HERE’S A FUN THING:
I was talking to a guy who was literally 5’2 and fifty, he got in my personal space, and we went from having an awesome conversation to me getting super laggy and him asking if I take drugs or medication.
Also he insisted that we talked last night, which, yeah, I was mostly home last night, or at least not wandering around talking to random people.
- GODDAMNIT, LIFE, I QUIT BLACKOUT DRINKING, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
- I have mastered the art of silent anxiety attacks, but they’re so fucking stealthy that I’m unaware/dissociated from them that either the person I’m talking to notices that I get super fucking spacey, or eventually I notice that my heart is pounding and the person I’m talking to is impossible to understand.
Also I no longer have insurance, and I’m being more social, which unfortunately requires a certain amount of drug and alcohol use to do successfully. So I feel kind of fucked about this situation. Like I’m trying to be a good employee, develop friends, lose weight (down 100 now!), find a successful relationship, leave the past behind me, and survive sans medication and why does this shit have to be in my face all the time?
Literally, my (last) ex started checking my heart rate at certain points…”Well, shit, she seems not to know what’s going on again, better preform a manual check, here…”
I’ve had panic attacks for a long time, and “cured” them for a long time with self-injury, alcohol, and drugs. So there’s like this weird thing with me where I don’t show it, and actually am pretty much unaware of what’s going on with me, until I notice I can’t follow follow the conversation and I become aware that my heart is pounding in my chest.
I kind of wanted to be done with being the “obviously crazy girl who’s really sweet and fun to use with”. and I somehow I manage to find this guy who’s in psychology, and bammmmm I think I’ve been through this thing like 3 times now, can I be fucking done please. Jesus fuck. I’ve actually done this significantly once before, feel like I wandered away from that again…
Like the love for weird is appreciated, but I feel like there’s a fine ass line between trying to figure out a person’s brain and help potentially and digging in their to exploit weaknesses.
All I’m saying is that I picture this nightmare scenario where I’m dating a guy who trains me to jump through a hoop, bark three times and idk what goes after that, but nothing good.
It’s the weakness that bothers me. I would literally prefer someone think I’m a sociopath/acting fucked up intentionally than know how afraid I am of everything and how many issues I have with functioning. I just feel so tainted by my past and history…it’s a lifelong thing really, but a shorthand description of my twenties sounds like “graduated high school with honors, despite being kinda math retarded, better with words than anything else, dropped out of a college three times, 5 year relationship with woman, pulmonary embolism from birth control delved into drinking a bottle of whiskey for a night for months? years?, pills, iv’ing, brief period of sleeping with all the men ever, has a leg that breaks when she’s fucking standing on it, and then turns into a functional shut-in by 30.
Like im the Ron Burgundy of fucking up.
Oh, throw in a brain tumor at age 8. I can’t talk about myself without sounding and feeling like a pathelogical liar at this point. Like, my perceptions are so limited, but so are everyone’s but I just doubt anything and everything that comes out of me at this point. It’s just too much, dude.
COULD I BE GODDAMN NORMAL FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES HERE. This is an exhausting life.
I feel so incredibly disociated from all of this, it’s just disgusting and painful.
I just hate how I’m basically a fucking mental case no matter what I goddamn do. It’s like I confused therapists and a psychiatrist for years, at this point I have to consider myself vaguely an “anxiety oriented cluster B clusterfuck”, but literally, my ex was pretty convinced that I had multiple personalities, besides the obvious ever-present anxiety element.
Who fucking knows or cares, really, there might be good sides to me, but this existence is a fucking slow-motion trainwreck at this point. Like I don’t really know what to do with myself anymore, so I’m just kind of reverting, which isnt good…but I also need people, would like to have friends that get me and also won’t like, kill me, basically, but that doesn’t seem to be possible.