Tag Archives: stress

On setting goals–

Do people actually think about what their life is going to be like? 5 years from now? 10? Do people actually make life plans and set goals? I’ve heard this all my life and yet I’ve failed to make any plans at all. I have zero expectations, except for maybe a few bad expectations. Planning is such a farce to me. I feel so unsupported and so incapable.

I just finished talking with my mom on the phone. We talk often enough, but every few months I feel so synonymously overwhelmed and underwhelmed with my life that I need to vent to her. Honestly? Trying to vent to her is just self-sabotaging, but I really have no one else.

Today’s stressor: Money. Finances. Moolah. And how I have none of it.

It all started 4 years ago. I think that I had maybe anticipated having high expectations moving to the city to attend post-secondary, but I was just going through the motions. You graduate high school, you take a year off to “find yourself”. You go to university, you meets someone special, you graduate, you get a real job, you get married, you make real money, you have a real life. I just couldn’t follow through. I wasn’t there yet. I’m not there now. And between being gay and dropping out of university, I’ve become my parent’s number 1 disappointment in life. They’ll never admit it to my face (actually that’s a lie, they’ve basically already admitted it in so many words), but I am disappointing. Even to myself.

They seem to think it’s appropriate to always, always respond to my fears about finances with an unsympathetic head tilt and a “well, you know what you have to do”. *Cough, cough* *wink, wink* *nudge, nudge* SCHOOL.

I can’t go back to school. Not now, maybe not ever. I can’t make myself pick a career or pick some courses out of a hat and just go for it. My heart will never be in it.

I tried communicating that to my mom on the phone today, and it didn’t work. It never does. I tried telling her that it’s hard for me to predict what my life will look like in 10 years, because my heart truly isn’t even invested in myself. I told her that it’s easiest for me to think I won’t be around in 10 years, because when I try to imagine what life would be like, I’m entirely disappointed.

All she had to say to me was that I’m just having a bad day and then asked if I watched last night’s episode of Big Brother.

She always does that, changes the subject. I try and confront her about it, tell her that I feel unloved and unsupported, and she says that I’ve ranted and there’s nothing else she can do about it. Then she swiftly changes the subject again before I can engage her at all. I mean yea, maybe she’s vastly under-equipped for my state of mind these past few years, but the fact that there’s just such a huge wall between my feelings and her is so utterly despairing to me. I feel like I have nobody. I feel like of all the people in the world, my own mother, I shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of my feelings or embarrassed that she may not take them seriously.

Now I try and put on a brave face for a few months until I need to release, only to have my feelings rejected all over again.

I’m tired of feeling like all I have to offer people are blank stares and empty smiles and remedial laughter. I’m tired of going unnoticed for who I actually am and how I actually feel.   I’m tired of people expecting me to be somebody in their lives in 10 years, in any capacity, when I already feel like I’m so immeasurably separate. I don’t want to be here in 10 years. I’ve made my first life plan.

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Taking care of anything but me.

It’s been about 4 months since my cat began to struggle with her mystery illness.  She and her sister turned 2 years old last week, which at one point I was honestly fearing wouldn’t happen, and things remain as mysterious as ever.

I remember before she fell ill, I was the most upset I’ve ever been in my life.  I was just in such a dark place, and when she suddenly became my priority, before even myself, I was struggling a lot.  I found myself resenting her, and myself, and my life.  Nothing was working out for me, and honestly I still feel as though nothing is.

But putting her first in my life has helped me in a few ways.  I feel as though the final nail has been hammered into the coffin that is my ex.  I’ve hardly thought of him, and when I do, it’s never really a big deal.  I can play my music, and the songs that reminded me of my sorrow regarding the issue aren’t so sorrowful anymore.  They are my songs again.  And I find myself yearning for something better.  I don’t want to succumb to this nothingness anymore.  But I just feel so helpless.

I struggle a lot with my identity.  I don’t know who I am and I feel as though I have nothing to offer.  I don’t hang out with friends because I don’t have any.  And I don’t have any because I think to myself, “what can I do to be an interesting and good friend?”

There isn’t a lot.

Even before my cat got sick, I would go to work, hate my life, come home, take a long nap, hate my life, mope and get angry at anyone who gave me the time of day, then went to bed.  And now that I want something more, I still hate my work, I still am not fond of my life (though I try!), and I just feel stuck as a caretaker right now.

I’ve never had a very durable sense of responsibility.  I’m exhausted caring for my cat.  I am emotionally and physically drained.  I have to feed her so many times a day, and each feeding is a trial.  After I finally see the last mouthful go down, I feel so much relief and yet so much anxiety.  It’s only a matter of hours before the next meal, or pill, or medication.  I have to sleep or relax or calm my nerves somehow.  I don’t have time for people or friendship or myself.  I just need to be completely alone.  I am very high-stress, and for her sake I have to try so hard not to show her how much she’s hurting me.  I can’t have an anxiety attack.  Last time I thought it was acceptable to lose my emotions in front of her, I paid for it by seeing her go through an anxiety attack herself.  Screaming, hissing, immense physical discomfort.  I just need to stay calm and she will too….

Sometimes I try and think about what my life might look like when and if I ever get her issues sorted out.  It’s hard to picture.  It’s not like I did a whole lot with my life before she got sick.  But I try and contemplate what I can do differently.  How I can work on my perception of what I have and what I really need.  And it all just feels… endless.

I don’t think I’m suicidal.  I don’t really have those kinds of thoughts very often, and when I do, they’re pretty easy to brush off.  I think it’s just my subconscious self being as dramatic as my physical self.  I do think I am incredibly lost though.

I’m sitting here just waiting.  Waiting for my sick cat to die.  Waiting for my healthy cat to die.  Waiting for myself to die.  It’s going to come.  And I’m going to wait patiently for it to come on it’s own terms on all three counts.  But it just feels like there’s nothing else going on.

Sometimes I try and think about dating again to have a chance at passing the time with a human being.  I’m certainly not hung up on my ex anymore.  So why not try?  I am definitely still pretty damaged, is why.  The thought of me being somebody’s “person” actually makes me uncomfortable.  I think about who I am and what I do with my time, and I just cant imagine the kind of person who would go out of there way to spend the rest of their life with me.

I just don’t have a single thing to offer.

I mean, right now I’m actually okay with being alone anyways.  But sometimes I just wish I had someone else to share my burden with.  As in share my cat with.  Just someone to take turns with feeding her so I can space apart my anxiety a little.  Someone to come to the emergency vet with me and keep me company so I don’t fall asleep waiting in the exam room.  Someone to be the strong one so I can just… cry.

I just want to cry.

SAD

It was 12 o’clock in the morning.  I didn’t have to get up early for work today, so I felt like staying up a little later and watching a movie.  I’ve yet to set up Netflix on my Wii U, and my computer is a piece of garbage when it comes to loading Netflix videos, so I settled for youtube to see what I could find.  I ended up coming across a one hour documentary on Social Anxiety Disorder.

It wasn’t a life changing affair, by any means.  I’ve heard of it before, and was more or less aware of the inhibitions surrounding the disorder.  But I’d never really considered whether or not I have it.

In all honesty, I really don’t believe I do.  I am an extraordinarily adaptable person in social settings, and I’m kicking ass at Starbucks right now with positive customer service feedback, not to mention the feedback from my boss.  And, lets face it, to work at Starbucks you have to be a bit of a social butterfly!

But where I’m adaptable under social situations, I also seem to be adaptable in my ability to actually be social.  When I leave that store, and approach my apartment, something changes in me.  Plans I’d considered with friends and co-workers become obsolete.  Confidence dissolves.  Smile fades.

I hide.

Every day I sit in my apartment and ignore texts and phone calls.  I blow off friends and I stress about my life and everything that is wrong with it right now.  I know that I am sad, but do I have SAD?

My mother thinks I need to talk to a therapist.  She thinks I’m depressed.  She offers to pay for anything that would need to be paid for, but I just don’t want to.  I don’t want to rely on pills to be happy.  And even more so, I don’t want to leave the comfort of my apartment to navigate out into the city and try and find where I need to go–something I’ve found to be extremely stressful for me.  And no, I don’t have agoraphobia either.  Once someone finally manages to dissuade me from my dwelling, I happen to love going out and seeing new places… with someone.

Maybe this just extends from my fear of being alone.  Maybe I don’t want people to see that I am all alone.  Or maybe not.  I honestly don’t know.  All I know is that I really have a problem with who I am, and as much as I want a man to accept me for me, I even more so want to accept myself.