Many things [depression and jobs and family and just fuck it]

Discussion in 'Brainbent' started by Raire, Jun 18, 2015.

  1. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Posted the following on tumblr. I think I'm going to sleep.

    I feel sad and lonely. I'm going to turn 2- tomorrow and I felt too unlinked to message my friend here in this city to organize something to celebrate because I felt it would be sad to only have him since I feel like nobody else would care about my birthday to even have a birthday dinner with me. And so I lied to mom that he was busy so he can't do anything for my birthday. But now I'm looking at my third birthday with only my family and feeling pathetic and lonely. Why did I have so many friends in college and now here I am just terrible at socializing? We had nice meals and events for my birthdays in college. My best friend baked cupcakes and organized a bunch of friends to come sing me happy birthday in my room senior year and we had cupcakes and some cherry liqueur and they care for me. But now I'm this little sad thing that only managed to keep one Peruvian friend from high school and I am pathetic even when he invites me to do stuff so I don't want to bother him and make him feel like he is my only way of socializing.

    My friend G made a special lunch for my birthday junior year, it was tamarind pork ribs and they were so good. I miss Mimi and Aayushi and Julia and my whole Team and I really miss Matt and I miss Deirdre and Annabeth and Joe and so many friends. I'm sad and pathetic and can't even do nice things for myself.

    I feel sad and I lied to mom who was trying to help me have a good day.

    I miss my friends.

    I feel lonely.
     
  2. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    For those who don't follow my tumblr
    Doing better
    got reassured by parents
    Emotional spiral of dysthimia staved for now.
    Slightly looking forwards to birthday.
     
    • Like x 1
  3. Kaycashew

    Kaycashew guinea pig hearder

    It's hard to make friends outside of as school or work setting. Since I don't have a "proper"'job now I meet my friends through my special interest clubs. I met a lot of my local friends in pet Guinea pig meet ups or at concerts. Also, if you take a photography class or something you can meet people there.

    Also! Depression sucks, socializing is hard and it's okay to not be good at it, and there is nothing wrong with a birthday with family.

    Hugs from me!
     
  4. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Man I haven't written even tohugh things have happened. Too much to write right now wen I am emotinoally weird.
    WERID THING.
    There are now THREE TIMES when, while doing yoga, I started having LOTS OF EMOTIONS and not being able to control them. Apparently I am releasing all this pent up nastinesssss
    jajajajajaj idjflkdsnfa
    First time was crying for no reason that I can really tell? Probably? With the instructor there. Second time without the instructor, three weeks later.
    NOW I JUST/ WAS GETTING ANGRY. AT FIRST JUST ANNOYED BUT THEN ANGRY AND AFTER ANGER COMES CRYING AND EXHAUSTION, ALWAYS
    I AM ANGRY
    I AM WEIRD.
    I AM ANGRY THAT I AM ANGRY
    THIS IS STUPID JAJA.
     
  5. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Ok jaja that last post was weird but it was a weird situation!

    I also haven't really posted here for a while, partially because my mind was taken up and because there was so much going on that I didn't feel like typing it up. I've started seeing a new shrink for... a month minimum who does CBT, and I really, really like her. I feel like I get a lot more out of our appointments than I was from my previous shrink, and I look forwards to them. We meet weekly, every Monday, and we started with her getting to know me, what I want, what I feel and think, and her teaching me part of how the therapy works and how to get going. So far, we've been going through identifying the belief patterns that cause me the most distress and avoidance behaviours, because as much as I hate my dad being right about some things, I do a lot of avoidance, constantly, all the time. In the process of course I get distressed because I am avoiding something I feel I should do, so the thing gets even more emotional weight of must do, thus more dread, thus more fear, thus more avoidance...
    In summary, the "beliefs" we've identified that we'll be working on shifting are the "I must", which is a constant refrain in my mind and what I try to do. She said that I keep punishing with the "I must", because it becomes an obligation, and that I basically become my own "slave driver, cracking your whip at yourself all the time" instead of working with myself to accomplish what I want. She phrases it as replacing the "I must" with "I want", as in, "I want to succeed at x, so I want to do this action that will help me with that" instead of "I want to do a thing on which my worth is based, so I must do a thing".

    Roughly.

    She is emphasizing that I do mindfulness, that basically I try to observe when I am feeling and what thoughts dominate, talk them or record them rather then avoid them so that we can start seeing more "beliefs" that will need to shift so I can break the cycle of negative emotions from these beliefs that create distorted thinking. I really like this, even if I have trouble reaching and identifying the actual point causing me problem when I start distorting. She mentioned that sometimes I can try to look at situations by telling myself diminished pain from not doing a thing.. .if that makes sense. The example it came with was this: I wanted to, and felt like I should, talk to some people at an event. I wanted to make a good impression! But I felt I would make a fool of myself. And so I spent the breaks I could have talked feeling upset and stressed and didn't talk to anyone because I was going to fail.
    The distorted belief there, as she put it, was the "If I talk to this person, I know 100% I will fail and that will cause me pain" and that created fear in me, and so I avoided it. She went "This is not true. Is it true? Is it really true that if you talk to someone you will immediately make a fool of yourself? Is it even a high chance that it would happen, that you would seem not intelligent and vacuous?" and I had to admit that no, I probably had a low chance of that. So the "If I talk to a person, I will make a fool of myself" is more of, "If I talk to a person, I am likely to make a fool of myself", downgrading to "If I talk to a person, there is a possibility I will make a fool of myself", maybe even to "If I talk to a person, there is little chance that I will make a fool of myself".
    This is tied into perfection, of course, and to the repeating drumbeat of "the musts" that underlies my mind. I must get good grades. I must look good. I must be smart and intelligent. I don't give myself space to be imperfect! And this results in me punishing myself internally for this, and it isn't healthy.

    It is weird to look at this, this way. Like, I knew some of my problems and false beliefs, but I hadn't realized how deeply they run, how much they frame my life and viewpoint, how they shape my standards for myself. I need to dedicate more time - no wait, let me rephrase that. I want to dedicate more time to write down and dissect these thoughts, these beliefs, and the forms they take, so that I can notice them more easily, like a roster sheet of the gang taking over my head :P Her metaphors and analogies are funny.
     
  6. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Today's session was interesting. I started a bit out of it, tired and drifting, and we started talking about anger and my own... not letting me be angry or feel negative emotions, how I morally judge/value myself for having certain emotions in an unhealthy way, since emotions just are as she keeps reminding me, and it is important to learn to tolerate them so I don't spend time avoiding and avoiding and avoiding. And... it was complicated. I wasn't too sure we were getting anywhere. I have a hard time with anger, with rage, with me for feeling it and others, so I think I'll have to work on this a lot. I think I am going to work on this a lot, a lot, a lot. So this was something we tried to work on, that it is ok if I feel it. And I could see this logically, but also I wasn't really feeling her examples and that part of the conversation, so it felt a bit tired.

    I decided to try and bring up a subject I have a hard time accepting I have a problem with: Food. I don't like accepting I have a problem. I don't like even hinting at it, but the truth is that I am developing an unhealthy relationship with food. I don't even like putting that out there! I try to be realistic and positive and go all "we should not shame fatness, fat positivity! Half of the standards we set are unhealthy and half the people we shame aren't unhealthy, they're just fat! I will not let this society, the patriarchy, make me shame myself and others for being fat!" but I do have that instinct, I do have those thoughts and feelings and I do start judging myself and others and then feel angry at myself for doing that... another must have, "I MUST not buy into thinculture or whatever, I MUST be positive 100% and not somehow be brought down and affected by negative feelings for increased body mass/weight/fat" and again... I am trying to be perfect, I am expecting perfection and that is DUMB and unfair for me!

    I don't think I was ever really fat. I was very skinny as a kid, long! My mom and dad talk about how I was all legs and arms, skinny! Somehow, I still developed worries about fatness, because we always have to watch out for that, you can't be thin or yourself without dad going "you are so thin that is good! Don't become fat like me!" or mom constantly being dissapproving and going going "no don't eat that, that isn't good you will grow fat". Even if now, even trying to go "healthy" not for fat it just... becomes linked strongly. Even when we try to emphasize healthy, we are still really thinking "don't get fat" behind it. With that, food became associated with guilt even as it was associated with pleasure. And food is HUGE in my family. Meals are important. Taste is important. In a sense, it really is the center of the family!

    Both my parents are really good at cooking and good at making a balanced diet, and they taught my brother and I how to do that! I have guidelines, I know how to eat healthy and remain healthy and what goes into it! And food is also a great pleasure, a great gift. Dad loves cooking and good food. Mom likes it too, but she is also... not sure if obsessed, but constantly watching what she eats or doesn't, brings up "oh no I shouldn't have eaten that" or "well, those are a few extra kilos". And yet, as family, we think about recipes and talk about our favourite dishes or things to make. Big tasty meals and experiments get done in a team way, and I love how we can cook as a family, everyone doing different parts of the dish so we can get it done faster - someone chops onions while somebody else sautees the garlic and at the same time a third member is grating cheese... it just. It is an important social activity. It is going and making something together!

    And yet it is always constantly laced with guilt. The pleasure is always attached to shame. Shame shame shame fat fat fatty fat, we don't want to get fat, ooh a smaller portion, are you sure you want to eat that, subtle ways of saying that one shouldn't do a thing and it is bad because one will get fat and that is bad, and controlling controlling controlling! Always always always!

    As a teen, even though I as doing completely fine and stuff, even if I felt some shame and worry about being too fat or thing or not, my brother entered his adolescence and acted like SUCH A SHITHEAD (to this day the family always shakes their head and goes "ah yes, the age of the ass" in Spanish, that moment where teenagers act moody and often unreasonable and lash out or retreat and everything is a big deal... so starting since I was thirteen, no wait, fourteen, my brother became a bit of a constant enemy... picking fights, getting angry, trying to be controlling, and picking at weak spots.

    He would call me blubber nuggets, juggle my arm flab, call me a fatty, do a lot of shitty stuff. My parents told him to stop, I told him to stop, my parents got angry at him but it was so constant and difficult that they couldn't make him stop, and sometimes they just couldn't and we were both in trouble! And it made me so angry and so upset! At some point my mom told me I had the express permission of hitting and sitting on my brother so it hurt so he would learn to not mess with me and respect me, but I was always "noooo I couldn't he is my little brother :("

    In retrospect, I should have stood my ground and made my brother respect me, but hindsight is 20/20 and I was goody goody two shoes, and a lot of my identity was, and remains, tied to the idea of being a good one, of having the moral high ground... so it took until I was sixteen or nearly seventeen to snap and start literally throwing shoes at him and screaming, and this was when he was big enough to hurt me really badly.

    My brother stood and took it, and mom says she is pretty sure he knew he deserved it from how he had treated me. Since then my brother has grown up a lot, we've both grown, and he's apologized for his behaviour. It took a long time and it hurt.

    But despite all this, I had a healthy relationship with food when I started college in my late 17s. I'd spent a lot of high school doing basketball - three practices of two hours a week, sometimes more sports, sometimes less if I didn't have an accident (I am weirdly accident prone. I'm not even that clumsy, and I'm not fragile). I was in shape and strong and eating well, and surprisingly enough I didn't have a lot of cravings. Not eating a chocolate and avoiding buying that was relatively easy. I didn't feel stressed from holding out on eating a thing, beyond being very hungry in the afternoons and eating there. So I went to college and started my new life, and didn't even stop doing sports... I had a pretty smooth transition into quidditch practice three times a week, two hours, and walking absolutely everywhere. You know the freshman fifteen? That you gain 15 pounds? I lost weight my first two years, not a lot, just a bit and stayed pretty stable. I went to eat in the cafeteria, and even though I complained about gringo food, I ate well and healthy and it was tasty enough and I had options. I had my guideline, and I didn't feel guilty for not keeping to it if I broke it every once in a while... it was 50% of my plate for greens, usually salad (the salad bar was great, I could load up on the stuff I like and leave the rest, and I never liked dressing anyways), 25% for protein, 25% for carbs. I took fruit with me everywhere so if I was hungry I would munch on an apple or banana from the cafeteria, where I grabbed two bananas a day and stuck them into my backpack so I would be fine. If I was hungrier I ate more. If I wanted to treat myself I did. Some weekends I ate out with friends and left the Indian food restaurant almost waddling from being so full, but it was delicious and guilt-less because it didn't impact me. I didn't feel the constant craving hunger throughout my day that I do now.

    My change came around the time depression started affecting, maybe even before... it is hard to get a good idea, a good timing. I broke my knee (three hair line fractures in my tibia from hyperextension, but no surgery, three months no walking) in the beginning of my second semester of sophomore year, and it was hard but I thought I was tough and should deal. But it was hard. Living on crutches all the time meant I couldn't do any cooking if I didn't like things. I couldn't do sports I loved in the middle of the cold and got tired and in pain faster. I couldn't pick my plates of food how I like them in the cafeteria, so I had to rely on others for food and I hated that and sometimes I was so tired from the day that I didn't go to the cafeteria to eat food and ate what I could get from my room's stash. This was mostly instant ramen, granola, bananas... but not the usual fare. I gained some weight, but nothing drastic or big, and I didn't feel too bad... it made sense after such a disruption in fucking february, it was winter when I broke my leg. I would get better and go back to my usual state. By the end of the semester I was walking but couldn't really walk, and my knee still bugged me and I had finished my physical therapy sessions in the college's sports health center. I got no instructions on what to keep doing, whether I should do certain sports or movements, and I went on. That summer I stayed and worked in the college and started getting back on my feet (pun not intended but it happened and that is because I am awesome). It wasn't a great summer, but it was nice... I kept myself doing things, I did my job, and I stayed with friends.

    Junior year was hard. Instead of living in the dorms and eating in the cafeteria, I was lucky and invited by friends a year above me to join them in senior housing, an actual house with a kitchen and without shared rooms! I would have my own room! I cooked my own food, and it was hard to have all the salad I wanted because chopping all the vegetables gets tiring. My first semester, I decided that I was going to try for something I hadn't yet: four classes in the sciences and maths... instead of the two or three from the previous two years. And the fourth class I took was Introduction to Calculus, the accelerated one semester course instead of the year long.

    Calculus kicked my fucking ass. I thought I would do fine. Math is not my strength, but I always did fine if I studied and worked at it hard enough for it to "click" and to establish some of it in my head. I still have my algebra because of that. I had done fine in calculus in high school and a lot of the material covered in this class was what I had covered then.

    Good god it was terrible. I didn't learn from the professor, and we depended a lot on the book. When I thought I understood something, I would finish my homework and get it back only to find I had gotten only 2 or 4 problems out of 7 to 15 right. I went to EVERY teacher assistant's equivalent session. Each extra session, and stayed EXTRA time there studying with other classmates. I made FRIENDS from staying there four hours on a single problem set. I worked my ass off and studied and rewrote my notes and I still didn't get it.

    I probably would have been fine if it weren't for calculus. I knew it was going to be hard to go into a semester without a "break" class, so to speak, without a studio art or english class for fun to relax and do something different. And chemistry was not really hard, but definitely constant, and I loved my bio class even if it tired me out. But three science classes, each meeting for four hour of labs a week (twelve hours) apart from the three MWF classes (6 hours, nearly 7 hours a week), was a hard rhythm for me, still going to quidditch practices, still going to extra activities, still trying to have time to spend with my friends even if it was only homework... still drawing and bad at managing my time and forcing myself to go trough something harder and harder as I got more and more frustrated, angry, scared and sad about calculus class... it was hard. I developed insomnia, so that for an entire month I was lucky to get three hours of uninterrupted sleep a day, started missing classes, started making more mistakes, started getting more stressed and more sick more often... god remembering makes me sad. It was such a shitty time. I should have dropped calculus. I should have asked for help earlier. I was missing assignments and turning them in late. I was trying so hard.

    I ended up so bad that I ended up crying at my professors, at least, at the science ones, since they liked me and knew I was interested and worked hard, and I got exempted... got told that I could finish my final exams when I got back from the christmas break. I didn't get that for calculus, but at least having that space let me not fall apart. I barely remember that exam, I remember how the hall was, I remember that I nearly cried in the middle of the exam because I didn't get it and how could I not get the answer. I turned in the exam and gave up. fuck it. I hoped for a D. I got an F instead.

    BTW, everyone I know who has had that professor told me that the other one teaching at a different time slot was much, much better. FML.

    I spent christmas break recovering from my insomnia in a relative's house with my brother, spent Christmas with cousins and aunts, though not with my parents, and came back a bit more calm but still exhausted, and took the remaining exams and did fine enough. I did fine the next semester, started getting to a bit of a more normal pace, still tired and not stellar, but not fucking the first semester...

    At the end of the second semester my 19 year old cousin killed himself, and my depression swallowed me.

    I went home for the summer, did not stay to work, did not have the energy to apply to job opportunities. I grieved, my brother grieved, my parents grieved.

    I came back for Senior year, and it was hard. It was hard and I did not understand. I joined the counselling program for mourning loss. I tried to do my things, my senior year, and I was doing ok until I wasn't. I was so tired, and it was so grey, and I was letting so much slip, and I couldn't control my life anymore. I wasn't cooking. I didn't have the energy. I wanted more and more snacks and things, I was so tired that I craved that sugar and oil boost so bad, I wasn't sleeping well, I stayed up late when I could have because I couldn't stop reading things on the internet and wasting my time.

    Second semester was worse. I was slipping. I was desperate. I was falling. I barely cooked. I ate ramen and ramen and peanut butter sandwhiches at night, and even with my boyfriend and friends I couldn't. I couldn't. I don't know how I finished the semester. I gained a lot of weight. My face became round for the first time, my clothes didn't fit, I didn't have healthy eating habits, I was so tired and even though I mostly did quidditch I was so tired and busy.

    I graduated, and my parents who I hadn't really informed about this, who only knew a fraction of what I went through because I was afraid of failing them and disappointing them, but worst, worst of all, the worst thing I could have done, worrying them got angry. I hadn't managed to apply to jobs, to get internships for after college. I had gained a lot of weight. I didn't have stellar grades... I had forced myself into a 3.19, which isn't bad at all with depression in someplace as hard and competitive as Vassar, but it was not what any of us had expected... my mom got so angry a few days after my graduation, snarled that she couldn't believe that I had wasted and frittered away my time in college and gotten a 3.19 when a 3.20 is the minimum for good jobs, that I had gotten fat, that I had wasted my time on the internet and fooling around and with friends, and that I hadn't even made many friends, that when I was called on stage for my diploma almost no one cheered me or clapped for me so I didn't even get that.

    It is one of the things I have not forgiven my mom for. I am very sure she feels very guilty for that, especially with what she learned.

    I went back home, and I slept. And slept. And ate but eating was too much! I had to exercise! I got diagnosed. My parents didn't understand. We all had to learn what depression was, what living with it was. I slept 14 hours a day. I slept and slept and slept and cried and didn't react. My parents grew worried and fraught and desperate. Somewhere, somehow, things began improving. They stopped demanding and did more supporting, more listening. They learned more, grew aghast that I hadn't asked for help, that they hadn't known. I improved.

    But my eating habits haven't really improved much. I still hunger hunger hunger. I have cravings that I didn't have before. I sneak chocolates and chips and sugary oily junk food and gorge myself when no one sees me. When I used to not even want coca cola in a month, it is good if I go a week without buying myself one. I filled up with zits, I've never had acne problems, and they still won't leave. I am doing better, so much better, and I am so sick of this. I am still getting controlled and shamed for food. Are you going to eat that much food? Are you really going to do that? No! Don't eat that, that's too much! You know you shouldn't. That has carbs. You shouldn't eat bananas, they're the fruit with the most starch, eat this instead. But mom I get hungry. Well just use discipline. But I get tired. So do exercise you are tired because you don't do anything. I start getting more hungry, more desperate, more ashamed and more reticent and bitter. I am now eating pure sugar in spoons in silence and it is terrible. I used to hate that taste, couldn't stand pure sugar, barely used it in anything. I ate one third of a jar of jam the other day. I am so ashamed, so ashamed, I feel fat and ugly, and controlled, and food is pleasure and guilt pleasure and guilt and that feeds into each other so that I eat more and more and when I ask for help they help until they start shaming and controlling again because "If you won't do it yourself, I will make you do it so you can" because my parents want to help me improve and they tried something and it didn't work good enough, but they believe this other thing will. Why can't I discipline myself? WHy can't I CONTROL myself? Why am I always binge eating emotional eating, sneaking so many wrappers into the trash so that no one will see my sins and gluttony and I am eating and eating and eating.
     
  7. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    I brought this up to my therapist today. It was hard. It took a lot of effort and I hate it and I don't want to accept I have this problem, I don't want to view myself as fat, and I don't want to view fat as bad, and I don't want to be caught in this loop of shame and shame and shame and hate, I get better, and I am happy, but sometimes it isn't enough, it isn't good enough, and I just want to be like I was at eighteen, I want to look like I did.
    [​IMG]
    I love this photo. I wasn't ashamed of my body. I was gaining so much confidence in myself. I didn't feel ugly or weird like I had in high school, I felt pretty and confident and attractive and interesting. I had my style and clothes and I was doing more and experimenting. I love my college, I miss it so much, I had so much fun.
    Beginning of sophomore year was more of that.
    [​IMG]
    And... this is how I graduated
    [​IMG]
    I hate looking at photos from my graduation year. I hate looking at my recent photos. I look at the face and don't recognize it. I don't recognize the shape of my face, my neck, my chin. I hate it.

    I've lost some weight and I am more active and happier, but this still weighs on me. I'm working on this. I'm working on me. I am working on being happy and untangling what makes me really happy from poisonous ideas.

    I want to lose weight. I want to be a closer to how I was. I want to be sportsy and have the energy to climb mountains again, to play intense quidditch matches in cold and heat. I want ME back. I want MY ENERGY BACK. I want my CONFIDENCE. I want my body.

    It looks like I've had a lot pent up. And I am crying. And that is good. It is good to accept what I feel. I will not punish myself for feeling upset. I went through a lot and I have a right to be upset and cry like a baby here. I am not weak for that. I am still crying and making horrible faces like a baby.
     
  8. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    God I can see a change in my posture I hunch a lot now. I WANT TO SPREAD MY SHOULDERS BACK AND BE PROUD DAMMIT.
     
  9. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    It took effort but I brought this up. I admitted my problem. And at first I didn't feel too good about it, because she was giving me advice that I do, talking about replacements, things I always do. But she was trouble shooting, trying to see what I could do to fit my life and my way and that I can manage.
    Then we reached the topic of my parents... well more of, I kept going "but my mom says this" or "and then she takes this away" or "and the comments then make me feel guilty" and she... she went.
    "You need to tell them that you know and that they need to stop" she told me. "You think you don't have control in your life, because you depend on them, but you are an adult, and you can stand your ground and should. You need the reins in your life".

    And somehow I felt. I felt validated? Because she said that these things my parnets do, controlling how much I eat, whenever ,telling me again and again not to do something or to eat something instead of a banana... I have a right to go it is my choice. And... I don't know. It felt like
    It felt like talking about asserting my boundaries as I asserted my choices. I felt like I could create a space in my home where I would say "I need you to stop judging and talking to me about food. I will not accept these controls. I will eat a fucking banana if I want to, what is your deal? A banana is HEALTHY it doesn't matter if it has more starch and carbs than other fruit". It felt like I could stand up and make a space where food stopped being guilt and shame that leads to guilt again. It felt like being validated that I can choose and tell my parents enough. And that all the things I put up with and groan about and don't like...

    I am right to go no. I am right because it is my life and my decisions and that is all I need and she said that I need to make my own decisions. And I need to make them respect them. I need to respect myself.

    I felt that a lot more, and a bit of anger, and for once the anger wasn't followed with tamping down and shame, it was... it was also determination. It was anger that felt it could build instead of the destruction and rage that I fear all the time. It felt valid it felt like.... I thought "yes this is acceptable anger" and thus I didn't get feelings of shame and sadness I normally get at being angry.

    I get to fucking say "I WILL EAT MY FUCKING POPCORN AND YOU GET TO SHUT UP" ok so not that way, I wont scream and say it that way but.

    I get to.
    I don't know why this feels like a revelation. It was great. I feel like I was just given the power to do things. To make changes. I was already establishing more boundaries with dad, on purpose, with planned steps that I shared with her and she thought were great and creative (she said she loves how creative and resourceful I am about trying to help myself, that it shows that I am not sitting passively hoping things to get better).... and now I can. I can do that with both parents about food. I can remove the guilt. I can remove more shame. I think I can be strong enough to stand up and say "This is what I need, and I need you to stop because even if you disapprove you are hurting me more than eating a chocolate bar is". I need to stop feeling like hiding myself and my guilt.

    There is a weird sense of triumph here? It is anger but also happy anger, happy anger triumph. I haven't done anything at all, I have only changed a mindset, and I am crying a bit still but I can do things and I think. I actually think I could do this with time and change something that has been getting worse and get into habits that will help me. I can cut the nagging. I can do it. I CAN.

    FUCK I am crying again. I CAN DO IT.

    Sorry for the s
    No
    I am not sorry
    I will not be sorry
    I don't want to be a bother, but why would I be a botehr in my own thread? My drama is mine and if people don't like it it is fine.
    I don't need to apologize for theatrics or being overemotionalo ver something simple.
    Fuck it
    I need
    I need this and I WILL GET BETTER
    BECAUSE I CAN
    BECAUSE THIS IS MY LIFE
    AND I WANT TO HAVE MY DECISIONSA ND MY FUCK UPS
    AND NOT FEEL SHAME AND GUILTY FOR FUCKING UP
    TO LOOK AT IT AND GO "I MESSED UP" AND APOLOGIZE AND LEARN AND DO BETTEr
    BUT IT WILL BE MY CHOICE.
     
  10. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Ok so after I wrote that yesterday, I came down, and ended up just... talking about how my mind loops on negative thoughts and expectations constantly, shared that with my parents, and revisited college and what affected me how. Lots of crying. I spoke more than I usually do, tried not to shut down my reactions completely if something they did annoyed me or frustrated me, and spent probably an hour or two talking with them in the kitchen while we went over the loops and stuff I've talked with my therapist. I didn't touch the food stuff at all, but I think it was a good talk and it helps my parents know what is going on and what I am working on. I got to lean on mom's shoulder while watching dad made marmalade (jam?) in the kitchen (it turned out really tasty too). I got super tired and dehydrated but it worked ok. It helped to hear their reassurances, and it helped to go "this reassurance, I hear it and know it logically, but my brain just spat out the following response of why that means nothing and I am a failure" instead of feeling worse for not emotionally believing them (logically yes, I know, yes, etc, emotionally it is just... bluh).

    I think I'm just going to have to go through a stage of much more honesty, emotional honesty with them, even if only so that I can stop sitting on something for thinking it is a childish reaction and wanting to Do Better. Like the moment where I felt annoyed and went "I don't know why, but what you just said made me feel annoyed and frustrated with you" and dad went "That is because I made it condescending even if it wasn't meant to be". My parents were both light, reassuring, made nice jokes for me, and let me know that I am here to improve my health, to get better, not to get a job (I mentioned my feelings of failure for not having a job, for having wasted the many opportunities they've given me).

    I think my mom hit the nail on the head when she told me that I haven't stolen someone else's opportunities or chances or investment. That I haven't wasted my opportunities, that I have done a lot and keep on doing it, and am not pilfering what I receive. I so often feel like a fraud, even as I try to flood that feeling away, but I think I'll just... have to do the mindful observation from the therapist constantly. Put that feeling and instead of going "I shouldn't feel like a fraud [insert reasons why I believe I am a fraud/waste of effort]" I can go "I believe I am a fraud, and it is making me upset and stressed and anxious" and... work on not making that feeling another reason to find myself lacking for somehow not being a perfect adult at peace with her flaws and still improving them.

    It was exhausting. I've also had a light cold going on since Friday and even though I've been resting and looking after myself it's been even more tiring, and also today was Portuguese inside essay, which is important. Also I went to the doctor and waited like an hour and a half since I didn't have an appointment - on Sunday I cut my toenails, and one got... incrusted? Yesterday night when I changed for bed I saw that it had gotten infected. I had felt the pain but it was mild and I ignored it since it was small but woops. I did get it looked at today and dad decided to come keep me company so I'd have back up just from the exhaustion. Even though I got jabbed with the local anesthesia six times, it still hurt when he was moving and pulling and stuff to find and pull out the nail piece in there. I'm still not sure how that piece of nail got there.... the point of entry was not the corner of my nail, it was in like...
    If this is a nail: ------- < marks where: -------
    | | | |
    | | | | <
    cuticle cuticle

    I am v. tired and headachy and my body aches as a whole. I am also really sick of the whole mucus through nose thing. It keeps getting hard and I am trying to stay hydrated. I would like for this to stop. But otherwise I am pretty ok and I am happy for it.
     
  11. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    In my ongoing wall of text adventures in this thread I am updating that today the exhaustion finally won and I basically spent all day in bed.
    I am ok with this, because it probably has something to do with the start of my period taking everything into "DFSFDASFA" mode.
    I am so tired
     
  12. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Recently: Pleasant overall, no real stressors, surprisingly energetic.
    Today: Still pleasant until Father fireworks. Now I presume I am really angry and that is why my jaw hurts though I am not grinding my teeth. I was getting more angry to the point of nearly screaming in a grimace before tamping it down several times in the last half hour. Currently separated from anger a bit.

    What happened: This morning, dad did the week grocery shopping, and drove to a bunch of places because healthier food + cheaper + errands. He came back home and asked me to help him put away everything. I put away nearly everything. The only things left out are a herb, which is soaking in water with slight acid to get rid of some bacteria, and some ground meat. The ground meat is in the process of being made into hamburgers that I will freeze for low spoon nights. Dad finishes heating up our lunch before I finish mixing the meat with spices, and so it is left on the counter.

    Lunch + watched episode of a show with parents as family bonding + relaxation. Everyone was happy and calm. Dad fell asleep watching TV. Mom asked me to check out if the ... blackheads? are back on her back and to extract if so. Started doing so. Dad walked in, evinced surprise "So that is where you disappeared to". Pointed out that the meat was still out on the counter. I responded that he was right and I would finish it in a bit. Mom explained that she asked me to help her with her back, asked him to put it in the fridge. Dad suddenly angry. He left, stepping heavily muttering. Put the bowl with ground meat in the fridge and closed the door loudly. Came back, speaks loudly and angry that it is irresponsible and that we always leave things halfway and that the meat would spoil. Got super angry and repeating himself, leaves stomping. Mom and I remained as neutral as possible and not looked at him when he started doing this. We were now tense, and dad was moving in loud movements and moving things in the kitchen. Mom told me to go finish the hamburgers. When I entered the kitchen I saw that dad was making himself a tray of food and coffee, still muttering very angry. I was surprised by how fast he had snapped into this level of anger, as he usually escalates over a conversation, not snaps suddenly like he did when mom asked him to put the bowl in the fridge. He snaps angrily at the dogs to get out of his way and tells me loudly that he is going upstairs and no one is to bother him. Stony face ignored him. I finishe the kitchen things and cleaning up and did my own thing. Mom left to meet a friend to see a musical, saw dad only twice when he came downstairs to use the bathroom, and he was civil.

    When I went to my room to put my things away and start getting ready, I discovered four boxes of tea bags on my bed. Dad was complaining/asking for us to put the boxes away into the pantry, and I kept forgetting, because I am forgetful about things like that when my mind doesn't register the small stack of tea boxes as messy, and it is not dirty and thus not unhygienic which would bring me to action. I realized that he must have brought the boxes here, instead of expending less effort to put the boxes away. I got mad, and immediately thought of either taking the boxes and leaving them on his bed for when he came down, or walking upstairs and just dropping them on his lap. I then thought of taking only the camomile box (for calming) and putting it on his pillow. I dismissed that as being petty, childish, and passive aggressive, however tempting it was because he had done so first and he is my dad who is supposed to be an adult. I complained to mom who shook her head and sighed. I told her about my wish to leave the boxes there and she said no. The conversation goes on as I half convinced myself that it would be fair to leave the camomile tea there, but she disagreed. I argued saying that it was right that he face his own actions. Mom told me not to treat dad like a normal human being because he isn't. I got angry. I felt like it meant we should always dance around his moods and anger and I am sick of that. I have no longer been putting up with it more and more and my therapist thinks that my method for interactions with my dad when he is angry or overreacting is good. I felt that it was unfair. I told mom that no, he is an adult and needs to face the consequences of his actions. I told her that I think we are enabling dad's moods by putting up with them instead of putting a clear message that it is unacceptable behaviour. Mom said that whatever, but that she was the one who got woken up when he got angry while looking at the bed they share. I decided to directly talk to my dad, and walked upstairs with one of the boxes and stood there drawing his attention until he asked me civilly what was up. I showed him the box and he didn't seem to register why I was showing it, he looked confused. I told him that I had found four boxes on my bed. I see his expression change from confused to... haughty/reserved/indifferent. He said yes, what of it. I told him that it was childish. He was silent for a few seconds, and as I was leaving and feeling that I had made my point, he said "yes, you just had to put them away". I turned around and made a "are you kidding ugh" type gesture and expression. I repeated that it was childish. I was leaving again and he said that he was going to throw away boxes he didn't find. I half shouted back since I was going downstairs already to not do it again.

    This latter event makes me more angry than the first. When my emotions are peaking through they are anger with tears. I am not comfortable and don't know how to deal with this. I want to scream at dad but I can't. I am annoyed that his definitions of what is fine are more important. I am frustrated that he takes me forgetting things that are not urgent or big as such big issues. I am angry that he has not apologized for his actions. I am angry because he was the only one bothered by the tea boxes, so all he had to do was put them away. I am angry at my mom for just. Acting like dad should be excused when he is a douche and for saying I should laugh it off. I am angry at my dad for ruining a perfectly good day, and now I can't breathe deeply from the tension, when I am trying to breathe deeply constantly to keep myself energized and healthy, especially thanks to yoga. My jaw aches from holding it open as I was clenching a bit earlier. I want to scream but also I don't want to scream.

    I am overreacting I am not I don't know. Repressing is probably not good for me. I haven't even started the "Food" conversation with my parents.
     
  13. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Reviving this thread because despite being better off than I was in November, I really need to just. Vent. And I haven't been talking about my dad at all even though a lot of my emotions and conflicts revolve around them and God, the idea of writing a summary of what it has been like here is exhausting so I'm going to start with today as short as possible.

    Today, we had a plumber over to fix stuff in two of the bathrooms. Dad had a teleconference in the morning, so I was charged with keeping an eye on him and stuff. I kept an eye on him and made sure to be in the room next to the bathroom. In the meantime, I was working, since that brings money, on the laptop. I saw him go get tools and into the kitchen, where the maid was working, so he was never out of sight and stuff. The plumber left for a bit, probably to get lunch, but I didn't check with him. Dad finished teleconference, and asked me how stuff was going. I said it was doing fine, and he asked me if I had seen what he had done in the bathroom. I said no. Internal facepalm. Of course I should have gone see stuff occasionally in person. We went to the bathroom, and it was a bit dirty and wet. Dad told me off a bit but it was fine since he was right that this is part of being in charge, making sure they clean up behind themselves to leave it as it was, make sure it was working for sure, etc. He tried to flush the toilet but it didn't work better than usual, in fact worse than usual. He looksed at me significantly. "But he isn't done." "Oh I thought he had since he isn't here". Before I could answer the maid came by and said that he plumber had said to not flush it yet since something was drying. Woops. Dad was angry at me for not doing what he asked of me to be in charge and responsible and thus being able to warn about stuff like that and know what is going on. I told him he is right, and that I was sorry, and I would pay better attention, because he was right, I wasn't about to argue about that. "I wish I could believe that [I would pay better attention], it seems like you never learn". Ok thanks for the parting shot. Dad left to work on a thing outside the house. Day goes by, yadda yadda.

    Skip to like 6 pm, he was in a fairly good mood, though we didn't really interact (reason for not interacting will be written down in a summary of a different sort later). An hour ago he asked me if I was going to take care of a chore we had agreed on, and I said yes. He repeated again, "are you sure you know everything? You're going to wake up at 8am to walk the dogs and not sleep in again?" "I only slept in for twenty minutes!" "You need to take them out at exactly eight am". And then "You know what you have to do tomorrow" "Yes dad, I do." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, oversee the painters who will work on varnishing the top of comodas, walk the dogs at 8 am" "But have you taken out the drawers from the comodas yet?" "No, but I will" "Before tomorrow" "Yes, before tomorrow". In short, it was just, an exhausting questioning of making sure Raire knows what to do. After interrupting to bring up that tomorrow the maid doesn't work, and that meant I was exclusively in charge of the house, he left with a parting shot of "I wish I could trust in you". Wow thanks. Just. Keep digging it in.

    I got up and went to do the drawers thing. Dad called from the other room, but I told him that no thanks, it was too late and I would have to take a shower anyways. For clarification: I have become very allergic to dust mites. I am not sleeping in my room right now, I basically live in the living room where my mattress was taken so it can receive more sunlight and so I can sleep somewhere that is not my room, the dustmite trap of rugs, little sunlight, and humidity. I try to go into my room the least possible to avoid setting the allergic reaction off, since it is fucking crazy. "Wait, why didn't you tell me you couldn't do it?" "I thought the allergy thing was obvious..." "Well, no, it wasn't, or well, I forgot, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to do this". "Ok". "Here I will do this, you need go to shower, now" Ok. He told me I needed to open my mouth and use it, it is important to keep my health. So I showered and I got dressed. He asked me again why I hadn't said anything, if he was really so unpredictable and irrational (his words, not mine, though I was certainly thinking them in the shower about how of course I don't say anything, I'm sick of not knowing if he'll be reasonable dad or if he will find fault with everything) that I wouldn't bring up something important to my health. I said yes. Response that I should not take these risks! I told him I just didn't want to run the risk of an "UGH you ALWAYS have excuses". Response: "There is a BIG difference between excuses to not do something and something important to your health. That you can't tell them apart tells me that you haven't matured yet." "No I just can't tell when you will react well" "No, you are being irrational, but its ok, I know I'm the bad guy here just go" and I left and just

    I am so mad and upset and tired and
    I am so tired of not being able to know when I can trust my dad to not blow his lid or even exaggerate.

    So I just, I started crying quietly and digging my nails into the wall in another room so I wouldn't like, scratch them against the wall which was what I felt like doing. He passedby and just. God the chain of events is ALREADY getting confused in my head! I HATE THIS. I hate how muddled it gets I hate how fucking confusing the actual chain gets so I just don't know which words or actions provoked which responses. I think he said something and I was just still angry but I didn't want to BE HERE so I went to the stairs outside the apartment door and cried there a bit but dad got there within two minutes (he must have heard me leaving the door ajar or the dogs trying to get to me and accidentally closing it and then whining) and told me to get in. He... said something? I think it was that look, I had the entire day to do x, but that I hadn't - and then I cut him off, yes, I remember this, because I was suddenly really angry, so I cut him off loudly to STOP punishing me. he told me he wasn't punishing me, but I told him that he was, that he was emotionally punishing me. And he said that I punish myself. And then we weren't talking since I had walked back into the living room and sat there and cried some more and then came here. All he has said since then is "the dogs need to be taken for a walk". And I just. THAT ALSO makes me angry, because around three months ago he just, he got mad that I was so sensitive to his words, I think I was trying to open up and talk about how the things he says hurt me in ways he doesn't intend and it feels like he's trying to rub salt in the wound to make sure I don't forget next time BUT I WILL FORGET I AM FORGETFUL I AM DISTRACTED I CAN'T HELP THAT IVE TRIED I HAVE TRIED SO HARD I AM SO SORRY I AM SORRY I CANT BE A GOOD HUMAN BEING I AM SORRY I AM NOT ACCEPTABLE I AM SORRY I AM NOT A RESPONSIBLE HUMAN BEING. And he was just, in that car ride where I had tentatively broached this, about the way he tells me off things even when he speaks evenly, if he just, goes back to what he already said and repeats it, or does it a third time, that it feels like he's just driving me into my failures and being passive aggressive and implying more than he is saying about my failure, so I wanted this to reinforce how I have asked him to just STOP REPEATING what he asks or says like five times in two minutes which he always responds with "If you did what you had to do I wouldn't need to repeat it! IF you would just fulfill your promises and chorse I wouldn't have to repeat myself, but since you never learn I have to go on over and over because it goes in one ear nad out the other" and just. I hate it and I am so tired an we have asked and tried to ask for that to end but no he always does that he did that today you saw that right? And I think in that drive, later, because that part hadn't made him angry, he asked why I hadn't done a [job search thing] for so many days, and I said that it was hard and I couldn't make myself do it, because I have a stupid blcok on job seeking things because I get my fear putting me off and somehow just... fucking block. And he asked why I didn't ask for help, he could have walked me through it, and I went oh, thats right, I didn't think of it. And he at some point... I think he asked me if I trusted him? No, he asked why I didn't ask for help in general, and then I took a chance for... I knew it would hurt him, but I hoped we would reach a new level of understanding and deconstructing what is hurting us between the two of us, and said that the reason was that I couldn't trust him to help me. And he got mad. And he had been so good and careful and tender to not set me off because we all know that I am stupidly sensible to criticism especially from parents so they were changing things to help me, and just, I was sohappy, we were working on things and I felt secure, that is why i took the chance in the first place to say that no, often I didn't trust him with stuff like this! And he got angry! And just! He proved the point! That Ican't trust him not to get angry! I can't trust him not to take what I say as excuses or... I DON'T KNOW. I am jsut so tired. I dont know when he'll look at a mistake or that I forgot to wash a plate and go "oh you forgot to wash a plate please wash it now" or when he will go on a tirade about how we (we generally being mom and I, but sometimes my brother too bu he isn't living here so he isnt the target so much) never take care or clean things and that he is always picking up after us and that it was our fault for dirty things and insects and just. The majority of the time I do remember! I do! But he then thinks I fail constantly! And I am so tired! I get so angry adn defensive and upset! And so things kept going on after that car ride convo, and things went on, and I just keep getting more emotional and raw, and he finally went just. "FUCK IT! I SEE I AM THE BIG BAD MEANY WELL SINCE I CAN'T GIVE YOU ANY ADVICE WITHOUT YOU GETTING HURT BY IT WE WILL JUST NOT TALK BEYOND THE BASICS OF SHARING A LIVING SPACE. LIVE YOUR LIFE I WILL NOT INTERFERE ANYMORE, THE ONLY THING I WILL TALK ABOUT ARE DAILY LIFE BASICS".

    So I haven't been having positive interactions with my dad for a while. And wary all the time that he'll get angry and still go after me. And even sometimes the softer remonstrations/scoldings of I forogt x/haven't done y yet set me so tense and it hurts. And now I don't even get my dad, I don't get to have my dad, I don't get hugs or to say kisses on the phone, I don't get to share things with him to make him laugh, the most of that is emails of stuff he thought i would find interesting and i know he loves me and he is better than he was but it hursti t hurts i feel hurt and abandoned and a sore spot of WRONG and FAILuRE and NOT ENOUGHT and I am trying to fight that I am trying so hard to fight that tat it s what my therapy is on right now we are trying to fortify myself and move around those false believes and stupidly high expectations of myself and perfectionism but it jurts ut hurts and I wanna lie down and I am so tired of having to be on edge around my dad, always wary and always waiting, and not sure when he will be WHAT. I can't TRUST my dad to be helpful for my mental health, and npw I don't even have a PROPER RELATIONSHIP and I am SO ANGRY at him because he gets SO DEFENSIVE and makes himself THE VICTIM by going ŸES I KNOW I AM THE BAD GUY" *stomps off in a huff* *ok not actually stomping* and then he goe sabout how he will LEAVE US ALL and NEVER BOTHER US AGAIN IN OUR LIVES AND JUST. IT MAKES ME ANGRY THAT IS BLATANT MANIPULATION I LITERALLY SHOULTED AT HIM ONCE TO STOP MAKING IT ABOT HIM AND OTHERWISE JUST IGNORE IT AND I MISS Y DAD I MISS THE DAD WHERE I COULD AT LEAST HAVE POSITIVE INTERACTIONS WITH AND TALK, AND MAKE JOKES, OR DISAGREE ABOUT POLITICS WITH I can't, I can't, everything is a timebomb again, and it isn't even as bad as it was before because his explosions are so much smaller and so much more controlled he loves me and he loves mom and he works hard at changing and it isn't enough and I miss my daddy and I fucking hat this I fuck hate this I need to take the dogs but I can't I can't I'm leaking snot and he said he woouldn't hep with the dogs anymore when he se tths not interacting in general rule, because apparently that doesn't count as household responsibilities that include him, no, and it is harder, and I am tired and I want this to stop I want my papi back I want to be stronger I AM SORRY. I AM SORRY I FORGET. I AM SORRY I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE I AM SORRY. I HAVE TRIED CHANIGN IG KEEP TRYING TO CHANGE AND I CANT I AM SORRY I JUST CANT I AM SORRY.
     
  14. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Kind of resentful that dad saw me crying when he passed by to walk the dogs and didn't do anything... Well I took the dogs for a walk and it was nice even if my face is a blotchy mess. Got back, washed some plates, and now I had some yoghurt with dad's homemade orange jam mixed in for more sweet and as a ... little pacification? a treat to feel better?. Wordsss. Gonna sleep. :(
     
    • Like x 1
  15. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    He came back. He brought a pain au chocolat as a peace offering, in case it could help me feel better, and apologized. He said that he knows he can be a brute, and that he doesn't want to hurt me, and to never doubt that he loves me. He also said that he did think that it might be better for all of us if he left, but that it was not me, it was all him. So.

    I do feel better. I feel calm. I feel less like I did today which was, just, detached from any feelings. Kind of :| only more serious face. The pain au chocolat was tasty, and we're not hanging out but, I feel ok.
     
    • Like x 1
  16. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    It has been a while since I posted here.

    I'm doing better overall, but it would be a pain to try and summarize it, so I'm going to just go straight to what I can use right now, which is motivating myself to do things today.

    It is 2:30. At 4pm I have my weekly appointment with my psychologist. I can't remember if we agreed on something particular last week. I basically didn't sleep all last night and finally got like, two hours of sleep at midday. So I'm going to do this before... 3:30

    1. Brush my teeth
    2. Take my meds
    3. Shower and wash my hair
    4. Get dressed
    5. Make bed and organize my room.

    If I do this fast enough, I can post again and plan my next steps before leaving for my appointment at 3:45, since this is walking distance. If not, I will post after my appointment and after I walk my dogs. I am feeling kind of dumb and stretched and thin, so I think I won't go to the classical concert this night. I might buy myself a treat on the way back, a chocolate, or something.
     
    • Like x 2
  17. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Did everything but wash my hair (ponytail to save time) and make my bed. Good enough.
     
    • Like x 2
  18. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Therapy went well. Exhausted. Treated myself to cookies and chocolate and a coca cola. I need the coke to stay awake.

    Walking dogs now, after I spend ten minutes resting.
     
    • Like x 2
  19. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    I've gotten better at not taking my dad's complaining, or his jokes, or his criticisms (they all tend to get to me despite their differences because it turns out I am super sensitive to dad's words) to heart when we're out, and at making jokes in return. He mentions that the pans I burnt when I was cooking as an older teen continue to get stuff stuck more than the others; I exclaim in delight that I have a legacy. He starts winding up as we leave the supermarket because he got stressed when he couldn't find me as I hadn't warned him that I'd gone to grab the non-veggies or fruit stuff in our list, complaining that because I had "disappeared" and he didn't have the list, that we had gotten "tons of doubles" because he had no idea I was getting that item in our list? Reply in a light tone "that is the dumbest complaint, there was only one item we doubled up on, we had two butters! Two sticks of butter, omg! What do we do with two whole sticks of butter?!", and he cracked a smile at my sarcasm.

    I'm a bit tired all of a sudden, but doing well. Today is one of those days where shit just happens - the traffic was terrible, we couldn't find loads of things in the list, mom had her sweater inside out, etc. We're managing well despite it all with a good sense of humour.

    Now to go to the city's Book Fair, a friend of my dad's is presenting her book there.
     
  20. Raire

    Raire Turquoise Helicoid

    Never mind, tension finally broke and mom and dad are arguing. Sigh.
     
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