I hate social media

Image result for social media

I hate social media. I have recently renewed my facebook account and started over. I was tired of seeing memories from years ago pop up in my feed. My page was not myself anymore. I am not all about family venues, friends, and adventure. I am all about anxiety, depression, binge-eating, and marital concerns.

I get depressed because of social media. I can mindlessly scroll for hours down my feed looking at what others have posted. For pretty much the duration of my relationship with Jacob, I have been absent from social media. I quit because it was too risky when I had an obsessively possessive new boyfriend. I had no privacy whatsoever; he looked through my phone and got paranoid at every notification, every ding. He smothered me and made me give up all my friends, and I did it because I was going through something in my life. I naturally went down a different path than my friends, choosing to fall into drugs and alcohol. My friends found other methods to cope with their problems, and bully for them.

I’ve been caught up in trying to forget my problems. I have been lazy and trying to get comfy living in my own hole of depression. When my depression is at its worst, I convince myself nothing is wrong and ignore everything fantastically.

Until I wake up one day months from now, and realize I’ve been on auto-pilot. I haven’t been paying attention. Weeks go by and you realize how little you care for yourself, how thinking of yourself and trying to tend to your needs is painful. It’s painful being aware of your shortcomings and trying to accept them. Better to be stoned and not bothered about it.

For a while.

There always comes the moments when you wake up. You look around and realize you don’t live the life you want to have. You realize you’re miserable and you were doing so well pretending otherwise. You didn’t realize you were such a good actor. Or worse, perhaps no one is paying attention.

Are you calling out for help? No, you’re too afraid to be yourself. How can you be vulnerable in front of people and admit you have hang-ups? Today was oddly strange. I worked the overnight shift & had a conversation I may not have otherwise. A girl at work confided in me her struggles getting therapy now and when she was younger. How candid I was admitting I had the same problem. How can you afford them? We talked about depression medication and the effect it had on us.  We talked about psychology. I would normally – never in a thousand years – admit to someone I don’t know well that I’ve dealt with depression before. There’s still such a stigma attached to mental illnesses, it’s daunting admitting that you have one.

No one wants to hear about my problems. I keep them to myself, and I drown in all the turmoil they cause me. My husband doesn’t like me to be honest with him. He would rather me keep things to myself. When I try to expose my deepest hurting to get some relief, he is incapable of providing the comfort I seek. He doesn’t relish me being such a deep feeling individual. His emotional intelligence is not quite on par with mine. He takes things the wrong way and gets defensive. We fight.

He resents my mental illness. He doesn’t understand. He takes my illness personally. He thinks we don’t have sex at long intervals because I’m withholding on purpose. I’m sorry but my libido along with my spirits are DOWN IN THE DUMPS & YOU’RE NOT HELPING.

I have a feeling that my anxiety, depression, and drug use are a question the likes of which came first, the chicken or the egg? Does my self medicating cause me depression, or am I depressed because I am self medicating? Does the weed cause or ease my anxiety? I know that when I quit smoking, I have to take more anxiety meds. My depression is much worse when I am detoxing. I become quite morose during sober periods. I take offense much easier. I am emotionally raw and sensitive to every little utterance. I require more attention, love, and support. I am a pain in the ass when I am sober. I hate myself when I’m sober.

I hate myself now, too, but it’s easier to convince myself I’m okay when I feel like this. I can ignore the self-loathing when I am like this.

About four years ago, my mother admitted to me that my dad wasn’t my biological father. This fact alone is jarring, especially when you have believed he was your crappy dad for the past two decades. A chance to receive your genetic material from someone else! You think it could be someone great, could be someone you would be lucky to know, maybe?!

You’re not that lucky. Imagine my dismay when my mother told me her alcoholic ex gang-banging Mexican lover was my biological dad? And she wants me to accept this, everyone in my family says it’s an opportunity for us to be a family together finally. My mother is over the moon in love and thinks I should welcome him with welcome arms.

When he finds out, he instantly wants to claim me. He suspected I was his all those years ago, but he wrote me off when my mother rejected him. He loves me and is thrilled at the thought of having such an accomplished daughter when he comes from nothing. He treats me like I am golden and stands up for me when my mom says unkind things.

He is surprisingly more like me than I want to admit. He is sympathetic and generous with his words- and who am I, but a fool that wants to listen to pretty words?

I’m starved for sentiments of love, out loud declarations of how great I am. No one tells me I am beautiful or amazing. No one appreciates me. No one wants to know the real me. But he does, and I hate him for it.

I would like to hate him, but really I ache for him. I want his sentiments to be true, for his actions to back up his words. But I have yet to feel it. I doubt it. I doubt him.

My father keeps invading my life. He sends me a message one day weeks ago and I still feel bad about it everyday. How to beg someone to leave you alone and spare their feelings?

Consumed by guilt and resentment. Want to forgive and move past things, but then I find myself taking one step forward and three steps back. I was willing to talk to him and have a relationship with him and now I am stingy with my time again.

Why should I make time and spend mental energy on you, what do I owe you? Why do you shit on my life and make me feel bad? You were absent for so many years, why don’t you just keep doing that?

I don’t want to expose myself- fuck you, you’ll only hurt me in the end. I know you’re not worth it. I know I will regret knowing you.

This is the stuff that is really on my mind. People think I am a cool customer, that I never get mad and just roll with the flow. I try to appear that way, but really I am eating myself up inside. I want to talk about my shitty marriage, depression, and dad issues but who wants to hear it? Who will be my friend when I am just so utterly down? It is my habit to turn away from depressed people, so I expect to be rejected.

Advertisements

What are you doing? I don’t recognize you.

A look in the mirror and she’s the same in the face but older in the eyes. (read this Hey Arnold fanfiction I read that in, it is AMAZING)

between the shadow and the soul by ashleykay
Thursday was deep and hot and when she woke it was to sticky wet sheets and a feeling that the world had not changed.
Words: 5,912 Chapters: 2/5 Comments: 11 Kudos: 20 Bookmarks: 4 Hits: 317

Image result for i tried not to think but the silence was a killer too

Today I have hardly slept. That is nothing new. However, the activities I was engaged in this morning were truly astounding to me. Jake and I have been talking about building for our future. I astonished the hell out of myself by walking back onto that college campus, sight and reminder of my past failures.

Image result for osu

My first time around in college I regrettably slacked off. I wasted my time and their money. I couldn’t be bothered to do homework, and I slept through classes. I had to drop math 3 times because of the combination of those two problems. It took me forever to finally knock it out.

I lost focus while I was in school, preoccupied with my mother’s problems and my own woes and dating a stupid alcoholic. I dropped out of college with one class standing between me and my business degree. I just stopped going because the class was too hard, and I’d already taken the class once before. I was too proud to get tutoring, and I didn’t care enough to try so I just quit.

Four years later, and I was standing in the orange office again. My hands were trembling when I first noticed how nervous I felt. I had this sensation that someone was going to drop the bullshit smiles and look at me honestly and say, “Are you really sure about coming back? Looks like you weren’t too interested the first time.”

I don’t know how interested I am, but I still did it. I enrolled in classes to start in the Fall, or at least they are pending right now. At any rate, I started the goddamn process, and I am utterly stunned at myself. What are you doing, helping yourself? *shock of disbelief, I am so good at standing in my own way*

Visit postsecret.com for more inspiring messages, this one caught my attention.

I am surprised at myself because I am such a lazy person. I don’t know how I convinced myself to actually go and submit myself to the torture that is rising early for classes and actually applying my intelligence to something. Except I do know how, and it’s very disconcerting to me honestly.Image result for mexican baby cartoonI am interested in perusing a dietitian degree. I want to turn my life around. I have a window of about 3-5 years to birth healthy babies, and I want to make myself healthy enough to house a little one. I don’t want kids now, but I need to build the house for them for when they do come. I want to be healthier sooner.

Image result for you will wish you started today

I look at myself in the mirror and I body-shame myself. I see my meaty arms and thighs and love handles and what I really see is cushy defeat and sorrow in all that fat. It’s like I’ve given up, but that’s not really so. I just have forgotten how to act like I care about myself.

I’ve spent so much time trying to numb myself to the things I’d rather not think about that I have robbed myself of true pleasure. I am always engaging in false pleasures, fleeting feelings. The feeling of not giving a fuck inevitably goes away until you smoke again. Smoke, or go crazy unable to escape your own thoughts.

Image result for i tried not to think but the silence was a killer too

I have established a new school of discipline for myself. It’s actually pretty funny! Hubby and I have been obsessed with watching Gordon Ramsay and all his TV shows. Master Chef, Master Chef Junior, The F word, Kitchen Nightmares, Hotel Hell. Emulating Gordon Ramsay landed my husband a promotion at the hospital kitchen he works in.

Our respect for him is very obvious. I have watched him so much that now when I am sitting down to eat, I actually look at my meal and say to myself, “Gordon Ramsay wouldn’t want me to eat this.” I usually just ate robotically in the past until way past the point of full. Lately I have been limiting my portions and I have avoided splurging on things that I know are bad for me by constantly reminding myself of what he would say about my food choices.

Image result for gordon ramsay memes

I haven’t taken care of myself because of ignorance. Now I am going to seek education and do better with it. I want to change my life and my motivations and be different than I am today. I want to give up the drugs and sedentary life style and be someone better. I guess I was so surprised because I actually took the first step today, instead of just thinking or talking about it. I don’t know if I can actually do it, accomplish getting up in the mornings and being more of a regular and responsible person, but I guess all I can do is try.

1 Million & 1 Thoughts Presented By Me

When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize you. “Ooooh, I wanna make up my mind, but I don’t know myself.” -Mike Snow

If you’ve ever read the book Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates might be familiar with this concept. You become deeply depressed and mentally disturbed by the fact that you don’t actually know what you want- that’s why you do what you do, why you infuriate you- you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know what you want. And if you don’t know either of those, then you don’t know yourself.

It’s a horrible feeling when you stop to think about it. That’s just it, you don’t think about it most of the time. You play your life on loop day after day, and before you realize it you’re sobbing uncontrollably and losing your shit. You didn’t realize you were so unhappy, and the shit hits the fan all at once. You feel a tremendous amount of anxiety and grief, a horrible feeling of somehow being out of control of yourself. So melancholy and suddenly obsessed with all these perceived short comings now that you’re thinking about it.

I’ve been stressed at work lately. The schedules keep falling to shit and we are desperately short on people and I feel pretty pressed most of the time. I get too many people in my face and this weekend played havoc on my stress and anxiety levels. It was just wall to wall people, completely sold out for several nights in a row and to top it off we had a loud, family reunion congregating in my lobby and the amount of noise was out of control. I felt transported to back when there were pep rallies at school and how loud it was. I could barely stand people to talk to me and add one more thing to my list to do. I hated people on Thursday, I was ill all day and having a bad digestion day. I popped at least 4 anxiety pills that day.

Then, on Friday before it was time to go into work, I had an anxiety attack at my home. I was contemplating getting ready for work and doing my hair, and suddenly I noticed my hands were shaking and I was short of breath. I was slightly late because I had to make myself calm down before I could drive to work.

So, as you might have surmised, things are not necessarily going well with the new boss. She is letting me do things I would rather drop. I use to do a lot of the role because I was trying to get the job, and now it’s my turn to let go of a little. But that’s not what’s happening….

I feel like the new boss isn’t measuring up. I guess I was expecting a lot better, but instead this lady is gutzilla and is messier than me!! I tried so hard to be clean and make a first good impression, and the first day I met her, she left a huge mess for me to clean! And that has been a pattern for her so far, unfortunately. I dislike it heartily. I’m having to train my new boss and it’s aggravating. I want her to take more initiative. That’s not too much to ask.

Small things make me happy too, sometimes. I awoke from a wonderful dream earlier today. In my dream, the whole family was there. It was still sad news, because Granny was sick but not with diabetes. We were all seeing her off, like a final good bye party but at this party everyone was happy. She had both her legs and was standing next to Grandpa arms linked, and she was youthful and happy, her smile exuberant. I only remember it being that way in pictures. We were all wishing her goodbye.

I’ve felt particularly wistful about her lately, what with my nuptials and all. I feel excited because I know she will be present, she would not miss my day. Even beyond the grave, Granny will come to me and I will her spirit to enter the room, gladden everybody’s hearts. She was such a wonderful woman, and it will feel wonderful to feel her near again. I’ve missed her so much. Please help heal everyone, all of us, even beyond the grave. Your reach is that far, you can still reach us. I know you can help mend my mother, you can help my aunt and me, too. You always did. I miss you so much.

New Boss, New Beginnings

What kind of first impression do you make?


You Make A Great First Impression

You can handle almost any social situation with grace, even the tricky ones. Strangers often find you charming and interesting.

You are often remembered fondly. Even if you’re not naturally outgoing, you can make conversation with anyone if you need to.

Whether you were born this way or had to work to get here, you are definitely charismatic.

You’re popular and well liked. People definitely look forward to being around you.

Your social connections bring you a full and rich life. You understand how important it is to make a lasting impression.

I’ve been off for two days and tomorrow I go in to a new boss. I have already heard dubious things from my coworker. She’s starting out with a bad rep in my mind, but I have to make a good first impression nonetheless.

Before the new boss started, I was frantic to clean the office and make sure things looked organized. I didn’t want her to find a mess, or some team she needs to whip into shape. I want us to be a good team to manage, not some team that exasperates her, which sometimes they/we do. Sometimes our work is not satisfactory, because we all rush or our fingers get ahead of us sometimes. We forget little details, and they add up over time. I’m anxious.

I have to go in with my A game. I’ve been running at a lower percentage lately, barely putting any effort into my personal appearance. It’s kind of like I have a guy nailed down, who else do I need to impress? I’ve been lazy and slept in bed until the last possible second, and now I have to change that habit.
I will do better. There is always room for everyone to improve.

My own success weighs heavy on me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOBY!!!!

My boss gave his two weeks notice. Now people will look at me, pay attention to when I show up for work and how I behave. My responsibilities will increase and my hours as well. I will make hard calls, keep up with purchasing in all regards. I will make schedules, update need to know information. I will have to check the sales ladies information, because she’s a little spacey at best.

I got pulled over by a highway patrol the other day. I was going to try on wedding gowns and I told him I was late. Now, it has been some time since I got pulled over on the highway, and I accidentally made him follow me for awhile, not knowing what to do. I just took the nearest exit off the highway because that’s what made sense to me.

However, when he caught up to me, he was quite irate. He was sarcastic and mean. He saw I definitely need corrective lenses to drive and he was like, “So you can see. Don’t know why you’d blow past a highway patrol like that.” Well, obvs… I didn’t see you lol

He ended up coming back to the car and he had only written me a warning. He let me off, and said it seems like there is a lot going on in your life, and you need to pay more attention while you’re out here on the road.

Pay attention. I guess you could say that has been hard. I have paid attention while my waistline expands and paid attention to my sudden spikes in anxiety. The prospect of being the big boss is making me want to run the other way and not step up to the plate, I want to be lazy and stay where I am but not if it means anyone will think less of me. I regretted it the last time I didn’t take a management role and I had the opportunity to. I was jealous when I let my last opportunity go, at our hotel I could really have things good if I could just get my personal affairs in some semblance of order.

My life falls apart around my ears. Nothing is really wrong with it, but everything is. I eat all night out of boredom and don’t care that I am supposed to be minding my p’s and q’s and watching out for the deadly disease that killed my grandma; diabetes. I am a likely candidate, and still I stuff my face.

As if that is not enough, I worry all the time about my parents. My parents who make me feel ashamed whenever I spare the time to think on them. I feel like I never say anything real to them, because I keep my anger to myself. I let them think I’ve adjusted to the way things are and that I’ve forgiven them their youthful foolishness.

My mother was a beautiful teenager. She had many suitors at the time she became pregnant. There was speculation about who the father could be, each candidate less desirable than the last. She had (and still does have) horrible taste in men, and they were all related to gang activity in some way.

The real story of my birth is that during the time my mother was pregnant, my father was carted off to rehab against his will. He had a record and he had to go, and he had no way to call my mother in those days and tell her what happened. He asked his mother to go and explain, but she never did.

When Johnny was released from rehab and knew my mother had a baby, he came to see if I was his. The story goes that when he came to the door, my uncle answered the door and told him my mom didn’t want to see him no more. She had moved on, as any young beautiful girl would once she’s assumed the father of her illegitimate baby has disappeared on her. She chose another man to be my father in his absence, and she had to stick with the story.

Johnny went away, mad at her. If she didn’t want him, he didn’t want her. He thinks I have forgiven him for this, that they were young and somehow I guess not at fault for that reason alone. He called me on Father’s Day to tell me how proud he is I was his first creation and that he thinks our connection is very important. I wanted to say very badly, “Yeah, it was real important the first 20 years of my life.”

He knew about me. He could have tried harder. He wrote my mother and me off. Maybe he wasn’t completely certain he was the father, but you would think a guy would not rest until he found out before he gave up. They were young, and he didn’t want me. No one wants a baby when they’re that young. I still feel upset though, that my heritage was hidden from me. It was for the best, since Johnny would not have been a good dad for me either, growing up. I was better off with the family I had. It makes it hard though sometimes, I feel alienated from him in that way. He had all that time to try and seek me out, and he never did. Now you think you can worm your way in so easily….?

Anxiety City Here I Come

My boss told me this weekend that he is quitting for sure now. He turned in his two weeks notice today v____v I had hoped to stall him as much as possible, and now I will be lost. They will make me a salary employee and now they will own my ass. My mind will be that much more occupied by work. I am already worried if I can do the job. I know I will be able to because I already do much of it now…. but I’m still nervous.

I don’t think it’s only because of the possible promotion at work. I also got side tracked and didn’t realize my wedding is pretty much ONE MONTH AWAY!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!! *excited, but mostly stressed about everything that has to be done* I’ve been particularly stressed about getting our invites out on time, and the main objective in getting that done is getting our pictures taken. I desperately want this, but it keeps getting postponed.

I picked this picture of the lips because I’ve been having worrying symptoms lately. I guess I stopped taking my depression pills consistently and I’m being affected.That combined with the stress and other factors in my life have me standing around, when suddenly I just start to feel this tingling sensation in my lips and feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m not even doing anything stressful when this happens to me, but it’s happening more frequently. How am I supposed to get married now if Latta is gone!!! *wails*

I just don’t know how I’m going to accomplish all of this….. *pulls hair out*

The Lady in Red is a Lie

On the outside:

lady

On the inside:

Affirmations

I care about myself.
My body and my mind are important to me.
I will make better, healthier decisions on my own behalf.

I will practice mindfulness and gratitude each day.

I deserve my own self-care. If I don’t take care of myself, how can anyone else rely on me to help take care of them?

********************************

My life to me seems like one of the sad indie movies only I would appreciate. Filled with melancholy, a person confused and just messing everything up. I find myself thinking of my artist days when I was younger. I loved being a part of an artistic community and attending weekly poetry readings. We were just a bunch of reckless freaks trying to express ourselves. We might fuck everything up, but at least we were free to make our own mistakes and write about them later.

I miss expressing myself more often. I used to draw and write and journal a lot. I miss that part of myself. I just don’t have the quiet in my mind to accomplish it half of the time. I feel so weird and misunderstood. Sometimes Jake gets angry at me, offended at my sadness for no apparent reason. He thinks there’s something wrong with him, that I’m somehow not satisfied, and I have to tell him over and over again it’s not about him.

I’ll be 26 in little under two days. That was always my scary age as a young 20 something. I used to always figure- I should be established in my career by that point in my life. I should have found the man I want to be with the rest of my life, be getting married. I should be able to take care of myself and function as an adult, be independent.

It seems like everything is on track. To the naked eye, looking at me, it would seem I have those things I have wished for. Latta my boss is almost one foot out the door at my current job and I am devoted to Jacob and will become his wife in less than two months (!!!)

But still yet, when I am alone or at my home, I am a failure in my own skin. I am filled with angst and woe. I worry that I don’t show enough caring for my ailing mother, that my Grandma would be ashamed to see my lack of involvement in her life. Simple things overwhelm me, and I find it difficult to get dressed and leave the house. I don’t talk to any of my would-be friends.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a dampening in my spirits. Everyday I don’t write or meditate, my mind is a jumbled mess and more and more gets piled on. I yearn for a therapist almost as much as I long for a friend. Lately, I stuff my face every night and eat way past the full point, and I don’t see any sign of stopping. My body is cumbersome to me, I get ashamed and don’t want to have sex. I intrinsically feel that I do not want to feel pleasure, do not deserve pleasure. I get embarrassed of myself. I see myself expanding, and I just start wearing looser clothing and trying to ignore how my wardrobe keeps dwindling smaller and smaller. I don’t feel comfortable in most of my clothes, the skin in which I reside makes me restless. I have too much anxiety, and I don’t take my meds regularly. I never sleep in the night, and I can’t drag myself out of bed in the afternoon before work. I barely take care of myself, and it feels like I’m falling apart and all the pieces spilling through my hands faster than I can repair myself.

I’ve felt far away from myself, a thinness of presence. I barely listen to Jake sometimes and have no idea what he’s just said. I feel like there’s a bottomless pit of despair inside me being barely concealed by a smile. How do I fool all of you?

Or Am I?