Eh…

Mood hasn’t gotten much better since the last time I wrote a week ago. Well, it actually has, but I’m in a shitty mood right now. As always, stressed about the job search. I put in 3 apps yesterday, I just put one in, but there literally aren’t any new job listings in my zip code that I haven’t already seen. I’d love to plug away and put in 10 apps a day until I finally found a job, but there just aren’t that many jobs around here.

Like every day that goes by that I haven’t found a job, I just lose hope. I’m wondering why I’m even going through this whole charade. I keep consistently putting in job apps, and I keep consistently not even getting a damn rejection courtesy email. Before I used to get a fair amount of interviews (but not get the job) but now it seems like I’m not even getting interviews. I know a very common way my anxiety manifests itself is in my tendency to follow through every situation to it’s terrible possible conclusion, but when is this shit going to end?

I’m pretty much down to the minimum amount that you can have in your savings account and still keep it active. My parents are paying my bills right now with the stipulation that I begin paying them back once I secure employment (if, I mean, at this rate).

I’m just so disappointed in myself. When I think back on first moving here, this isn’t at all how I thought things would go. I had a full time, decent paying job, I had an apartment, I could afford rent and bills… fast forward to now, I’m literally in a constant state of anxiety, where it’s an accomplishment if I can even do dishes and take a shower in the same day, nevermind actually boiling water and even making myself ramen.

I get so depressed because it seems like the only way to have a job back again is to go back to the call center. Which I can’t do, because I get upset just thinking about how hard it was for me there, especially the last like 4-5 months I was there. I mean, I could pay my bills, but that was about the only thing. And then I just hate myself because I know there are people that deal with far worse situations than me and haven’t completely lost their damn minds.

I mean, take this with a grain of salt because I drank a bit last night so I didn’t take my meds.

That’s how I know I have a problem, I get anxious about my anxiety meds. It would be funny if I wasn’t trying not to cry in public writing a damn blog entry like the lame ass nerd I am. What I meant to say is, it seems like I don’t even enjoy my non stressed moments because then I’m insecure about the fact that it seems like I can’t even miss my meds for ONE DOSE because I can definitely feel it.

How the hell am I supposed to be an independent adult with my brain being against me at every single turn?

And the most frustrating thing is, there are two local establishments that regularly post job openings, and if my application isn’t still active from the last time, I apply every single time, and yet I consistently don’t even get a damn interview. I didn’t think a chain pizza joint (it rhymes with pizza tut) was that discerning with their employment. I couldn’t even get a damn interview at the golden arches fast food place that I can literally see from my living room window.

And then I start to dwell on my past mistakes. I fucked up so much before, (even somewhat recently, i.e. my last job) that maybe all those mistakes are hurting my chances at employment.

This isn’t anything I can take to my parents because they either go “See we told you blahblahblahblah” or “I keep telling you to blahblahblahblah but you don’t and now see where you are” or whatever in not so many words.

I mean I literally mention my guilt about the past in every single therapy session I have, and yet it still consistently comes up in each subsequent therapy session.

It’s so exhausting living in a state of constant (most likely) unfounded guilt. Guilty about what I did before, guilty for what I’m doing now, guilty for what I’m GOING to do, it’s like christ, I feel guilty just for being alive on the planet. I basically ruined my parents lives by being born and turning in a piece of shit, and I’m still ruining it. My dad gets disability and can’t currently work at his part time job yet (he’s recovering from rotator cuff surgery) and my mom makes way less money at her current job but they’re currently paying my bills, giving me gas money… shit, dad gave me forty bucks before I left their house on Sunday from spending the weekend. And I don’t deserve any of it. Dad was right when he said I was a burden on everyone’s life, because all I do is cost them money and stress them out. Even my sister, it seems like, because when am I not messaging her when I’m really upset but don’t want to stress out my other anxiety having friends about it? When you really think about it, people would have been so much better off without me having been born into the universe.

And it’s hard to give a fuck about your unemployment when you kind of wish you’d never been born

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UGH.

I wasn’t even going to write anything but I have like 45 minutes to kill before my therapy appointment and I’m so not going home for that little amount of time.

Let’s see. This past week and a half have sucked a huge diseased scrotum. Last night was the first night in a week and a half that I haven’t had completely shitty sleep. I’m talking, go to bed at 10, wake up at midnight, up until 2-3, then can only sleep until 5am kind of thing. And that wasn’t even the worst one. This is probably the most stressed I’ve ever been, second only to when I worked at the call center I used to work at.

If I’m going to be this stressed all the time, I may as well just fucking go back to that dump. At least I’ll be able to pay my bills. But I know that really wouldn’t work that well. Facebook having their on this day bullshit serves as more than a vehicle for outdated memes, it reminds me of certain things. And my anxiety was literally the worst it’s ever been in my life the last 5-6 months I worked there.

I would sob every morning before work, sob at work before work started, sob intermittently throughout the day, then immediately upon getting home for the day, I would get really upset that I’d have to do the whole song and dance over again the next day. It was pure hell. So I know going back really isn’t an option, unless I want my mental faculties to deteriorate even more.

As of yet I have been able to avoid relapsing into self harm, but man, picture this; I’m sitting on the couch, sobbing, holding my phone which is blaring some random Paul McCartney song. And I mean I’m sobbing so hard that I know if I get up in the next 15 minutes self harm is going to happen. I’m able to hold this shit off because I don’t really want to have to explain to people that my mental health has really sucked that bad in the recent past.

But it’s like, holy fucking ballsack, I can’t keep doing this.

I’m waiting to hear back about a job. Little over a week ago I applied to have a temporary position at an art gallery (it’s only open during the summer/early fall). That was a week ago. I’ve been stressing to fucking asgard and back several times over since then.

I say this over and over because it’s true, but I really am looking. I’m trying so fucking hard to find a job. I monitor the online job board I use constantly, sometimes several times in a single day. It’s not that I’m not trying. It’s just that, my anxiety is literally so bad, that lately I’ve fallen back into that “Hey let’s only shower once every 3-4 days, and let the dishes pile up until we’re literally out of clean dishes, silverware, and pots to cook shit in, meanwhile let’s move the xbox and tv into the bedroom and literally spend 2 days straight in bed while a majority of your sustenance is the jar of peanut butter on your bedside table, eaten with your finger because REMEMBER HOW ALL THE SILVERWARE IS DIRTY” etc. When it’s literally a huge chore just to get myself to take a fucking bath and do a single load of dishes (not to mention laundry which literally gets left until we’re on our last pair of clean underwear and they’re the ones you hate to wear because they don’t really fit right), it’s really hard to also work on getting a job.

In fact my anxiety was so bad just this morning that a likely perfectly innocuous text from my dad asking how the job hunt was going was enough to send me spiraling into an hours long episode of extreme anxiety.

I’m sure he meant it fine, but I’m sorry if it’s hard to hear the phrase and not picture him lecturing me on how much I need a job and he’s not just saying it to rag on me he wants me to better myself and blahblah FUCKING BLAH I FUCKING KNOW ALREADY SWEET LEFT NUT OF THE ZOMBIE JESUS I FUCKING KNOW.

I know my parents resent me, and I can’t say I blame them. I’m fucking 30 and I can barely get myself to shower and cook a real meal in the same day (let alone week, fucking hell). In a fit of hormonal rage (my mom had a hysterectomy but still has her ovaries, hence she still gets a Hell Mood once a month) my mother not only went “Oh you’re gonna cry now oh look at me I have depression”, but also said “Every dollar we spend helping you is a dollar we don’t have to go on another trip”.

And dad, I haven’t been able to really hear anything he’s ever said to me since he told me I was a burden on everyone’s life and I had no prospects. I am a burden on everyone’s life. I don’t contribute anything really meaningful to society or anyone’s life at all, I don’t even fucking know why I’m here to start with. All I do is cost people money and cause them huge fucking headaches. My mother should have had a goddamn abortion and saved the world the trouble.

Like everything I do for people is not to do something for them and just a bullshit attempt to make myself feel better for being nothing but a terrible fuckup. I should just pack up all my shit and jump in front of a bus.

I’m on fucking housing assistance at fucking 30 years old, with no way to pay my bills. My dad said they’d pay them for the time being and then I would just owe them money but holy shit do you know how much money I owe my fucking parents? I don’t see how I’m ever going to pay that shit. I can’t keep a job to save my fucking life. Even when I try really hard it doesn’t fucking matter.

Anxiety is a chronic condition. I’m going to be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life. If this is how bad I’m going to feel for the rest of my life, I don’t want to fucking be here.

And don’t tell me to reach out to other people for help because that’s all I ever fucking do, and I come across as a HUGE fucking burden. I know other people with anxiety, do they ever come to me for help? Is the exchange ever not when I’ve been sobbing for an hour and I’m dissociating and I need them to help me break out of it? When have I ever been there for a friend who really needed it? I never am. All I ever do is NEED something from people but I’ll be fucking damned if I’ve ever been able to pay it back.

And even if I did get bad enough to have to spend time in a ward or something, that’d just be even further stressing people out. I can’t have that on my fucking conscience.

I need to go because my appointment is in 20 minutes but holy shit am I in a terrible fucking mood today

Short blog about today

Eh, I wanted to talk about stuff but didn’t care to clutter up facebook with it. Let’s see, what did I do today?

I made cold brew coffee. I had the thought this morning while pouring myself a cup of yesterday’s coffee because I’m not super picky about that sort of thing. So it steeped all day then I spent what felt like an eternity waiting for it to go through a coffee filter, at like 10pm.

I cleaned my bathroom today ( I have a really small bathroom but still). I vacuumed my kitchen and did dishes several times. This morning I dropped off a box and a bag of stuff at goodwill.  I also went for a walk to hit up some of the pokestops in town. I also needed a couple things from the dollar store so that was my excuse for leaving the house. Then for dinner I made the best grilled cheese ham sandwich with spicy mustard and pizza cheese.

Idk, I was just proud of myself for actually being productive today.

Well it’s 2017…

And cheeto hitler is in office. That’s not exactly what I came here to write about, as I’d be here a pretty long fucking time if it were.

For the past couple weeks I’ve been staying at my parents’ house. Dad had rotator cuff surgery like 3-4 weeks ago so the plan was to stay for a couple days and help him out.  That was a weekend. On that Wednesday I heard my mom slipped on the ice and hurt her wrist, so that Wednesday I came over. I brought my cat so I wouldn’t have to worry about hurrying back to my apartment. On this past Wednesday she was supposed to see a specialist but it snowed and shit that day so the appt was rescheduled for tomorrow.

I really don’t mind at all doing things for my folks especially when they have two good arms between them both, but I’m ready to be back at my place. I’m stressed out about it though. While I’ve been here I’ve done a lot of things for my parents, doing dishes,  cooking meals (not all of them mind u) helping dad put his shoes on, I drove him to a dr appt. I drove mom somewhere, and went along with her as she drove somewhere to see if she could handle driving… all the while basically putting the job search on hold while I’ve been here.

I’m stressed for two reasons. One reason is the job thing

I gave myself a week off from job hunting before this injury business happened, then I’ve been here doing almost no job hunting for two weeks,  and now that it’s nearly a new week I’m way too stressed to even think about it. I had therapy last week and spoke with my therapist about things.  She agreed with me that there really isn’t a whole lot going on job wise right now,  and when I narrow the search results down to exact location, I go from having dozens of result listings, to having like 6 per city. I’ve applied to several different locations of the same dollar type store, nothing.  Applied to several different locations of the same pizza chain restaurant, nothing. Applied for a similar position to my previous job, nothing. I can’t handle fast food due to my anxiety, I have back  problems and can’t lift very much weight so factory work is out. I really can’t be on my feet all day long without getting to sit down at some point. I can’t apply for any jobs that involve driving because I have an OWI from 2009 on my record, and I believe 12 years have to pass before that gets taken off the record.

I still feel bad though.  No matter what I do or how much I do, it never feels like enough in any way.  Unless I’ve spent every waking moment doing hundreds of job apps, I feel that I’m not doing enough. Even when I’m trying it feels like a lie and that I’m just trying to self justify my laziness and inadequacy.

The other reason I’m stressed is bc this time helping my folks seems to be a preview of the future, but to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t handle doing this 24/7. I haven’t even done dishes at my apartment for weeks, yet multiple times a day I’ve basically been doing my parents’ dishes for 2 weeks. I’ve cooked and baked stuff here, but back at home I can’t remember the last time I cooked a real honest to gods meal.

I’m doing the sort of upkeep at my parents’ house that still needs to be done at my apartment, only now I’m exhausted from doing stuff for my folks. I’m glad to actually be useful for once but god damn it’s exhausting. And then I get super stressed about not having energy enough to do things at my place. I have like 300 bucks in the bank so I’m not in immediate danger, but that’s only because my dad covered my almost 300 dollar utility bill bc I hadn’t gotten a utility bill in the mail for a couple months. Even though the company swears they generated a bill for December, and  I was apparently already behind then.

I’m disappointed in myself because I thought at 30 I’d be able to better support myself. There’s no way I could have stayed at my call center job but I’m starting to feel like I should have stayed despite the crippling anxiety that place gave me (I was literally sobbing before work every single morning and at my cubicle throughout the day).

As it stands I may give myself another week off from serious job hunting so I can acclimate back to my normal apartment life.

As I mentioned  (or didn’t,  I have a bad memory), I’ll be going with mom to her appt tomorrow, and depending on how late we get back I may go back to my apartment tomorrow. Even if it’s lateish. As I said,  I’m happy to do these things for my folks but it’s really time for me to be back in my own place.

Update before the holidays.

It looks like the last entry before this one was in September. Well, since then, I got a job at a nursing home, doing the dishes. And not even a couple weeks ago, I got fired from that job, so I once again find myself without income. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) I had already gotten gifts for those I am exchanging with (just my mom, dad, and my sister, really).

For the first couple weeks the job was hell because the boss lady would never put me officially on the schedule, I always just had to ask her basically at the end of every shift when I was to work again. I was just settling in to that place where I was feeling comfortable with the work, and starting to feel like I could find my niche there.

I had a bug that I missed a day of work for, and was late twice because of, and one of these appointments being the reason I got fired, basically. I couldn’t remember whether I’d told them I’d be late that day or if I just thought of telling them and forgot. But they unceremoniously let me go less than two weeks before Christmas. They didn’t even let me finish that day’s work, and I only had like half an hour to go til the end of the day.

Still, from day one I should have known. One person was expected to do an assload of work with no help. I got bitched at several times.

It just pisses me off because I busted my ass at this job, knowing how important it was for me to keep. And they still let me go. Just kind of makes me feel hopeless, you know? It was probably hard enough to get jobs knowing I’d been fired from one job, now how will it look having been fired from two? It really kind of feels like my life is over. Nothing ever works out, no matter how well it seems to be going. I’m 30, and while I’m watching literally every other person I know my age or younger either being successful at their job (my sister), or getting married/buying a house/having a kid/etc, and what am I doing? Nothing.

I’m doing nothing with my life. I can barely keep up the bare minimum of taking care of myself and my cat, let alone do anything else. My apartment is a mess, I have a shitload of dishes to do, and most days I don’t even have the energy to shower. But the thing is, with the exception of the past week, I’ve been in a much better mood. Even now I’m sure this whole entry is being colored PMS red, since I’m just about done worrying about it for this month, as it were.

More and more I know I’m a burden on people and it would be much easier for everyone if I’d never even begun existing to start with. It’s honestly too late for me to do anything. I can’t really confide in anyone about it either, because they just give me advice that makes me feel even more guilty (even though the advice is probably benign and most likely decent advice).

I still can’t get away from this feeling that I’m never good enough. Nothing I do is ever good enough, because it never is. I work my ass off at a job and thought I was doing pretty well, BAM, fired. This is going to be the rest of my life, isn’t it? Busting ass at a job only to be dumped out on my ass in less than 3 months. Constantly stressed about how the fuck I’m going to pay my bills or my rent (luckily I have housing assistance or I’d be well and truly fucked already).

And then I feel so guilty. Failure is a part of everyone’s life, but I can’t get away from feeling like every failure I have defines me as a person. There ya go, fucked up again, why even try because it always ends up this way type shit.

And then because I’ve made so many goddamn mistakes in my life, I feel that each mistake I make is progressively  more and more important to the point where it feels like every single bad thing that happens on earth is my fault. It feels like everything bad is my fault. And how the fuck can I work on myself in this state of mind?

My sister tries to give me advice and I appreciate it a lot, but I must be insane. I keep thinking I’m growing as a person but I keep fucking up and keep fucking up to the point where I just don’t tell people this shit anymore because staying silent about how truly negative and pessimistic I am about everything is easier than trying to have any hope at all.

Sorry, it’s just that whenever my life is going well, in any aspect, in any way at all, something takes a huge shit all over it. It’s like, what point is it to hope? Everything sucks and we’re going to die and pretty soon fascist cheeto hitler will be the “leader” of the free world.

I’m sure this is just the pms hormones talking because honestly before this week I was feeling okay about things. I’m just so tired of this shit. I thought I was doing okay at my job, so getting fired before christmas was pretty much just the cherry on top of the “go fuck yourself” cake, I guess.

I honestly only sat down to write this because I figured it would help me feel better.

Obviously with the holiday being so close, I’m not about to go out job hunting or to interviews or whatever. However, I’ve been checking indeed every day and favoriting jobs that I plan to apply to once the holiday is over. So that should be okay. I’m also planning to  hardcore tidy up my apartment. I’ve been letting it slide majorly, with exception to my living room.

I just don’t know why I still feel so fucking terrible about this whole job thing. It just feels like another link in the paper chain of letting everyone I know down. I was supposed to start paying my portion of the cell phone bill this month. I was starting to build up my savings, now that’s not gonna happen, and every last cent of what’s in there is going to have to pay my bills until I get a job.

And I’m worried. It took like, 2 months of me applying to like 3-5 places every day to get a job before. What if it takes that long this time? It just doesn’t feel fucking fair that even if someone is working on something diligently, it still takes ages to happen.

And then I feel guilty about not spending every waking moment worrying about this job thing, as if to underestimate the importance of it.

Honestly, every single day I feel guilt. I either feel guilty because I’m nothing but a fuck up who should have been aborted by her mother, or I feel overwhelming guilt about nothing in particular. Just guilt for existing. Because I know I basically ruined my parents’ lives. My mom was only, what, 21 or something when she had me. Poor college kids. Then they had a fucking kid to take care of. And then I proceeded to be a huge headache for them from kindergarten to the present fucking day. It honestly would be better if I just didn’t exist, but I’d never try or do anything to further that feeling along.

What good have I ever really done anyone? I’m just a problem they have to deal with. I always need need need from people, but what can I really offer back to anyone? I’m not a good friend, I’m not good at anything I can make money and support myself doing, so honestly what’s the point?

I’m sure this is all PMS talking. And that’s something else that pisses me off. When these spells end, and they always have, I’m like “the fuck emo shit was I on about?”. But during these spells? During them, they’ll never end and this is how I’m going to feel until I die. Even though I can remember all the other times the spells ended.

Anyway. Honestly the reason I wanted to write this is so I’d feel better. I’ll apply to jobs hardcore after the holiday is over, I’ll tidy up my place little by little, so there’s really no reason for me to fuck up the season worrying about it. My sister gets on the plane back to her home in DC on the 1st of January, I need to enjoy what’s happening now instead of ruining the holiday by worrying that I’ll ruin the holiday.

Here we are.

Last night was odd. I figured I was going to stay up super late, so I thought I’d lay down for a short nap around 5:45 or so. I woke up after 8pm, confused for a moment about what day it was. I got up and played fallout 3 for a couple hours before going to bed for real, but it just threw me off. This happens every time I lay down for a nap and don’t set an alarm.

Anyway. I did some dishes this morning, but there are still some to do. I’m also going to try and get some spot vacuuming done, mainly just in front of the couch where I eat my meals, in the kitchen quick, and mainly directly around the litterbox (my cat is terrible about scattering litter everywhere). I’d like to say I’d get some tidying done in my living room, but if all I do is what I’ve already done, plus a few extra dishes and a little bit of vacuuming, I’ll be okay.

My therapist told me yesterday I need to not be as hard on myself. It’s been a recurring theme the past few months (and probably way longer than that) that I feel like no matter what I do or what work I put in or anything, it’s never enough and it doesn’t matter because life is going to take a dump all over me anyway. She also noted that I either have insanely high expectations of myself, or none at all. Which makes sense. I either have no expectations at all, or my expectations are so high that I bottom out when I can’t meet them. I’m terrified of making mistakes, being wrong. But it is kind of right, lately it seems that literally no matter what I do, I’m disappointed in myself because I didn’t do more.

It kind of pisses me off, truth be told. You mean that whether I spend all day in my underwear on the couch in a cloud of cheeto dust, or walk to the library to put in my 3-5 online apps a day like usual and do chores in the house, I’m still going to feel like shit about myself? I always thought that if I had a productive day I’d feel better about it. Lately it honestly seems like I cannot seem to feel good about anything.

I only have a few more days before I start the new anti depressant so hopefully that helps because feeling like shit literally all the time gets exhausting after a while.

Let’s see. I don’t have any really exciting plans for the rest of the day, beyond what I already talked about. I’ll probably finish up here, walk home, put a load of dishes in the sink, then perhaps do some vacuuming while the dishes soak for a little while.

A rainy day

Well, it was only misting when I walked to the library, but for half the night it was thunderstorming pretty hard. The first half of the night, the cat kept waking me up, sleeping on my pillow, next to my head, next to my feet, etc, and the latter part of the night she spent hiding in the bathroom (which is what she does whenever it rains).

So I’m not running on much sleep here, but I have had some coffee which should do the job for a little while anyway.

I had an interview at the store with the big red bullseye yesterday, which was a 45 minute drive, and even though I left an hour before my interview time I was sweating balls worrying I’d be late.

So I get there, and they’re not prepared for me. They usually have packets they print out to use in an interview (each packet being specific to the individual interviewed) and they didn’t have one printed out for me. I was worried and asked the interviewer if this was the only particular store location in town, which it was. Which set my mind at ease a little, but it was still like, really, is everybody this unprepared? They had a starbucks inside said store, so I got my first PSL of the year (yes I’m a basic bitch, no I don’t give a shit), and went to Michaels to browse a little. I didn’t bring much cash on me but I’ll be damned if I drive 45 minutes to an interview and then afterwards turn right back around and go home without doing anything else.

Then I had my psych appointment (the dude that prescribes shit, sue me if I can’t remember what they’re called), and they’re going to increase my anti anxiety med, and take me off my current anti depressant and try out another one.

I have my regular therapy appointment today. I am getting more stressed about finances the longer I go on not having a job. I’m not yet in the danger zone so to speak, but I’m getting closer to it than I’d like. Hence the library, doing like 6 online applications, several at a time.

I just get overwhelmed because first off, I’m looking for jobs 45 minutes away because I live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere IA. Then, I start thinking about all the shit I’d have to do if I actually got a job there. For one, I’m sure I’d have to reapply for HUD there, and I’m not sure how that works when I’m currently on it in another county, then I’d actually have to find and move into a HUD approved apartment, and one that allows pets, at that. And moving all my shit all over again, after I just moved here a year ago.

It’s a lot to think about when lately I barely have the energy to shower and get dressed in the morning, let alone do anything else. I’ve needed to vacuum in my apartment for ages, I need to do dishes, I need to do laundry…when I think about all the shit I need to do, I shut down and do nothing because there’s so much to do and I have zero motivation to do it.

Now I’m flirting with the same anxiety problem I had when I was working that stupid telemarketing job, only now I’m not making any fucking money.
But I couldn’t continue to work there either, with all the stress it was causing me.

I don’t know. I feel a little like I’m adrift in an uncertainSEA

Ugh sorry I had to, I hate myself for that. LOL.

Honestly though, I’m not sure of anything anymore. I’m not sure what I want to do, or where I belong, or anything.

Hopefully the change in medication helps, because despite being on two different ones I’m pretty much constantly stressed out to some degree, whether I have a reason to be or not. It’s honestly even an undercurrent when I’m enjoying myself. I’m never really fully enjoying myself because I’m too busy worrying about my bullshit life. And all the current events bullshit going on in the world. I feel like I’m being buried. It’s like I can’t ever turn it off. I pretty much only get to sleep at night because I put on guided meditations on youtube. Or I take 2 hour long afternoon naps, with said guided meditations.

And on top of all this, all the plethora of jobs I’m applying for, I’m not sure I can even handle them, at all. I honestly get queasy just at the thought of working in the kitchen of a hospital, or a server at a pizza joint, or any other job that gives me a modicum of responsibility. Once I get there, they’ll see how I pretty much need to be guided all day long for fear of doing something “wrong” and getting in trouble/fired for it. They’ll see how my applications and personality assessments via online apps and etc feel like pure, unadulterated bullshit.

Whenever I encounter strangers at a workplace my heart is in my mouth and I forget how to talk, then I end up babbling out some retarded bullshit.

If anything has for sure gotten worse (and multiple things have) it’s that I no longer have any faith in my own personal opinions or views on myself, or some other things. I feel like I’m constantly wrong about everything, or that someone else will point out how wrong I am, showing to the world just how big of an idiot I am and how everything I say is bullshit.

I don’t want to insult anyone who has been through something seriously traumatic, but I feel like I have some of the characteristics of PTSD.  I read somewhere that when you have ptsd, your brain still thinks you’re in that same high stress environment and can’t adjust after said high stress situation is over.

Now like I said, I don’t want to insult like, combat veterans or anything.

While I haven’t been in any life threatening situations, I have been in situations where shit was falling apart all around me and I was powerless to do anything.

I know how easy it is to diagnose oneself in the webMD age, so like I said, I don’t want to insult anybody. Just, a lot of it makes sense.

Late in 2014, I was left by two different roommates to cover an almost 400 dollar rent all on my own. I was unemployed for a short time due to store closure, had a job for a couple months, then got fired from that job.

One of said roommates left me with her 3 cats because her fiance (now husband, god help us all) was allergic to cats. Cats all had fleas, we only had one litterbox, said roommate would never bring by a bag of food until I told her we were literally out, etc. Never helped buy litter. I hadn’t signed a lease but I essentially got kicked out and forced to move back in with my parents. I went from being happy it was my birthday, to 5 days later (only 5) I woke up at my parents’ house. Having had NO IDEA on my birthday that 5 days later I’d be homeless and being kicked out. I had to stuff what I could fit into my car, and put everything else into a storage unit. There’s shit I left at that house that I’ll never get back (including a Star Wars poster I’d had since I was like, literally 12 years old).

Like, all of that was not only bullshit happening to me, but my own poor decisions. Never the less, I don’t feel like I’ve ever really recovered from that. Even before I was so distressed with my call center job, I was constantly worried that I’d get fired and sink back into a shitty situation like that, despite my parents’ constant reassurance that there were so many factors that were different this time around.

And that’s probably part of what keeps me so on edge now. I’m terrified of being back in that situation. My parents would never let me go homeless, but they would sure as shit be extremely pissed off if I had to move back in with them. They’d blame it on me not doing what they said to do, because apparently that’s the root of most of my past problems.

My parents are good people but do not understand the bulk of my mental illness, and do not understand that when I say I “can’t” do a job, I’m not saying “I don’t WANT to do that job” I’m saying I physically and mentally CANNOT DO that job. I can’t work fast food, and just picturing myself working fast food can all but trigger a mild anxiety attack.

I’m out of shape, with a bad back, so I can’t lift much weight, and repetitive bending/standing hurts. I have shitty knees as well (though with my regular-ish walks they feel better than they used to).

I don’t know. I just know that my constant worrying about even benign things is severely impacting my ability to live a normal life.

I almost never draw anymore, I almost never have the attention span to read (or even watch movies) anymore, pretty much all I have the attention span for is video games. I’m back to needing to be constantly distracted or I’ll literally just sit there, a ball of anxiety, over nothing in particular. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I mean, I can almost understand if there’s something for me to actually be anxious about, but anymore it seems I don’t even need a reason. Monday night upon returning to my apartment from spending the holiday at my parents’, I had a legit anxiety attack. I was sitting there doing nothing, sobbing like it was the end of the world. And even in the middle of sitting there, gasping for breath in between sobs, I had no idea what I was even upset about.

And it’s like, even doing productive things that you think would make you feel better because you’re DOING something and not just sitting around fiddling with your junk don’t help. I could spend all damn day doing nothing but productive things, and at the end of the day, I’d still think I hadn’t done enough, and I’d still feel anxious for no fucking reason.

It’s kind of paralyzing at this point.

Anyway. Like I said (or did I, I can’t remember) I have my normal therapy appointment today at 1, which I’m honestly glad about. I know that I must be making progress, but I can’t get away from the idea that no matter what I do, it’s not enough. No matter what I do or how much I do, I’m always going to get shit on and I’m going to be powerless to stop it. I feel pretty helpless in some respects. Because it’s just seemed like for the last couple years, no matter what I do, awful shit happens to me in some form or another.

And that’s no attitude to have for someone who’s literally going to turn 30 in a month. I thought by this age I’d have shit all figured out but if anything it feels like I know less than before.

Anyway, after my appointment at 1, I’m going to drive to wally world and return a clothing item that didn’t fit, and do a big grocery run since my food stamp card reloaded this morning. And that’ll be kind of fun.

I don’t know. I just miss being in a good mood.