Mental stuff. Literally

Allein, allein

Watched interesting interview with Fiona Apple and Quentin Tarantino. As much as I find his movies a bit so so I like the enthusiasm he shows for them. It’s almost child like.  Made me smile. During the interview Fiona said that she craves human interaction but is overwhelmed when it happens so she has to be alone a lot to want to be around people again. That rang a bell.

I’m alone a lot, too. I am horribly neglectful to my friends (if they’d still consider me that).  It builds up, not answering an email straightaway, then having that on my mind for a few days thinking I just need to find a quiet moment (funny), then getting a bad conscience and finally putting it in my mental “don’t even touch it” drawer.  That thing is full, I am unhappy to say.

Interacting with people has acquired the connotation of facing my failures, so I avoid it “what are you up to, how’s Uni, found a job yet?” Etc. There’s no ill will in those questions, but I feel small when being asked them. S. knows I hate them, so he doesn’t ask. With him it’s easy.  We know each other since kindergarten, I know not to put my finger on his wounds and he doesn’t either. We watch movies together, or bad TV like infomercials or drive around with the music we currently or used to love  as our soundtrack. But it has been months.  Last time was Christmas (his Mum always invites me on the 25th for coffee and cakes, she likes me, like an amusing pet)
Other social interaction is online or family.  Most times I just react even there. I don’t want to be alone all the time.  I just don’t know how to maintain my friendships.  Or if they are friendships worth keeping. Also I can’t communicate with anyone who isn’t very close during my dark weeks.
Dark weeks.  Or months.  I can’t expect understanding, so I don’t.  And watch movies they would not like anyway, so it makes sense. And then  I don’t feel lonely, just alone. Clever me.


Downtown Train

Snoozed for a few hours and suddenly jerked awake with this song playing in my mind. I’ve dreamed the song. Not as an accompanying soundtrack, but Tom singing it on the described vehicle with me sitting there as well. Never been to NYC.

You don’t say , brain. Are you trying to be funny?

Thought for the night…

Looking at his pictures and crying over the sheer beauty of his body that he can’t see, even though I tell him it floors me. I know he feels similar towards my own, which I cursed at a lot in the past. Not so much anymore. I’m sorta over that. Now it’s my inside that I feel is ugly.
Funny how things switch. It used to be the other way round.

I need a mental diet and workout.

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Trying to get some.
Started jogging again although I get embarrassed by my complexion which turns into an agressive shade of neon orange-red. But apparently warm colours look good on me anyway, been analysed by some keen amateurs recently. Although I bet they were mainly talking about eyeshadows and foundation.It works good thus far, iPod with in ear noise cancelling earplugs helps to keep going. I feel my ass getting perkier, although it’s miles away from being a tight package.

Maintaining. Keeping the vegan thing going. Cooking, trying to eat healthily, which is easier because many unhealthy products are out of bounds anyway because they either contain egg or dairy products.And meat, but I haven’t had that in over 3 years anyway.

Getting up early although I don’t have to.

Paying the bills and all that jazz.

And therapy, or more so the look out for it. Other therapist made me feel like a  child, and although I act like one at times I still want to be taken seriously. Not being kept waiting for an hour EVERY time I went is part of this.

Still get very edgy. Like David Byrne puts it: I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax.
I know so much stuff looms over me. Like finding a place to live, job, getting my university stuff sorted. And what  I may find out once I have a therapist, because it sure as hell ain’t gonna be pretty.

Le sigh. (<–what’s that about anyway? I’m sure there are french young people who could explain. Or google.)

Anyway. Those dishes look viciously alive. You are gonna be clean soon, fuckers! Just you wait!

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My Body Is A Cage

Originally by The Arcade Fire

About Me or First Post or Hiya

Living with mental health issues is not something that makes you a more colourful,interesting person.It’s not a badge of honour.
However, you are forced to think about why you act like you do, what makes your mind, brain, self  seem different from others, why certain mundane tasks seem like such a hassle and why you react so much more extreme to – let’s say: a song, painting or book – it makes you more sensitive to emotions in general.
At least that’s the case with me. Or maybe that’s independent from it. Who knows.

Often mental health sufferers have problems transporting the weight of their situation to family members or friends, even therapists. Or themselves. The amount of diminishing that goes on is staggering, because the gray areas between having a bad day, week or just a difficult situation to deal with and the constant state of feeling different is not easy to explain to people who have never felt it. Often you get : “Pull yourself together, everybody has got problematic situations.” I got : “I know you’re having problems, but you are also using them to hide behind them” That sounds reasonable on first glance because it acknowledges understanding, but it also says “You’re not working hard enough. You’re not trying. Get over it”
This is partly my fault because I have always tried to put myself down for failing, therefore never being totally honest if someone asks “How are you. Like, really?”
Because it’s bad enough to fail.Then analyzing why is hard work. Completely opening to the amount of fail and the reasons why is almost impossible for me. That’s why I act as if it’s not as bad as it really is until I start believing it myself.

And yes, I am unreasonable. I treat my body badly, I smoke too much. Well I smoke. Full stop. I do eat crappy foods sometimes to make me feel better or worse.
I do get myself in situations that I know are going to bite me in the back on the long run.
I let stuff grow up to a pile that is so much harder to tackle than if just did small amounts of work.

I don’t always do this consciously, but sometimes I do to avoid (big mistake) and I’m good at avoiding. I almost perfected lying, cheating, weaseling out of situations.
Because I’m scared. And there are a lot of things that are scary in this world.  Others are manageable, but I feel like they’re not.

But I’m trying. Because I’m not happy. So I want to share my self, in hope to see it clearer.