermore, when it comes down to deciding on what to major in, I'm lost. I am interested in many areas, and capable of doing so many things (well, capable if we remove the anxiety cards from the table), but I have to consider my SAD when it comes to planning my career path. This is a world that thrives on communication, the one thing I dread most in life. There aren't really many jobs out there that cater to people who can't order a sandwich in public without rehearsing their order a thousand times in their head before the waitress comes, so they don't appear ignorant.
Based on my research, the best career for people who suffer from anxiety is actually writing. The one thing I enjoy doing most in this world. The only problem is that this is a very difficult career to make a living in. Trust me, homegirl isn't getting a dime off of this blog, and she doesn't anticipate any cash coming in anytime soon. Who wants to pay a whiney shut-in to write about being a whiney shut-in? No one. Perhaps if I had some connections in the literary world? But connections require communication, and I can't even communicate with my friends. I've avoided Facebook for months. One, because the site is completely overrated (who actually gives a shit about Farmville?) and two, I don't want to look like a complete loser without a job or a college degree. Want to know what's really depressing, the fact that the people I thought were my friends haven't even tried to get in touch with me outside of Facebook. I've not gotten a text or phone call in months. What a great morale boost, eh?
So here I am, completely alone, with no idea what I am going to do with my life. A part of me wants to look into therapy of some sort, but cognitive behavioral therapy and some antidepressants really don't sound all that swell. I don't have many people to talk to, because no one really understands what I'm going through, and not many people seem to care enough to even try and understand. Maybe this huge sense of isolation is the main reason people with SAD end up offing themselves at some point. (Don't worry, I'm not at that point yet) I just wish I knew where to begin when it comes to getting better.
Lindsey. Twenty-Five. Currently pursuing a degree in Professional Writing & Film Studies.