People… confuse me. They always have. I can empathise with a person, I can try to understand why they feel things and do things but I just can’t connect with them. I think I’m too much in my own head for that. I get too paranoid, nervous. The more I interact with people, the worse it gets. And a lot of people I know have their own little opinion on why that is, and to be quite honest, I don’t care to hear what they think they know, because, to be frank; they don’t.
They don’t see or hear me getting pissed at them for an imagined (or real) slight, because I don’t show it. I don’t do that. They don’t see me in sobbing fits that wake the neighbours because I’ve happened to piss someone off and find out about it. They don’t see the times I cannot express myself or contain my rage/panic/sorrow and thusly tear out my hair or hurl myself into walls and doors in fits like a bratty toddler.
Of course, people think that knowledge fixes things. Sometimes it only compounds the issue and adds more to your already overcrowded mind and frustrates you all the more because, dammit, simple things shouldn’t be this hard.
Sometimes the only reason you talk to people is because the guilt and anxiety you’ll feel if you don’t will make your life so very much worse for yourself, so you do it, and you hide how you feel, because what is the point in telling them? It’ll make you feel ashamed, them feel uncomfortable and both of you feel down. So you hush.
I feel things rather too strongly at times, as we all do. My coping mechanisms are still in infancy in some things in life, and while it’s not my fault, it’s mine to fix, and it’s very difficult to do so. Try to explain and people treat you like you’re a benefit fraud or a retard. Even people who are supposed to love you. And even if they don’t treat you like that, you think they do. It’s fun. (Sarcasm, there.)
Thing is, you feel stuff too strong, you overreact, you got to realise other people have feelings and reactions of their own. So, you hide yourself away, but that hurts them as well. When they’re around, perhaps you take it out on them. you can’t do anything right, except try your damndest and my GOD if you don’t do the wrong thing almost every time, but you still keep going.
Right now, I’m in a difficult place. I made friends – ACTUAL humans – of a few neighbours. This is a new development and not one without its problems, especially when they have problems similar to your own.
I’m withdrawing from a very difficult medication and onto playing around with new ones in eventuality and the discontinuation is worsening, understandably, the more I taper off. I do know it’ll end.
My breast tumor seems to have grown, although I’m not sure – upon my exam the doctor discovered another in the other one, so I got a fast tracked appointment to attend during a school half term next week, which I’m really not looking forward to, especially since the withdrawals have been unbearable the last day or so.
But, hey. I got reasons to live somewhere that mean absolutely NOTHING to me right this minute, which is just lovely for everyone who’s a part of my life.
I’m really, really tired. People see the thing I have to be around them and they don’t know how much it exhausts me. They know I’m pathetic but they have no idea how bloody useless I am. I’m fighting because if I don’t, people make me feel bad. I’m not fighting for me, I just want some peace. I stop the facade even a little and the concern/third degree/whatever is just so unbearable I either feel guilt or just so angry I want to tear down everything.
Anyway, I vent. I don’t really care for response. I just have nowhere to put this and actually voicing it is more trouble than it’s worth, as usual.
Things and stuff and stuff and things! 