Filling Time

Sometimes things will really hit me. Like tonight, maybe it's the super-red-moon or the fact that there's someone outside my window looking at the moon and I kinda wanted to go out and look at it too, but I saw myself in the mirror and I look like an insane homeless person right now. So I can't go outside.

Then I think: this is why I'm not married, it's because I'm fat and ugly and I never really mastered the use of clothing and makeup. Then I feel angry-sad and frustrated and I think of the people in my life who have what I want and how picking out bridesmaids dresses with my sister is super frustrating and awkward because I'm so hideous. Then I think about other frustrating things like my job and how this one coworker is always interrupting me and talking over me to tell me how 'precious' and 'adorable' it is that I have a backbone over some issue or another, and then I start to see red. I get the tunnel vision and I tense up and wander angrily around my apartment, looking for things to eat.

My body image issues have been pushed up-front with the bridesmaid dress thing. Trying on dresses with my sister's other, thinner bridesmaids made me feel very on-display. Plus, my sister dancing around my size issue is like an old white man trying to pander to a minority crowd. She will never really get it and she makes these terrible, cringe-worthy comments. I had to come up and tell the sales-lady that the corset they gave me was two sizes too small, and I made a joke about it that I thought was fairly funny - the saleslady chuckled. But, I look over at my sister and she makes that 'tsss - oh' face and I think: what the hell?

Sometimes I hate my family. I know I can be rude sometimes, but I don't treat them the way they treat me. My rudeness is just repressed rage that comes out in little bursts so I don't literally explode.

So I decided I needed a break from family for a little while. Except, my sister keeps texting me about wedding stuff and I keep thinking about it because I'm not good at letting things go.

AND work has become 100% more stressful. Having staff is the worst. I'm getting frustrated with a few people who are not treating me with respect and taking me seriously.

My work environment is very informal, so some of rage-y Jane is starting to show herself. I'm getting a little too comfortable and a little too stressed, I think. I'm a quiet person and I don't have a lot to say most of the time but when I do want to talk, I expect people to listen. Because it's my turn, I listened to them and they should listen to me; that's what's fair. But certain people at work like to interrupt me or talk over me and not let me speak. And that is one of my biggest pet peeves ever. So... last week I just kept talking, and cut them off when they cut me off and did what I had to do to say my piece. But it did not feel good at all. I felt angry and disrespected and dirty. Polite conversation is my thing, I don't like what I have to do to talk them. I mean, it's not like I yelled or anything but it would be nice to find a different solution to this.

Anyway, I'm not sure if this post really has any cohesive point. Maybe just that I would like to begin separating my personal and professional lives a little more, now that I'm beginning to have distinct differences there. And, focus on work during work time only, so that I can try to cut down on some of this extra thinking about work that is not productive and just angers me. If I can make my personal time more fulfilling then I'll be more refreshed to deal with work stress.

I went on two dates with a guy, but that didn't go anywhere and wasn't very eventful. I've been going to play board games at this couple's house who I met though meetup.com. I was going to a game night at a church but recently have just been gaming with this smaller group at their house. It's been pretty fun. Kinda stressful at times, because I'm not used to having friends and socializing in a non-work setting. Especially awkward was when they were talking politics, partly because they all seem to be republicans and I'm a democrat. But, they seem to like me so far so I'm trying to keep that going.

I met up with an old friend from high school who I had a falling-out with in college. We caught up and I'll probably meet with her again. (The falling-out was partly over religion. Hooray, religion and politics - worst topics to discuss with people, ever)

I started counting my steps when I work on Saturdays since I do a TON of walking, and I'll count it as an exercise day as long as I reach 10,000 steps. I did 23,000 last Saturday and at least 15,000 yesterday (I forgot to check again at the end).

So, I guess that's it. Miscellaneous update about stuff.

Jane                

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My TV addiction

Let's talk about how boring writing is and how much I've needed noise in my life since college.

So, lately my obsession has been watching vlogbrothers videos on youtube. John Green is a novelist who writes YA books like Paper Towns, which I just read on vacation. I discovered John's videos before reading his books and I think the main reason for my obsession is just that he is very mature while also being very silly. He is smart but humble and the one picture that caused me to look him up from the start was this;

 

As a person who has been struggling with questions of the dating realm for a few years now (and probably should have struggled a bit more with those questions earlier in life) this really struck home for me. Suddenly I thought, well... this guy exists and has this awesome opinion so maybe men aren't all bad. I know, I don't ever want to come across as the 'Feminazi' but if you read my previous blog posts you have to admit I've had it pretty rough lately and I've only written about a fraction of it, you guys.

Hopefully he's not a unicorn.

Dating sucks ass, you guys, but I'm not really wanting to talk about that right now.

The point is that John Green and his brother are awesome, smart, and compassionate, and they are just the sort of people that I am looking to try and surround myself with. AND it turns out they actually have a whole community of fans called nerdfighters that maybe I can get involved with. I haven't seen anything IRL as of yet, but I will be keeping an eye out.

ANYWAY, the thing I actually wanted to talk a bit about was how I was watching one of John Green's video's today and he was talking about how boring writing is and how reading is not really conducive to our multi-tasking, immediate-update culture. That made me think about how since college, I have needed noise in my life. I've just needed to have some kind of TV show running basically at all times because when I don't, I start to think too much and get into depressive thought cycles. College was one of the more difficult times of my life because of how depressed I was and how early on I was into my diagnosis and treatment. I have done so much work since then on my thought processes;

Meta-cognition; thinking about thinking, and then changing how you think, is incredibly difficult.

Anyway, when I was so sick with depression, TV was a fantastic balm. Books didn't work because my anxiety level was so high for a year I physically could not read any more. But I could lose myself in television. My boyfriend (this is the Jack from my earliest posts) thought it was pretty sick: a Fahrenheit 451 level of distasteful. But, when you have cancer, don't they shoot poison into your veins? Most people don't understand just how bad my illness got.

I'm not at that level of depression anymore but I still watch TV like it's my job. I feel a little uncomfortable without it being on. Maybe it was my methadone? But now I'm still addicted to it. And, it impairs my ability to be quiet and to do things that require quiet such as writing. I even do my yoga while watching a TV show (one that isn't yoga). When I was living with my parents I think I sought out quiet more because it was so loud there with my sister and my dad. And, of course, going to high school there was so much noise there.

Maybe I don't really like the quiet as much as I used to think I did and when I moved out on my own  I ended up being a lot more lonely than I have cared to admit. And so, I just like to hear the people talking on the TV even if I'm not really paying attention to the show. Maybe if I balance my life out a little more and have more people in it then I will seek out the quiet again and write and read and play music and do yoga without needing TV.

I am working on my life balance and most of the time I feel so unsatisfied because I am 29 and things are not where I want them to be. But it has been good today to remember where I used to be. I'm glad I'm not there anymore and I have come a long way, I have made progress. But, I probably will continue to watch John Green videos while I finish my laundry because he inspires me. He inspired me to write today. Thanks, John.

Jane               

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THE UPDATE

     A lot has happened in my life over the past 6-8 months. I got fired from my crappy job for really crappy reasons, spent maybe one working day unemployed and then started a new job in home health care. After about four months of that, I was promoted to supervisor and even though I'm still down about $10,000 a year from what I was making at my last job I have to say it's completely

WORTH IT

     Is my food budget $25 a week? Yes. Do I now consider buying clothes at Goodwill a splurge? Yes. My life is completely turning around and it's all because I got pushed into a situation that looked incredibly terrifying and could have resulted in the more terrifying situation of moving back in with the parents (I would have needed more medication but I still don't know if they would ever condone treating my mental illness to the point of helping me get meds for it; and who knows if they would have let me keep my cats - thank God this didn't happen).  But then my supervisor thought that maybe I could do more for the company and a position opened up at just the right time as I was letting her know that I was available to work more hours so she put me up for an interview.


    I have also stopped dating. There are many reasons I can say that I am doing this but at the end of the day it is because I am tired of men trying to push me into things I'm not ready to do, sometimes literally and physically. Maybe I choose the wrong guys - even though when I am choosing them many times I barely know them, having just met them through a site or maybe 5 minutes of speed dating or something - or maybe there are just a lot of assholes out there. Either way, while I'm healing and growing and exploring my own psychology, I just want to stay safe and the best way I know how to do that is to stay single and 'off the market.'


    I am doing better psychologically. Working in home health care has been great for me. My hygiene has improved, I even clean my apartment more. I've been taking my meds really regularly, maybe something about telling other people to do it makes me feel I need to be really responsible about it. Taking care of people is really therapeutic and has made me feel really connected to people. I usually feel like such an outsider, but my social anxiety is really lessening. Well, besides it being a very busy office where I have to make phone calls RIGHT NOW and I have no time to ruminate about things (well, less time), knowing that people's health and well being, and sometimes their lives, are in my hands has made me step up and somehow past my own insecurities. When it's about me, it's not as easy to give a shit. But I've started to become a bit of a mother hen to a collection of very random people, some of whom I may see only a couple times and then never again and it's VERY COOL.


note: sorry about the grammar, my computer is very slow right now and it's seriously throwing me off.

   Jane                

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Angry at the Parents

I'm feeling very disappointed and just hopeless that I'll have a good relationship with my parents. I found out this weekend that, although my dad had found out through the insurance company that I was diagnosed with depression when in college, he never told my mom. And then I told her, and her response was pretty underwhelming. I expected she might be angry at my dad, I thought she might want to talk to me about it maybe even apologize for not being there for me.

But there was none of that. She just carried on like I had said nothing. She even had a great opportunity to talk to me alone about it, and she didn't say a word. 

Then I had an argument with my dad. We are switching cars and I signed over my title to him and now he's saying we need to switch license plates. He's a terrible communicator and I just can't believe he really understood the person at the BMV because how can you take a plate off of one car and put it on another? So I said that I don't think that's what the woman meant and he started to get angry and said, 'well, i don't want to buy new plates!'  

And it went downhill from there. First I've heard that we'd have to get new plates, and if he was so against it, why did he insist we sign the titles now in the first place? This was just something i'd been doing to humor him, because he wouldn't leave me alone about it, I don't have any idea why he wants me to have the title to this car, they're both his cars and even when I've had the title to one of his cars, he treats me like he still owns the thing so I really don't give a shit. I'm saving up to buy my own so I can be free of his insanity.

So I left pretty angry and my mom was like, 'let's make a plan to go walking next week,' and I didn't make any commitments because spending time with them any time soon is the LAST thing I want. I am at the point where even thinking about them stresses me out enough that I'll want to abandon all healthy plans and go home, curl up in bed with some chocolate. If they call or text me, I'm mad for days. Who knows how long it's going to take to recover after these interactions.

I just want to forget these people exist for a while.

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Proposal Season

My sister is getting married; she just told me tonight.

I'm glad I'm not there and that she told me over the phone because I don't think I could muster up being happy for her right now. I'm sure I'll be happy soon, once I get over myself but right now I'm just feeling all kinds of dark, awful things.

It just makes me feel more acutely all the things I don't have right now. Career? Gone. Love? No boyfriends, not even platonic friends.

She said he proposed to her at this spot they go to every year, even though they've had a long-distance relationship they've managed to meet there. It's very romantic. I wish I had a spot I went to with someone repeatedly. There is no spot, there is no one.

I can't even seem to put my life together, every time I try it falls further apart. I'm just grasping at threads that used to be seams, bits of fuzz that used to be fabric.

When will I be anything else? Will I grow old and die as the fat spinster aunt that everyone is just a little bit worried about and a little bit wary of?

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That Serial Killer I Dated, Part I (TW-assault)

                 It was our third date if you count the speed-dating event where we met. He was a doctor of physical therapy with a nice condo in the city and he had asked me over to cook dinner for me. His place was clean and very bachelor-y with the only décor being his framed degree hung up on the wall next to a bookcase full of binders of school notes and anatomy and physiology books. His furniture was all brown or black pieces; not fashionable or modern, but it was clean and tidy. Big TV, naturally. When I got there he was still cooking the meal, fiddling with the stuff on the stove and vegetables in the microwave. He poured a couple glasses of wine while we waited and it was nice, really. I had some reservations about him because of our last date but I was being put at ease. 

                On our second date, we went to a museum and it was really awkward trying to hold a conversation with him there. He was soft-spoken and would walk behind me or away from me in the middle of a conversation so that I couldn’t hear him anymore and I would have to follow him around or twist myself around to keep talking. That got old as soon as it started. Besides that, he was literally pushy. I think he was trying to joke around and he just randomly shoved me while I was on the steps at the museum. Looking back now I know to think: WTF??!! But at the time I was just annoyed and took it like I always take things like that: pissed off inside but not really clicking that it’s wrong for someone to do that to me. I pushed the feelings down, said nothing and kept walking. He pushed me a few times. I thought about taking the elevator to be sure that I wouldn’t fall down the stairs in the parking garage.

                Back to our third date; dinner was nice. We had a much livelier conversation than on the previous date and the food was pretty good. The steak was a little too overdone but he had still cooked for me and that’s bound to win you 3,000 points unless it’s absolutely inedible. I was enjoying myself but then somehow we got on the topic of Disney fairy tales versus the original stories. I say something about how sleeping beauty was not kissed but actually raped awake (remember we are having a good conversation and I am feeling at ease at this point). Then he comes back with, “Yeah, but he married her afterward,” with an absolutely serious face.

                “What?”

                “He raped her but he married her afterwards.”

                “That doesn’t make it not rape. That doesn’t make it any better.”

                He didn’t answer me, just took a drink of wine. 

    “I need to know that you know rape isn’t cancelled out by marriage.”

    “No, of course it’s not.”

                After dinner he offered me more wine and even though I said no, he went on to pour me a very large glass, finishing off the bottle. After our exchange, I was set on not drinking it to make sure I was sober enough to leave. I was looking for a polite way out when he suggested we watch a movie. 

                “Ok, maybe I can stay for half a movie.”

                He put on an old, obscure movie that I had never seen before but one that he insisted was a ‘classic’ and I ‘had to see it.’ He sat down on one side of the sectional sofa and I placed myself on the far side of the L shape, away from him. 

                “You haven’t been drinking your wine.”

                “I told you I didn’t want any more. It keeps me up at night.”

                “Come sit over here.” I didn’t really want to, but he insisted so I sat down next to him. He inched a bit closer. After a while, he put his arm around my shoulders. I was still a bit tense and the movie was from the 90’s and boring. I watched the clock and wondered when would be a good time to make my exit. Then, without any kind of warning, he scooted himself down and laid his head in my lap.

                I was in shock. 

               “Will you pat my hair?”

               “What?”

               “I want you to pat my hair,” he picked up my hand and laid it on his head, moving it up and down in patting motions.

               “No, that’s ok.” I took my hand away. He grabbed it back and put it on his head. I tried to take back my hand but he held it firmly on his head. I tried to stand up, but he used his head on my lap to apply pressure and keep me sitting down. My heart was beating at a thousand times a second, I had no idea what to do. I stayed still.

                He made me stroke his hair again for a little while and then he sat up straight again. He was talking to me but I have no idea what he said. I was panicking. But I stayed still.

                He put his hand on my head and pushed me down into his lap. I think I actually felt a piece of my mind snapping. He held me down there with his arm and wouldn’t let me up. I think he continued to talk. I struggled but he was too strong. So I stopped and waited.

                He let me up and I stood/rolled off the couch and onto my feet, sliding my coat from the chair onto my back like I’d practiced it a million times and grabbed my purse. 

               “I have to get up early in the morning so I’d better go.”

              “Why do you have to go all of a sudden? We haven’t finished the movie,” he reminded me of a snake, poised and dangerous.

               “I really have to go.” I walked calmly towards his door, “Maybe we can finish it next time.”

               He got up and walked to the door as well, joining me in the doorway. I wondered if I screamed, if any of the neighbors would notice. I remembered my mother always told me to shout ‘fire!’ because that’s what gets people’s attention.

               I said, “Have a good night,” and I gave him a short hug. I walked away briskly to my car. I have never driven away from a place so fast in my life.

Do I Care Who Knows My Secrets?

I was reading this article this morning - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/09/18/bipolar-disorder-ellen-forney_n_5823138.html, and it triggered some thoughts for me.

First, how many people have I told about my mental illness and what percentage of negative versus positive reactions have I gotten from them (not including medical professionals)? 

Let’s explore;

SC – mixed, tried to help but didn’t really understand. When her help didn’t ‘work,’ she gave up.

AA – apathy

Support group online – positive, helpful

AM – positive, empathetic

JC – mixed, tried to help but didn’t understand, often very disrespectful. Same thing as SC, when his help didn’t ‘work,’ he would get very frustrated.

Father – somewhat empathetic but told me I would have to ‘go it alone,’ because therapists are not to be trusted and they just want your money. He hasn’t said a word to me about it since then.

Sister – empathetic, helpful. I’m not sure she understands totally, but I only just told her this summer.

Bitchy mcTraitor – freaked out, tried to get me fired

GS – empathetic and understanding when I told her but when I tried to talk to her about my feelings and things that happened that relate to my disorder, I couldn't get empathy at all from her. She was very good at giving emotionless advice…

So; three purely positive responses, four mixed and two purely negative.

I’m counting apathy as a negative, especially since he and I were supposedly ‘in love’ and he never tried to help with my illness or mentioned it at all even though I was clearly suffering.

TRIGGER WARNING

Also, when I asked him if I should commit suicide, he told me he couldn’t think of a reason why not. So; definitely negative.

END TRIGGER

I’ve always kept the information that I have a mental illness very close, and obviously have only told a very few people. I always suspected something was wrong, but I didn’t get help until college when I went to my school counseling center. I didn’t even tell my father, he actually found out because he was trying to buy insurance for me and the insurance companies came back and said they wouldn’t cover me because of my depression (my dx at the time, also this was before the ACA made it illegal to deny coverage based on pre-existing conditions). So he called me up to his office area in the master bedroom when I was visiting and asked me if it were true, did I have depression?

                There wasn’t anything else for me to say at that point but yes. And we talked a bit about it, it was good, I think, to have finally let him know about it because up to that point I had been seeing a therapist and psychiatrist in secret. I was so afraid of my father finding out about it that I lied about being on his insurance plan and told my school counseling center that I didn’t have insurance. That actually worked out great for a while since they had a sliding scale for appointments, I was only paying $40 for psychiatry appointments and $2 per therapy appointment. I had a part-time job so I could pay for it all myself. I think I was afraid if my dad found out he would demand I live at home again because he would think I wasn’t able to deal with living at school. I spent my two years of college living at home but it was actually my therapist who suggested that I get the hell out of there and live on campus. It made a huge difference for me to not be around my father all the time.

                It’s not that he was abusive or anything. I’m not even sure I can explain it and have anyone understand. He was just angry all the time and I’m a very sensitive person. You know when you’re with a group of people and then one person just gets really angry about something and starts ranting about it, and then everyone gets really quiet and is afraid to speak up or say anything because if they do they know they’ll get shot down by that person and/or have that person’s anger suddenly directed at them? Like, everyone feels so awkward and afraid that they barely want to move or make a sound? 

                That is what growing up with my father was like. Pretty much every night at dinner would be like that. And he would be angry at everything and everyone. Oh, you have a tattoo? You just sealed your fate as a worthless bum because no one decent will ever employ you. The same goes for men with long hair, people who own motorcycles, and music majors.

                I had also overheard a rant my father was having about me. He seemed to think that the college I had decided to go to would turn me into a burden to the family, because I would never get a job with a degree from there. A burden to the family.

                So; I never told my father about my mental illness and I still haven’t told him about my new diagnosis. If he hadn’t found out about my depression he wouldn’t know now. I still count it as mixed because he didn’t make me live at home, and he didn’t flip out and the world didn’t explode or anything. But, not necessarily positive either. You don’t tell an almost completely isolated, lonely depressed person that they’ll have to deal with it alone. That’s simply irresponsible and ignorant. I needed help, I was desperate for it and I got it, behind his back because I believed I had to. His response confirmed that I was right to do that. 

As he has gotten older, his anger has mellowed out a bit. Also, I’ve gotten stronger and have been able to call him on his bullshit. So, maybe one day I will tell him. I seem to be moving more in that direction by telling my sister – who supports me in waiting to tell my parents until I am ready. I’m also pretty tired of hiding. I have no patience for lying and hiding anymore. 

Especially since he seems more concerned sometimes with pestering me about making sure I have maternity coverage on my insurance (which I now buy myself), than ever even asking me how my mental health is. God forbid he should make sure I have mental health coverage or a proper psychiatrist/psychologist. How it is more pressing in his brain to make sure he will not have to pay for all my illegitimate children from all the wild sex I am supposedly having than to make sure I am being treated for an illness that I will have my entire life and is often fatal, is simply beyond my understanding. Simply…. fucking…. beyond me. So; it’s not easy to not go off on him. But that's not the way I want this conversation to come up.

Anyway, this has gotten off track. The point is I want people to know and I want them to be ok with it and not freak out and complain to management or stop talking to me or talk to me but tell me shitty, ignorant things. But, since I can’t have that ideal situation most of the time I have to keep things under wraps.

-Jane

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