I wish I could say that I feel alone without fearing people jumping all over me for it. I am alone. I may have friends, but they’re not up when I get home from work. I don’t have people to talk to. I don’t have someone I can call in the middle of the night. People are busy. People don’t have things in common with me. Unfortunately, I don’t really have things to talk about with my friends. I don’t have children to talk about. I don’t have a husband/boyfriend/fiance to talk about. I don’t have a career. Most of the time I feel like a failure and/or a disappointment.

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Not long after I finally broke up with Tom, he told me basically that his life was over.  He’d never find someone  to love and he’d spend all his life working.  Really, I wanted to smack him.  I knew he was basically full of it.  He wasn’t the one with a mental disorder that most people, especially men, didn’t understand.  He didn’t have something wrong with him that half the world didn’t even accept as being real.  He wasn’t the one who had mutual friends of ours mad at him for breaking the relationship.  He wasn’t the one who was now broke, who had had another guy come along and take all he could get for as long as he could get.  He hadn’t just watched someone become an ex and be better off when they were when the relationship started while he was worse off.  No that was all me.

Now I’ve found out via Facebook that he’s dating someone new.  He’ll be with her until she breaks off the relationship because he never will no matter how bad things are.  He never has broken up with anyone.   I resent the fact that he was so much better off when we broke and I will be paying for it for years and now he has someone new, while I sitting knowing that no one is going to ever want me.  No one will put up with the difficulties.  It will be about three years before I’m out of debt and I’m not going to date someone before that.  It ends up being to damn expensive.  Maybe if I was happy or joyful or content, but I’m not.  I live on a roller coaster that I wish I could get off but don’t think I ever will.  I live with pain that I am told has no cause but oftentimes limits what I can and cannot do.  I have to learn how to live with it and I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

I haven’t been posting because I’ve been scared.  I don’t have a lot of contact with people in the first place and I’m afraid anything I say will irritate at the least one or more of my friends.  I’m scared, I’m alone, and since lowering the med my depression is getting worse.  No more hot flashes and I no longer feel like I’m dying at work most of the time, but I spend more time wanting to cry.  Just looking at my top posts on my news feed on Facebook was depressing.  So many of them were about my friends and their families and lives.  They all seem to have something going on – some reason to keep going on while I’m wondering why I keep going.  Go to work to pay the bills for expenses incurred I’ll never be reimbursed for then come home, play FarmVille & Mousehunt, and go to sleep.  I’ve read no blogs that aren’t sports blogs for quite a while now.  I haven’t seen anyone all year (other than my parents) and each week it gets harder. I do not want to bring people down and I also know people don’t want to be around someone who feels depressed.  Not to mention that people always want a reason. Even my father who has seen me deal with depression for over 10 years now wants reasons why I’m depressed.  It doesn’t always work that way!  Sometimes (a lot of the time these days) I just feel down then things come along that make the downness worse.  I don’t tend to tell people what those things are because people take it the wrong way.  They seem to think that because I’m down and jealous that I don’t want them to be happy, do things, have lives, or hear about it, which isn’t true.  People don’t understand why it hurts and if I try to explain I’m just wrong.  I get sick of arguing.    Right now I do not have hope. I do not have a great future in store.  I do not see any way in which God could possibly use me.  Once my parents are gone I will not have anyone close to me.  And don’t suggest either of my sisters – I haven’t heard from them in months and I know I won’t hear from D until my birthday unless we happen to run into each other at Mom’s or she needs something from me.  The only thing I can do is type and complain.  I’m doing both those things rather well at times.  Oh yeah, and read.  If I’m reading a book (let’s specify a fictional story) then I’m not feeling or thinking things.  I have very little use or purpose and certainly nothing that someone else couldn’t do, some even a bit better.  I get up and go to work every day because I have to. I have no other choice and I have no reason not to.  *shrug*  My dad was telling me the other day that I shouldn’t be down because I don’t know what might be around the corner.  The last 2 corners I took left me riddled with debt because I was too generous and in some cases badly used.  I guess I should be happy that I have this job which makes it so that I can afford to pay my bills but it’s hard when people don’t want to talk to you but you see them talking to other people on the floor and when you’re cleaning off your car with weak wrists then driving home for over an hour on badly treated roads.  At least I like what I do and get to actually use my problem solving skills – when I’m not grumbling about stupid doctors & their staffs, patients, and fellow employees.

by LiveJournal user xbelladollx

I know I haven’t been around. I’ve been feeling quite ill for last quarter last year and all this year so far.  It may be the medication that I raised just before I started feeling ill, so I’m stepping back down.  I really hope this does it. My doctor said she had another patient who had similar reaction to the same medication.  It’s not going to be easy – it’s my depression medication.  Not only may my depression increase, but I’ll be paranoid about it and may even withdraw even more, if that’s possible.  You have no idea how afraid I am of being condemned and/or hated.

Some of my friends have been talking about spousal abuse – they both went through it and got out.  They just did a post and someone made a nasty comment and there is a good chance it’s someone who I feel got to them through me.  I’d written a long, drawn out blog post (because do I do any other kind?) about what I thought I had gone through but haven’t had the courage to post it.  I have a pretty good idea that I came close to getting into the same situation as they did, but there were 2 different things – one is that I got out before it got violent and two that getting into it and staying in it so long was my own stupid fault.  I wrote about that situation and some other things that were mixed up in it – but I haven’t posted it.  It’s sitting in a file on my desktop and has for days.  I don’t know if I can or should post it.  I don’t think I could take any more condemnation than I already put on myself and I’m afraid that people would hate and scorn me and I’d lose what little I do have.  I can’t really see how anyone could have anything other than contempt for me upon reading it so it stays unposted.  I also don’t think people would believe me.  I’ve told parts of it to some different people and they didn’t.  I was weak and stupid and I am very afraid to reveal that anyone.  Although, I’m really not sure anyone could hate me, be ashamed of me, or look down on me any more than I do.  I don’t really want to find out.  I don’t know if I ever will.  I’m also concerned because I have a feeling that if certain people read parts of it they would be hurt and/or be angry with me.  I’m really not sure I could take that. *shrug* I might do it anyways.

By Livejournal user italic of Bouncys!

I don’t know what to do anymore.  There are moments when I hate my life, but most of the time I just get no pleasure from it.  I know we’re not put on this earth to have fun, but sometimes I wish I could have more of it.  I’m plodding through life.  I go to work and I go grocery shopping.  I get gas and take my car to the shop.  Occasionally, I see my father.  I work to pay the bills. I work OT to pay the bills.  I work to put gas in the car so I can get to work.  I come home, play Facebook games and read about other people’s lives on Livejournal and their blogs.  I request blinkies and such because they can actually make me smile.  On the weekends I spend most of my time reading which is the same as hiding from my life.  *shrug*  Why wouldn’t I want to?  The people around are either busy or don’t talk to me.  Goodness, if I didn’t have work related questions I could the entire day from the moment I leave the house until the minute I wake up the next morning and go downstairs without talking to anyone.  And I’m not exaggerating.  I talk more on weekends to my Mom, which is good.  That wasn’t the case in the last week, but I’m not sure in that case it was worth it.  I ended up more aggravated, but that was due to the person I was talking to.  And even then it was only after work.  I guess I’m too picky.

Despite getting slammed (for me) with offers this month, romance is not something I’m looking for nor is it something I even expect anymore.  Going to weddings, no matter how much I love or like the people involved is awesome, but always a little bit hard.  Jim is one of my favorite people – he always has been ever since The Beave.  I truly regret not getting to see him recently – it’s been way too long.  Stephany is awesome and I’m thrilled that they’re together and happy.   The wedding was beautiful. Stephany was beautiful.  It was great to see Jim doing one of those dances (thanks for that Stephany!).  But still – Jim was my last single RL friend.  Oh, I know the Knitting Mama doesn’t have someone right now, but that’s not exactly what I meant.  *shrug*  She’ll find someone.  She’s a wonderful woman and a wonderful mom.  I don’t think I know anyone who cares more or loves more.  It will be a struggle, I’m sure, but it will happen in the end.  I highly doubt it’s going to happen to me.

I’m not normal.  Leaving aside the whole depression complication, I’m just weird.  I love to read sci fi and fantasy.  I love Star Trek: TNG and NCIS.  I hate the majority of the reality TV shows.  I love Steeler football but have no desire to go to a game.  I love Pirates baseball and love going to the games.  I’m very literal – too literal according to my mother.  I don’t know how to do small talk.  I’m not comfortable in large groups.  Okay, certain types  of large groups.  Baseball games yes, parties no.  I find word usage funny and a lot of times people don’t get it.  It tends to lose something when you have to explain it.  I have a schedule that most people don’t follow.  I like weather disaster movies that most people think are cheesy (Twister, Volcano, Dante’s Peak, etc.).  I like spice scented and apple scented candles.  It doesn’t help that I’m overweight and not all that pretty.  I watch “Say Yes to the Dress”, “4 Weddings”, read romance novels, watch my married and dating friends’ lives on Facebook and in journals and I wish.  I do wish.  But I don’t see it happening.  Not only do I have all the things listed above, but I’m not used to romantic situations and I’m scared.  The last two I thought were serious.  I ended up with nothing at the end of both.  In fact, I had to end the last one even though he was unhappy in the relationship.  Now I don’t really talk to him because I know he has a tendency to hold on.  The one before – well, I heard he moved out of state.  Despite that, I thought I saw him the other day and I was almost terrified.  Not to mention that dating is too expensive.  Don’t try to tell me it isn’t.  I wouldn’t have to do OT if it wasn’t.

So I will go back to my unsatisfying life and hope that some day I will find people that I fit in with and who want me around and have the time and inclination to do things with me but doubting that I ever will.  I’m in the next thing to complete isolation here and it seems no matter how much I try it doesn’t change.  I’m not about to become someone who badgers people to get them to make and carry through with plans with me.  I’m not going to beg.  Fear will keep me from large groups.  Nothing will change because I don’t know how to change it and I will go on being not happy but not suicidal.  Just hoping that life won’t go on too long because, as my mother likes to tell me, I have no one to take care of me when I’m old.

Someone on Facebook made a comment about friendship and it’s got me thinking about the subject.  What makes a friend?

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I try not to get down and depressed.  It’s a lot easier these days with my medications.  I try not to think about the things I know worry me.  Today, well really, this past week, one of them keeps haunting me.  I’ve been trying to catch up on Facebook.  Working 12.5 hour days with 45 minute commutes makes it hard to keep up.  I have some people whose profiles I check daily (yeah that’s me – the stalker) and I always look at my top news, but I no longer read every post every day.  I always come home to 300+ new posts.  I do need to sleep sometime people!  Anyways, I’ve been checking up on people’s profiles and pictures.  Most of my friends have families – kids, fiances, husbands, etc.  Some of them I’ve seen get married (or have seen the pictures) and watched their kids grow (in pictures if not in person).  I can imagine their futures, to some extent.  *shrug*  I’m not trying to say I know what’s going to happen or that I’m detailed or anything.  I’m not that stalkerish!

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I never know what to say when I reach this point.  What I go through I’m not really sure anyone can understand.  Last weekend I was totally depressed, lonely, feeling unloved, unwanted, and feeling completely overwhelmed.  All week I was crying when I went to bed.  I was defensive, irritable (although that could have been increased by the medication that my doc put me on for the week), and just about always on the verge of tears.  No one loved me, no one wanted me, no one even remembered that I was around.  I was afraid to go out and see people because I was fairly certain I wouldn’t have been able to hold it together.  I was absolutely miserable.  I didn’t necessarily want to die, but I certainly didn’t want to go on living.  Except for after my therapy appointment on Friday.  I definitely wanted to die at that point.

Thursday we doubled one med and added another.   I really wish I would have had some more time for it to get into my system before Friday morning.   I now go into therapy expecting to be attacked therefore I’m defensive.  When I’m struggling not to cry, my tone gets sharper.  Apparently based upon this she decided that I was that way to everyone all the time.  My perceptions are out of what and a lot of the time I know it, but I can’t get past it.  Not to mention that the worse my emotional level gets the harder it is to remember it.  *shrug*  By Friday evening I was soooo much better.  I’m calm, I haven’t felt like crying since Friday morning.  I had a set back trying to get a different brand of contacts.  I was hoping to get the change at Moon, but they said I had to go to my original Wal-Mart.  So Mom and I went out to Pleasant Hills and got it done.  I didn’t end up in tears and last weekend I would.  I would also had given up and not made the effort to get it done.  I’m making plans with people.  I’m not afraid to see my friends.  I don’t feel like no one wants me.  I don’t feel like I want to die.  I don’t feel like everyone has forgotten me, and when I thought that might have been the case, I wasn’t in tears.  I’m not obsessing.  I’m not looking at Facebook and feeling absolutely lonely and miserable.  It’s like someone flipped a switch.  Or was pushing up on a dimmer switch.  I don’t know how to explain it and I’m not sure any explanation I could come up with would do it justice.  *shrug*  Sometimes it feels like I’m too different people.  It looks like unfortunately I’m one of those people who needs to be on medication.  I don’t like that, but it’s worth it to feel normal.  I hate being this way because people don’t understand.  I’m so worried about people getting the wrong impression (and I know they do) and about offending people.  There’s not much I can do about that.  I definitely feel out of control when my meds aren’t doing right.  I don’t know how this will be once the initial high wears off.  *shrug*  You just have to keep going and take it one day at a time.

It’s been a rough week and it’s not even over yet. (Warning! This is a long one.)

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My self esteem isn’t always the best. It never has been. There have been times in the past when it has been better than others, but you know what? Right now isn’t one of them. Last week’s counseling session really torpedoed it. I feel like I’m fighting against everyone. Well, almost everyone. I wasn’t feeling very strong due to illness. Nausea is hard to deal with and I had been going through it on both Wednesday and Thursday. Being told that I was too rough…just hurt. I don’t know how I was too rough. He forced the issue. I told him things that were troubling me. I’d been telling him things that bothered me. He didn’t listen. He didn’t remember. He doesn’t. We argued basically every time we were on the phone and every time he was at home. I’d tell him specific things he could do, and he didn’t do them. *sigh* Then to have her tell me that she didn’t think that “the fat lady had sung” on our relationship. What about it makes it salvageable? Just because he’s a nice guy and didn’t physically abuse me doesn’t mean that I need to be with him. I’m completely drained. Physically, emotionally, and financially. I need someone I can depend on. I want someone to be strong for me. I don’t want someone who deals with something that he knows bothers me by avoiding it and ignoring it. Anyways, the result of that Friday is that I have been feeling like a horrible person. Like someone who is mean and cruel. I like to think I’m a good person, or at least an okay person, but that. That doesn’t.
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