... But I feel the need to vent. I can't keep living with this anxiety and stress, so I'm hoping that at least writing it all down with help me ease it in some ways. And if anyone reads it just know it's not directed at anyone in particular, it's all on me. I'm the one that's stressing myself out and I'm not entirely sure why. I just know that it needs to stop. I feel like it's already gone way too far in some regards. In a lot of ways actually.
So first off, last week was my birthday. Normally my birthday's aren't really great to begin with. But I think I stressed this one into being extra shitty, and I'm probably always going to regret it, but there's nothing I can do about it now except try to move on and learn from my mistakes. That's the only thing anyone can do from any situation like this.
Tuesday: day before pay-day No money, no food, and a full day of work in which no one even actually knew it was my birthday. That's okay, I just work with these people, I don't remember their birthdays, I don't celebrate with them or their families. Tradition is on your b/day you bring in cake and everyone gets a slice.
Okay, so no money means no cake, so I'm not expecting anyone at work to remember. I did get lots of messages on my Facebook and on my phone which made my day. I'll go back and re-read them all when I feel more up to it. I need to smile but I know right now they'll just all make me depressed again. Got home and it kinda just hit me how.... Normal that entire day was. We couldn't even have anything for dinner because we had no food left, and no money to get anything.
Tuesday ended in tears, mostly over how absolutely pathetic I feel. I can't even provide food for myself and my fiancé And I know it drives him nuts too, knowing that we couldn't have a nice meal, a bit of cake, or that he couldn't get me a present. I know that he wants to, and that it upset him that he can't. But while he's on a tourist Visa he's not legally able to work, thus earn income to help provide for us. I had when he gets upset about it. Hate watching the pain on his face when those moments come around; when we have no food, when we have a bill come in, when he sees something he would love to buy me... And we just simply don't have the spare funds for it.
My birthday ended in tears. I broke down. I cried. I sobbed. I sat outside in the cold, and I let the rain hide it as best I could. I tried to at least let go of everything. But I guess I failed. I felt no better afterwards. Just sad and pathetic. More so than usually. Eventually I tried to suck it up. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be, right?
Wednesday: pay-day I sat down in the morning and I ever so carefully budgeted for the next fortnight. I double checked all our bills, I made sure we were up-to-date on everything. I rearranged my standard payments to make sure there was enough for everything, including food as well as to pay off the one overdue bill I knew we had.
And I still managed to fuck it up. (See Friday)
I went to work, I bought cake, I got more congrats and birthday wishes. I had a fairly decent day at work I guess. For the most part. Halfway through the day I discovered the may Lush lip scrub exploded in my bag though. It almost set me crying again, it wasn't cheap stuff, but its made of sugar and oils and it granulated everywhere. I lost half of it because I couldn't just scoop it back into the container. I had to empty my bag and tip it out over the bin.
Oh well, its just a material possession, right? I never used too much anyway. So its no great loss. Kept telling myself that, my brain just didn't want to believe it. It never does. It always gets far too upset over the small things. And I feel like I can't control it no matter how much I try. Its actually part of a mental disorder I have called HSC - Hyper self Criticism. Something I've had for a long time but didn't actually understand til last year. I'll come back to that.
So after a fair abysmal day at work with a rampaging boss, a broken lip scrub, and shitty work, all I wanted to do was get home. Just go home, have a decent dinner, have some cake and ice cream, and chill with my fiancé Unfortunately that wasn't meant to happen. I ran from work, only to be reminded that he had to go out to meet up with someone who was giving us a free WiFi card for my computer, seeing as mine decided that internet on my PC was completely optional and that I didn't really need to load anything or watch anything or DO anything.
I also got informed that one of my rats had passed away. Not the news I wanted to hear that day at all. I've had them for 3 years or so now, and I love them ever bit as much as the day that I got them. Like my cats, they are my babies. My children. I love and care for them as much as if they were my children. They are not -just- pets to me. And that day one of them passed away. All I wanted to do then was curl up and cry. To breakdown and grieve, but I couldn't. I still had to get home. A train and a bus ride, home to an empty house with no one to comfort me.
And I couldn't even bury her because it was far too dark by the time I got home, and cold and wet and windy. I said my goodbye, and had dinner with my fiancé when he got home. And then curled up in bed in the warmth and once again tried not to cry, telling myself that it'll pass in time too.
#FuckThursday: it has it's own hashtag on twitter. I have a long-standing history with Thursdays They do not like me. They never have. And its not simply a matter of my attitude affecting the day. I can be happy as a lark when I start my Thursdays and it will end in pain. It always does.
Thursday started with pain though. I had to bury Poit. I couldn't leave her there. I had to give her some sort of burial. In the backyard. Was going to lay her to rest under a tree, but the ground was hard-packed and I had nothing to dig with. I had to do the best I could and laid her in a shallow grave beside the shed, under a rock to keep prey away. I said my goodbyes and I rushed off to work.
Wasn't until I was finally on the train that I realised I'd split open a knuckle and scratched my hand in the process. I also didn't wash them as thoroughly as I should have. Didn't notice til I was halfway to work that I still had dirt in them. So first thing when I -finally- got to my desk - washed my hands, applied iodine (forgot how much that fucking stings like a bitch), put on a band-aid and attempted to work. Hard when your primary index finger won't bend and all you do is type all day.
But I soldiered on anyway, and did the best I could. Getting home wasn't fun either. Generally I have my run home timed so that I get a tram, a train, and a bus home. Usually I work it so that there's minimal wait time at each stop. #FuckThursday decided to fuck me over big time and threw a bomb scare in at the courthouse around the corner. No trams, no buses, no traffic at all. All surrounding roads were closed, so I had to walk to the train station. I don't so much mind the walk as I do the fact that it threw out my schedule. Missed my train, missed my bus, and then discovered that even though I'd paid for my public transport card online, the credit hadn't actually gone through so I couldn't even get through the gates to catch a train.
So I missed another train trying to sort that out with the lady at the public transport office. And then... To top it all off I spent the entire trip embroiled in an argument with someone I care about very much. An argument that should never have happened, should never have been allowed to happen, and actually had absolutely nothing to do with me or my feelings. We didn't even get around to how I feel about that person and the situation I'm in with them. It was about someone else completely. Which I honestly don't mind, I find it easier to play middleman for someone else than I do to need someone to play middleman for me.
Just thinking back on it now that's probably one of the greatest reasons I'm so screwed up recently. And its still not resolved. Sigh.
Anyway, Friday: started off with me missing the bus completely. I thought I'd be nice so I fed the cats and I put the bins out, so that my hubby didn't have to get out of bed. Thought I'd let him sleep in, except in adding that one extra task to my day, I managed to miss my transport. So I had to wake him up anyway and get him to drive me to the train station. Only to find out that my credit still hadn't gone through and that I needed to have another go at customer service to get it bloody working again.
On the upside they knew their online system had issues (meaning I won't ever be using it ever again now) so he credited me 2 free trips and let me walk out the door without swiping my ticket. The highlight of my week.
And as usual my mind just wouldn't shut off. Wouldn't stop thinking. It never does really. My job takes very little brain power for me to do. There is no thinking aspect to it. No problem solving section involved. So my brain, as it often does, started thinking about other things. Primarily my money-related issues. And I realised that I'd done something so very stupid in my budgeting on Wednesday I'd paid my bill manually... And forgotten to cancel the auto-payment. DX
I have it set up to pay every Thursday like clockwork, enough to cover my bills. I'd cancelled the 2 that I knew were up-to-date, but not the third that I'd paid manually. So there went my carefully planned budget out the window. Most of our food budget, gone. So I spent 20 mins or so on the phone getting a refund so that we could use it to buy groceries. A refund I haven't yet seen. Sigh.
By the time I finally got home I had a migraine that wouldn't die, and I had to go shopping with what little funds we had left over. The lights and the noise of the supermarket mall didn't help me one iota. Just made everything 100x worse. By that point I just wanted to shut down and give up on everything.
The only thing that kept me going was the thought of having my friends over Saturday for a few drinks and games, to just hang out and relax. It was going to be a great night and would be the end of my mental issues. Or so I thought....
Saturday: I got up early, I had breakfast, I took my meds. And I cleaned. The lounge was spotless, my rattie had a clean cage, I vacuumed the floor, I tidied up the laundry and most of the kitchen. I moved the ratty into the bedroom out of the way, and I moved the TV into the lounge-room My plan WAS to sit inside in the warmth, to play some sing-star, or guitar hero, or to just chat. None of that happened.
For a start I couldn't find the cable for my PS2, and that irked me unbelievably It wasn't with the console, it wasn't in the box, and it wasn't in the cord bag. That one thing annoyed me so much. -all- I wanted to do was hang out and play games in the warmth. And I couldn't. Because I stupidly lost one cable that I needed. I have replacement power cables. But I don't have any spare AV-PS cables, and I couldn't find mine.
I suppose it didn't matter so much, but my brain wouldn't let it go. Still won't actually. I couldn't drink to get drunk, I couldn't provide a BBQ I couldn't provide a fire to sit around outside. All I wanted was to have my friends inside in the warmth just hanging out. I latched on to that and wouldn't let it go. And in doing so I feel like I spoiled the night. For myself and for them.
They sat outside socialising, talking amongst themselves about the day they'd spent together doing things, and while I -tried- to be involved I felt utterly left out. Completely. Not even an iota involved. They'd spent the day together doing things, and I had not been there with them. They had anecdotes to tell, and while I loved to hear about them, I was not -part- of them.
I never was. And I never will be.
And I realise that now. And it hurts.
I have tried. Believe me I have tried my hardest.
But no matter what I do, I am not part of the group. I am always last to be invited, often to the point where I miss out because I have made other plans. And even when I know in advance there is so much that happens between then and the last time I did manage to catch up with everyone, that again I feel so completely left out. Like I don't belong.
That's how I feel. That's how I've felt all week. That's why I've been so depressed. Because I feel like I am being left out of everything, and that I don't have a true friend left in this world.
Not a single one.
I don't have a best friend. I never really did. I haven't in a very long time. Every single one of my friends has come into my life, and then left me all over again.
My best friends when I was young moved away. We were little, doesn't mean they weren't/aren't still special to me. But it happens.
My high school friends split up when we all left school. We tried, for a good couple of years, but things got between us and we moved on. It happens.
My best friend as a teenager, whom I've known half my life now, is pretty much a complete stranger to me now. For a while there relationships got in the way. It happens.
My best friend after that I don't talk to any-more Though I really miss the days we used to bum about and talk music like it was our lifeblood. I miss him too. But it happens.
My best friend/cousin I used to live with is in a different state now. He has a chance at a better life, so while I don't begrudge him his life, I miss what we used to have sometimes.
The best friend we both used to have who stayed at our place on the weekend is now better friends with other people than he is with me.
I probably wasn't even the greatest friend to begin with I suppose. But I tried. I've always been different. I've always been weird. I've always been difficult to understand, and even more so to live with. But I tried.
And I just seem to be failing. No matter what I do, I try... And I feel left out. I feel lost and confused and scared. I feel lonely. Even in a crowd. Even around the people I trust the most. The ones I'm -supposed- to call friends.
I'm the last to know. I'm the last one invited. I'm the last to be thought of. I find out after the event, if I'm lucky. And I'm ashamed to say it but because of it I've been pulling away. I'm angry about it. It's not that they don't reach out to me, it's that I don't fit in enough to be included. I -always- feel like I'm intruding where I'm not wanted. No matter what they tell me, that's how I feel.
And logically I know it's not true. They do try. They get together every weekend, I know they do, I'm sure I could probably gatecrash and they'd be happy to have me. But I don't personally feel like I could. I feel like.... I feel like an outsider. More now than I ever have before in my entire life. Like I'm a completely alien entity, I don't know how to fit in with their customs because they have changed and evolved into people completely different to what I once knew, and I'm left here to flounder on my own and try to figure out where it all went wrong.
Where -I- went wrong.
-How- I'm wrong. Because I know I am. Saturday proved that to me. I'm wrong. Completely wrong. So wrong I don't have a place to fit into any-more I just don't know where or when that happened. Or how to undo what I've done.
I don't even know if it's possible to fix. I want to try but I don't even know where to start. All I wanted to do Saturday was make a start in fixing that. To try and close that gap between me and them..... And instead I made it worse. And for that I'm sorry. I hope they will be able to forgive me one day. But more than likely I've fucked it up for good.
I'm broken.
I know I'm broken. Even though everyone tells me I'm not, I know inside I really am. I am broken, and I don't know how to fix myself. I don't even know if it's possible. I spend so much time helping other people to fix themselves, while inside I just silently break myself apart even more. I'm pretty sure I can't fix myself either, but I don't know how to ask for help. I've never been good at reaching out to others, never been able to explain how I feel inside coherently especially face-to-face.
Nor have I ever been any good at accepting help even when I so desperately need it. I hate being a burden to anyone. I hate having to saddle them with my problems and issues.
(Uh, apparently that's the character limit of my email. I wasn't even aware that there WAS one. O.o;; )
Nor have I ever been any good at accepting help even when I so desperately need it. I hate being a burden to anyone. I hate having to saddle them with my problems and issues. I most especially hate not being able to do it on my own because of those reasons. To hurt someone else with MY problems? Especially when its my own creation, my own doing? How am I suppose to ask someone to help me fix and/or undo what I've done to myself? To knowingly and willingly drag them in when they have problems of their own. Things much more important to them than lil ol' me.
And I know that those things ARE much more important than I am. My issues, the ones of my own doing, the ones I can't fix.... Are not ones that anyone else should be taking on. My friends don't need my emo spats to ruin their days, or their lives. And I feel like that's precisely what I did Saturday I know they had a long day, I know it was important to them, particularly to one of them. I know that they didn't -have- to come over at all. But they did. They came over despite how tired they were. Because of, and FOR, me.
And because I had a shitty week, and things didn't go as -I- wanted them too, I cracked it. I broke another part of myself in anger. And now there's just another piece of me that I'm going to hate forever. That my HSC will never let me heal, even IF they do forgive me for it.
I'm just starting to feel like I'll never get it sorted. That I'll never sort myself out. That I will never find a way to be completely whole. To be... how I should be. How I'm supposed to be. How I want to be. I feel like I'm working backwards. This is just like primary school all over again. One day we're best friends having sleep overs, than the next we're at the playground and their running all over the slides while I'm stuck on the swings going back and forth no matter how much I impossibly try to make it go -just- forwards so I can join them.
(And yes, the irony of my analogy is that I -should- just hop off the damn swing and walk over to join them on the slides, but shushy - just like back them my HSC issues say that I'm not good/worthy/wanted enough to just get up the courage and walk over there. My brain simply will not let me do something that forward, no matter how welcome or wanted it may be. Unless I am certain I can join the other kids I won't be able to get over the self-critical issues I have and do something so bold as that, no matter how logical an option it might be.)
Its the same reason that I barely socialise with anyone here at work. I feel like I am beneath these people: those who have husbands, children, families, careers, friends, lives.... They are "better" than me, thus I must only speak when spoken to, must only talk about things when they're asked about, and at all other times just keep my head down and do my work so I don't upset anyone or cause any trouble. They don't really care about how my weekend was, or how me/my fiancé are doing, or what I've been up to lately. They only ask because its polite, but like everyone else they don't actually want the 'burden' of knowing. Like my friends, if I open up to them and tell them how I'm -really- doing, they'd feel obliged to help in someone. And to me that's the equivalent of asking for help and saddling them with the burden of doing exactly that.
So who does that leave me to turn too?
