I had a terrible dream. I was desperately begging someone not to do something and they kept doing it. I’ve never felt that desperate before. I was crying and begging and watching him ignore me. I felt powerless and hopeless simultaneously. It was the worst.
But then I woke up like: Oh, thank god, that was just a dream.
But no. The reality is so much worse. I woke my boyfriend up to comfort me because I was completely losing it.
To realize that your real life is worse than your worst nightmare??? Fuck me.
Day 106 – Waking Nightmare
11th of September. Grief is universal. I don’t want anyone to feel what I feel (EVER) but I know for sure that some do. They probably feel the same gnawing fear that (more) people they love will get hurt or sick. They probably experience the same worried turning in their stomachs and frequent heart palpitations that come from nowhere. They probably suffer from insomnia. They probably feel like the world is closing in around them, like an elephant is sitting on their chest, like they will drown in bittersweet memories. Or, more accurately, crushingnostalgicsadlove memories. (That’s not a word, apparently. Microsoft wants me to change it to something else.)
That felt oddly dramatic. Pain is dramatic, but I try to make jokes usually to cover it up. Here’s a fact, not a joke: another woman started working at the same time as me, doing the same job. I went into her office today to figure out what she was doing (because I didn’t want to be wasting time but had no idea what to do) and she was doing a combination of looking for a new apartment and Gchatting her old coworkers about how she wasn’t doing anything. So. I’m not the worst employee?!
I sat back at my desk and with no work distractions, the memories came back. I swiveled in my chair to the memories of Thanksgiving meals with family in Oklahoma and being chased by our puppy when we first got him and how supportive he was when we were playing tennis or doing anything, really.
For once in my life, I was INCREDIBLY thankful when a meeting came up.
Day 93 – Thanks for the memories (I’m crying again)
I love organization, planning, and being a day behind in posting my blog. Not sure why. Just seems to be what keeps happening. Maybe this time it was because I am in the heart of the stress and grief, maybe it was because I got distracted watching TV and drinking chai tea, or maybe it was because when I’m in a disorganized, chaotic situation, I can’t think straight and I just end up shutting down like a robot with an “off” switch. Do they still have “off” switches? Do they still call them robots, or have we moved on to the more popular term AI?
Am I 100 years old?
Does anyone else feel that constant worried feeling in their stomach, followed by headaches, stomach aches, heart pounding, and insomnia? NO? Cool, me neither. I think sometimes that I’m very lucky I found someone who loves me despite this. I also think sometimes that I should probably go live by myself (and my dog, obviously) on an island somewhere and not interact with other humans.
Day 88 – Late as usual
Yes, I have life-invading anxiety. And no, I cannot always tell the difference between real anxiety (like, intuitive anxiety) and general anxiety (like, fuck you and your sense of well-being anxiety).
But I had a TON of anxiety this weekend. Some of it felt specific. All of it felt terrible. I swear, y’all, my stomach has been in knots all last week and this weekend.
I have decided it has to do with someone in particular. But I don’t know WHY. He hasn’t done anything to warrant it. Have we not been connecting as well? Am I just struggling because that’s life? Am I inventing things to worry about because life isn’t stressful enough? I DON’T KNOW!
Day 70 – Anxiety, That Fucker
Update: We talked and it felt normal. This didn’t 100% erase the anxiety, but it really helped a lot. Like 95% erased. I swear, there is a reason anti-anxiety meds were invented. I should probably take those…
So if people I consider to be friends completely ignore me, should I assume I did something or assume the problem lies with them? This is one of the Great Struggles of my life – aside from living itself – that brings my anxiety to a boiling point and then causes me to do weird things like SIMULTANEOUSLY call and text and Facebook message them (I just did this as I typed this sentence) and then get rejected on three fronts all at once which then causes me to IMPLODE DUE TO ANXIETY.
So now my dog lives alone. Please come rescue her.
I highly value my friendships. They have saved me time and time again. I’m sure I pulled the 16-year-old-idiot move where I ignored my friends in favor of the gentleman caller of the day way back when, but learned my lesson quickly and figured out that friends are the ones who stick around. They have literally pulled me away from the edge of a cliff (thanks, Natalie); they have comforted me when I cried or ranted or complained or grieved (thank you, Emily, Eric, Kathleen, Jessica, Harrison, Allie, and myriad others); they have given their time, their advice, their hugs, their love to me when I probably deserved it least. But I appreciate every single one of those moments, every single one of those people. They have laughed at my jokes, and even though I’m clearly hilarious, they do laugh louder and longer than anyone else. They’re supportive and kind and have my back. I picked my friends very carefully. Because I am loyal forever. That’s why, when I get ghosted by a friend or they don’t respond/answer for a few days, I have an ABSOLUTE BREAKDOWN AND LOSE ALL SENSE OF NORMALCY. I contact mutual friends for information. I call them relentlessly like a psycho ex. I alternate between thinking it’s all fine and I didn’t do anything to full-on hating myself for most likely having done something terrible to this person who isn’t talking to me.
There are currently TWO of these friends in my life. WHAT DID I DO? I can’t know unless they tell me and they won’t talk to me so I don’t know so I try to talk to them and then they don’t answer and around and around we go. Honestly, having anxiety and insomnia and depression is like the triple threat of mental instability and daily dysfunction, but that aside, WHAT DO OTHER PEOPLE DO? Do they just… not care? Do they care but it doesn’t bog their mind? Do other people NOT EVEN NOTICE?
Oh god, there goes any chance I had at sleep tonight.
Day 60 – Ghosted By Friends and Anxiety-Ridden
Oh my lord. I just saw “Eighth Grade” and I swear I’ve never had so many feels. All the feels. The actress and storyline are so essentially relatable and loveable and cringy and cute. I laughed, I cried, I remembered all the times kids were mean to me…
Growing up is never easy. Life isn’t fair. Someone said those things to me on repeat as a kid, usually my mom probably, but nothing reminds you so obviously of that fact until you see a cinematic throwback to experiences that mirrored your own to make you sit up and hate/love the person in front of you as you beg her not to make a bad decision.
I don’t think we ever stop growing up. When I look back on me and my decisions a year ago, a week ago, yesterday, I immediately cringe and try to find a hole to go crawl into. I stay up and night and wonder WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD DID I SAY THAT? THAT’S SO EMBARRASSING. And then I think of something I DID that was actually worse than what I said and all I can think is, AND THAT, TOO? CAN YOU JUST BE NORMAL FOR ONCE?
No, no I cannot be. I must be weird, it’s my only option, it seems. I must draw awkward and embarrassing attention to myself. I must relive those moments when I’m trying to sleep and get jolted awake again from the horrible memories. I must push people away with my awkwardness and then wonder why I don’t have any friends. Some people have to keep up their perfect Instagram stories. This is just my cross to bear…
Day 54 – Eighth Grade and Growing Up
Late at night, when I’m lying in bed, I like to replay all the mistakes I’ve ever made in my entire life on loop, and feel embarrassed about them all over again. Do you ever do that? I still cringe about something I did when I was 4, and then more things when I was a teenager, and still more things that I do every single day.
It’s like this endless cycle of things I wish I’d said as an angry retort at some point during the day – like when that lady cut me in line at the store I wanted to say “Fuck off, you entitled piece of shit. You are not better than me, so stand in line like I’ve been doing before I make you,” or someone in a skirt yelled out to me that I look like a man, I wish I’d said, “I still look better as a man in a skirt than you do as a woman in one”…Or something much better and wittier – so a series of things I wish I’d said to idiots throughout the day, and then a reminder of one very embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, followed by a flashback of one VERY embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, pursued closely by one VERY EMBARRASSING thing I did fairly recently until I’ve convinced myself that all I do is embarrassing things and I’m never leaving my bed or my house again. And once that thought is complete, I remember the LADY at the STORE…
I cringe at myself for the things I’ve written before, the angsty teenager that I was, the dumb things I’ve said or done over the years (usually with the best of intentions) until all I can do is hope that everyone else hates themselves as much as I do or that there’s a magical pill out there in the world that can stop this loop but not actually kill me. Are there people out there who live without anxiety? Who don’t hate themselves and everything they’ve ever said or done? Come at me, bro.
That is not me. I am cringing about 10 different things as I write this. I’m very capable of cringe-typing multitasking.
Day 38 – Embarrassment runs amok.