helplessly Strong

she sits in a coffee shop, working on the table-top campaign that she was going to be running in a few weeks.  she was tired, sore, and incredibly hungry.  she wanted so terribly to eat something, nigh anything.  but she didn’t.  she stayed strong and Controlled her body.  she was still in charge.

then why did she feel so weak? why was she so helpless in this situation?

and it wasn’t even a drastic or dangerous situation.  it was just an awkward social gathering.

it was the NaNo Twin Cities group.  they were meeting in person officially for the first time since November.  she was happy to be around writers again.  she was so happy, she brought along one of her best friends who is also categorized as a writer in her head.  but may she was mistaken.

because there he sits, bored and uninterested.

she secretly texts an apology to him for dragging him along.  he responds as expected — shrugging it off kindly.  she still regrets, on his behalf, extending the invite.

he says he would later explain why it wasn’t a problem at all.  she is hesitant to believe he will indeed tell her the full truth.  but what else can she do?

so she waits.  she waits until this is all over with and she could just move on with life.

this stupid, horrid life that she doesn’t want anyway.

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a non-typical post about Panic Attacks

so first, let’s understand a typical panic attack:

“a sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety.”  that’s the general definition.  when people think of “panic attacks”, they see Monk freaking out.  how cute, right?

but real panic attacks are more than just that.

and then there are the atypical panic attacks.  the ones that happen in the mind and never manifest outside the body.  I just had one.  I was sitting here, trying to coordinate my route and plans at home.  and inside my Mind, I lost my damn Shit.  externally, no one would have seen anything; I seemed fine.  I was in control of all my motors, and I wasn’t babbling some incoherent shit.  but inside of my head, LIGHTS WERE GOING OFF THAT SET OFF ADDITIONAL ALARMS AND EVERYTHING WAS SHUTTING DOWN AND I CAN’T DO THIS!!

and then, after several minutes, it stopped.  and now …. now that I am ready to write about it, I can’t.  so there goes that fucking useful as shit entry…….

but does it really?

so that post about every little thing mattering….. ugh. foot in mouth.

I’m walking the up and down the stairwell in my apartment complex because I can’t bring myself to go to the gym. I am weak and tired; and my current issue is my shame for being weak and tired.

I couldn’t even get into gym clothes without just bawling. so Brian told me to walk around the complex in whatever I am in (work clothes). better than not moving at all, right?

I can’t bring myself to go out of the stairwell and into the hallway. what if there’s a person? I can’t be around people right now.

so I’m hiding in the stairwell. but I’m walking. up, up, down, down. up, up, down, down.

better than nothing, right? every little bit matters?

obligatory pre-holiday post

holidays are hard for many people, even the not Crazy ones.  but we Nutters, it’s usually worse.  many of us survive because of patterns and systems we’ve created and adapted that ensure we take our medications, see our doctors, refrain from stabbing people, etc.  holidays defenestrate* all sense of stability.  also, you’re around your family a lot.  and Crazy is very genetic.  so you’re then combining Crazies, Nutters, Batshitters, and all other types of insanity.

here’s the plans for my personal holiday experiences:  Brian, Zero, and I fly out of Minnesota Friday afternoon.  (yes, Zero is flying with us.  we’re doping him up, first.)  Friday night, his dad’s side of the family will be picking us up from the airport.  at some point, my father will collect Zero, the latter staying at my parents’ the whole time.  Friday and Saturday nights, Brian and I will sleep at his dad’s in the spare bedroom; Sunday and Monday nights, we’ll be at my parents’ on their fold-out couch in the living room.  Saturday is Christmas with his dad’s side of the family; Sunday, it’s with his mother’s.  Monday morning is Christmas with my family; Monday night, a select few friends are invited to a shindig.  then we dope up Zero again in the wee hours of Tuesday morning while my parents take us back to the airport.  Wednesday, I took off work as well, to recoup.

so.  it’s going to be a busy few days for us.  so how do I plan on minimizing the stabbing of loved ones and “other” ones?  as follows:

  1. continue taking my medications as per their schedule: morning, as soon as I wake; afternoon, when I have lunch; night, a few hours before bed.
  2. if I feel my Crazies setting in or my Anxiety about to go off, Brian and I will go take a walk outside.
  3. I have permission to leave a situation that makes me uncomfortable or unhappy, even if it involves my family.
  4. I don’t have to pretend to be somebody I’m not — Brian’s family is Safe; my family knows me; my friends who are invited Mon night are Safe.
  5. I will try to journal at least a little each day.  this will force me to take some time away from everyone to breathe and, in some cases, even reflect.  said entries may not be posted to the public; but I will at least write.

I think if I can keep to the above, things should go well enough.  ::crosses fingers::  I’m hoping so, at least.

 

*defenestration is my favourite word.  it is the act of throwing something or someone out a window — de-, of out; and fenestra, Latin for window.  I love it!  😀  arguments exist about defenestrate itself being a word; as a descriptive linguist, I support that it is.

being social is exhausting

last night was fun, albeit exhausting.  it was great to hang out, and the food my friend and I cooked was delicious.  but being around people, having to hold a conversation that lasts more than thirty minutes – I just have so much more trouble with it now than I used to.  at least in the past, I would normally be able to keep rolling until the other person was done.  but the mix of my medication and the social activity just wore me the hell out.

I don’t know how to ask people to leave.  I never really do it; I just wait until they are ready – ever the host.  and it wouldn’t have been a I-don’t-want-to-be-in-your-company-anymore goodbye, or a I’m-not-enjoying-myself farewell; rather, it was just a I-can-hardly-keep-my-eyes-open-and-I’m-socially-drained apology.

in other news, I went to a kink munch last weekend.  I didn’t really make any friends at that precise location, but I have a better idea of what to expect at the next one.  but more importantly, I have an idea of how their groups are organized up here.  and I did make a few contacts, so that’s good.

it’s slow coming, this whole “make friends” thing.  and I know what part of the issue is: I want a group of friends, not one or two close friends.  I want a bunch of people with whom I don’t have to be super close.  I like entertaining a large group of people, then focusing on each person for a few moments, making them feel special and like an individual, then moving on to the next person.  I don’t like the constant conversation that I would have to have with a single person.

the aforementioned friend that I hung out with last night, she noted how in the south, we just talk up anyone in the grocery store, in a movie line, etc.  no matter who you are or where you’re at, it’s totally acceptable to just chat.  that’s the kind of interaction II like – totally surficial and shallow.  that’s not to suggest I don’t like deep conversations; it’s just that those exhaust the living hell outta me.  I can’t do those for too long or too often, and I really don’t want to do them with most folks anyway.  that “how’s the weather” talk?  that can be done with anyone, and it can be ended abruptly and no one cares.

that’s why I love large groups.  I can randomly include a new person and just seem like I’m being nice and inclusive, whereas I’m actually hoping for a topic change, or for the new person to replace my spot in the conversation.

but I don’t know how to find that here.  because everyone’s so reclusive and judgmental.  how do I find the distant, group-like friendships that most people have and would rather trade-in for something close and meaningful?  I want that distance, that safety.  I don’t want a new best friend; I like the ones I have back in Louisiana.  and if I ever need a heart-to-heart, I know I can call, text, or even Skype them.  what I want is someone who will do things, go places, participate in activities that minimize the need for deep communication between us.

and I thought that’s what I’d be able to easily find up here.  but it’s not.  because it’s a different culture.

that’s what my culture shock is – how no one acknowledges one another in the north.  that’s what I miss the most about the south; that’s what makes me homesick.

so there it is: I got the culture shock I told Brian I wanted.  and I’m not sure what my stance on it is – regret, or fulfillment.

at what Level in Hell is *accidental* deception…?

perspectives. things can be radically different with even just a slight alter in paradigm, or even from a tiny change of information held.  small nuggets of knowledge, observations, or experiences can cause radical shifts if opinions.

I have to be more cryptic than usual (woah boy!) out of respect to the other party involved. but I feel guilty. I feel like I’ve been accidentally deceptive. I know I haven’t been, but I still feel like I have. and we all know what great of friends Guilt and I are.

as some of you know, money has been really tight these last few months. we expected me to be unemployed, at most, for three months.  but here it is, six months later, and I am only just now acquiring a regular income.  this means we’ve been living on a tight budget recently. but that does not mean we are impoverish.

prior to this occupational dry spell, Brian and I had comfortable lives. we had food on our plates, beds under our heads, and chairs under our butts — all while being able to afford to occasional monetary splurge or adventure; also concurrent with ensuring our past debts were being lessened, and that I acquired the necessary doctor visits and medications to ensure I stayed alive and (all things considered) well.

but then we had our income almost literally halved. so the month-to-month, week-to-week, and even day-to-day expenses were nigh destroyed. I still had my badass couch and television, Brian still had his tv and computer, and we had all of our ridiculous toys and games and books — because it was all already paid off.

what we didn’t have or had to struggle to afford was food for the week, gas in the car for the trips to work, any kind of medical expenses (docs, meds, even my chiropractic care had to be dissolved). everything we already worked for, we of course had no problem keeping. it was stuff we needed to acquire in the present or future that we couldn’t manage — because we didn’t have the income.

and really, we are still struggling. tmrw, I should be getting my second paycheck since moving our now-frozen asses up here, over six months ago. all savings are gone (including the OMG-WE-LITERALLY-MAY-STARVE $100 bill from my Dad he gave me over a decade ago). and throughout all this, we (this includes Zero) still need to eat.

but when you come to our home, it doesn’t look like there were a few weeks when literally every meal was the 10- to 20-cent packs of ramen (10-cent in LA, 20-cent in MN — because metropolises).

——

so what is the point of all this?

well, I have had the opportunity to become very good friendly acquaintances with an adult member of a family up here. releasing as little info as possible: said family is moving into a smaller living space, and money has become very tight for it. said family has multiple times offered to give us food and such. I was always reluctant to accept. but when said family disclosed to me their living accommodations changed, we saw an opportunity for “Team Ow to get more” and for “moving family to have/move less”.

however, the insecurity within me fears that said family may see me as being two-faced or deceptive. as in, “how could this couple not afford food when they can afford a living space and elements as spacious and robust as this?”

in a futile attempt to disillusion any concept this family unit had of our living area, I believe I may have accidentally offended them — as foolishly as always, “open foot, insert mouth”, as the saying is twisted.

and now, I may have lost a potential Friend up here. :/

TLDR:
I helped a small family to move.
I got paranoid of their perceptions of me.
I made things worse by trying to make them better.
I probably have thus acquired an enemy rather than a friend.

—-

Goal utterly Failed