I like to talk about sports. My friends don’t. Several of my friends feel it necessary to bash sports, sports fans, players, and anything having to do with any of them. I like Pirates and to go to games. I like the Steelers and to watch games. I even like the Pens. I like to read and talk about books. As far as I can tell my friends do not read the same books. Fantasy? Romantic comedies? Science Fiction? Nope. Not on the list. I can talk about rx’s and dr’s and work stuff, but people don’t know about that and don’t really care.

I don’t feel close to anyone. How could I? Do you know how often I worry that I would be bothering someone by calling them? I do not feel that it’s okay to just show up at someone’s residence either. I feel guilty very easily that I’m badgering people to try to get them to do something with me? Do you have any clue as to how often I am put off by people, accused of being insensitive, or just plain forgotten? More than enough times to leave scars. I don’t expect people to be perfect – I never have. I try hard to accommodate other people’s schedules, but I don’t do mornings. Do you know how often people ask me to do something in the morning? It is extremely difficult for me. I also get people asking me to do things on days I work. I don’t have a great deal of time on those days.

I am afraid of people. I’m afraid of pushing too hard and being tossed aside. I’m afraid of saying what I actually think or feel and being rejected. I’m afraid of talking too much or saying too little or even talking about the wrong thing. Don’t tell me that I’m silly or stupid for feeling that way. Do you know how often that’s happened to me? I have people I’m afraid to talk to problems about because I’ve already been told that I was immoral and deserved my fate.

Do you know how often I see people talking about how their friends have cheered them up, encouraged them, supported them, helped them out, etc? Do you know how jealous I am of them? Do you know how jealous I am of people talking about having best friends? I don’t have one of those and I have no faith that I ever will. I was too numb for too long. I’m not sure I ever learned how to relate to people or if I was ever good at it, but if I was those skills are long gone. I had to turn down too much for too long and now I’m on the way outside looking in and I have no faith that I’ll get close to anyone ever again. I’m not interested or special. I don’t have charisma or something in common with people. I’m weird, strange, whatever and I know it. People have lost patience with me.

I’m also in a lot of pain a lot of the time and the consequences of that pain are embarrassing.  I no longer use silverware. I use plasticware.  I use paper plates at home.  If I go out with Mom she cuts my meat.  I don’t go anywhere without my tube of IcyHot.  I can’t knit. I can’t hold a book. I drop things a lot more.  I brought my camera to a couple of events but didn’t dare take any pictures because I know that a) it would hurt to hold and b) that I might just drop it.  Since I don’t have a diagnosis and most of the time the pain laughs hysterically at otc pain killers most people think I’m strange or that it’s not real.  They don’t understand and they don’t get it.  I know that most people have no concept of how much pain I am in for a week every three months and how much less pain killers (even Vicodin) work on that pain.  And I have to function through it.  Go to work. Do my job. Get things done.

I have a once a month group, but they intimidate me. I know I’m not good enough to belong and I was also informed that one of the group was extremely angry that I broke up with Tom.

I don’t want to lose what little I have and it’s hard knowing a lot of your friends believe (or at least act like) the things I really like are stupid or bad or wrong.  There’s a section from the JJ Heller song “What Love Really Means” which has always struck a chord with me:

Who will love me for me
Not for what I have done or what I will become
Who will love me for me

Unfortunately I don’t really think anyone ever will.  I have more faith that people will turn away from me and/or hate me.  That’s happened more often than I would like.

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.

by LiveJournal user xbelladollx

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!

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.

I know part of it depends on what you have in common with someone.  That’s a big problem for me that I’m really not sure how to change.  I don’t have a whole lot in common with the people in my life right now.  Most of them are married with (young) children.  The others are in a relationship or have children.  I read a lot.  I probably spend a lot of my free time reading.  Some of that has to do with the fact that I don’t have much to do outside of the house.  I also have unusual reading choices, at least in my circle.  I enjoy sci fi, fantasy, and romances.  I do like watching football and hockey and going to baseball games, but that seems to be hard to plan.  Another problem is my hours.  My life rarely includes mornings.  I work until either 12:30 am or 2:30 am and I try to avoid varying that on the weekends.  It just makes my life easier.  I don’t go to church on Sundays.  I usually sleep till about 1 pm on the weekends which cuts out morning services.  Not to mention that I have a hard time fitting in at churches on my own.  Sometimes friendships grow because of the people you live around.  I live in a neighborhood of retirees and senior citizens.  Sometimes friendship grow at work.  The people on my shift who I work with do not talk to me.  I only talk to leads and supervisors and only when I have questions.  Sometimes I go to people who know about the protocol I’m working in if the lead doesn’t know.  I’m completely isolated there.  I spend more time talking to the van drivers who I see for less than 10 minutes a day.  *shrug*  Not much I can do about that.

A lot of the problem, however, is me.  I’ve spent most of my life on the outskirts, not fitting in.  It didn’t start by choice, but it lasted throughout my public school career.  It got better in high school, but my choices were rarely the popular ones.  I’ve always been grateful that I have always enjoyed learning and excelled at it as well.  Although that was, in some instances, was the problem.  I’m quiet.  I shy.  I’m not terribly fond of large groups of people. I don’t know how to break into groups.  I don’t tend to interrupt people.  I will wait and if the conversation turns so that what I have to say is no longer relevant, I don’t say it.  I don’t invite myself places and I don’t feel comfortable just dropping by to see someone.

Of course, I couldn’t fairly go through my thoughts on friendship without bringing up the depression.  I’ve noticed that these days my depression makes me feel even more isolated, unloved, and unwanted.  It’s incredibly hard to impossible for me to set up plans.  I just give up.  It can make me an erratic friend.  I’ve had people tell me that they can’t handle being around me.  We’ve talked and worked through things, but I’d be lying if I said that it hadn’t scarred me.  For one thing it’s made me even more cautious with what I tell people.  I don’t believe that people will listen when I’m negatively emotional so the closer to sadness it is, the less I talk about it.  I might post about it, but people won’t comment.  I’ve gotten to the point where I’m used to people starting conversations with me online and just disappearing whether it be by going offline, saying that they need to leave for a minute and never come back, or just stop talking altogether.  It’s frustrating.  But people are busy.  So I get used to it and accept it.

I don’t know how I would need to change or if changing would make a difference.  I don’t really want the things the people I know have.  There are some aspects, of course, that I envy, but I wouldn’t want to be any of them.  I tend to think I’m destined or meant to be alone.  *shrug*

Sig by livejournal user phyncke by xpixie_palacex

I look at my future and it’s not so bright.  I don’t have a kid, fiance, boyfriend, or husband.  I have Mom, Dad, and Kathy.  I’m not close to my sister or my step sister.  And by not close I mean we don’t speak for months at at time.  My sister is married and my step sister is engaged.  The rest of my family is states away.  Many states, in some cases.  My parents (with the exception of Kathy – I’m not sure how old she is, but my step sister is 9-10 years younger than I am) are in their 60′s.  Since my father’s father is 93 and still living mostly on his own (see my post My Grandfather is Amazing) so he’ll be around for a long time, I think.  My mother on the other hand is a different story.  Diabetes and colon cancer are the legacies of her parents.  She doesn’t want life saving procedures done.  She’s not even sure she wants blood transfusions.  I know she doesn’t want to have a long life.  I’m not sure how long of a life she wants, but I know she doesn’t want a long one.  It makes me sad.  I don’t like to think about losing my parents.  I’ll be basically completely alone at that point.

I don’t want children.  I’m not good with children.  In fact young children scare me.  Not to mention that I really don’t want to pass down the problems in my genes.  Then there’s the fact that I would most likely have to go off my antidepressant if I became pregnant and that would definitely not be good.  If I survived that, you can forget about breast feeding.  As much as I’d want to, I know I can’t handle my regular life, let alone a baby and possible postpartum depression, if I’m not on antidepressants.  And yes, I do realize that this will leave no one to take care of me in my old age.  My mother (who doesn’t like children) has already pointed that out numerous times.

I also really don’t expect to find a spouse.  I’m not really sure I want to find one at this point.  People can’t handle being around me because of my depression (not to mention the fact that I really don’t tend to fit in with most of my peer group.  I never have.). It’s even worse for those who live with me.  It’s not going to change.  There’s no magic issue that I can work through that’s going to make my severe depression disappear.  I have to be medicated.  Of course, being medicated properly is important as well, but my life has been a series of everything falling apart that I don’t think people will put up with.  Not to mention that a lot of men (and yes, I know this is a stereotype) have problems understanding emotions.  My illness is emotions.  A lot of the time it’s been out of control emotions.

There are other problems with spouses.  I have bad judgement when it comes to romantic relationships.  The past two major ones (okay, that’s the past two, but who’s counting?) have ended with me totally drained – emotionally, financially, and spiritually.  My other relationship choices (with one exception) haven’t been all that great either.  I don’t trust myself to find someone.   I don’t want to go from relationship to relationship anymore.  I’m not joining dating sites, going to bars, going speed dating, or any of the other find-a-mate things.  My schedule is a mess.  I can’t go to most get-togethers. I tend to be either at work or asleep.  The people I work with do not talk to me.  I don’t fit in with their sex text, drinking lives.  *shrug*  I don’t want to.

The upshot of all of this is in a very short amount of time I will be basically be completely alone.  I’m sure I’ll interact with people on places like Facebook and LJ and occasionally see the people I knew in school and at past work places, but it’s not like that’s going to be often.  I’m a loner and though it’s not always by choice, it’s the way things are.  The way things will be.  I’ve been struggling for 20 or so years to change it.  A lot of that was desperation due to my illness, but I’m going to try not to struggle with it anymore.  What will be, will be and all that jazz.  Still, it’s not always pleasant to contemplate.  I try not to, but the worse my depression is, the worse the obsession with it gets. Also the more morbid the thoughts get.  I start thinking about how I’ll die and no one will notice for days, weeks, months.  *shrug*

Well, enough sadness.  Moving on….

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.

Friday was rough.  I moved stuff over to Mom’s.  I left the apartment at around 4:30 pm.  I returned around 8 and got Tom to go and change the phone plans.  I did not go into the apartment.  After changing the phone plans we return.  I walked in and found the lights on.  I got angry.  No one was home so there was no reason for the lights to be on.  I went straight into the bedroom without looking around.  I don’t know why, but I wasn’t feeling very good and I was tired.  Tom said he was going out several hours later and asked me if there was anything I wanted him to do.  I didn’t get up and look.  I was working on the computer.  I said no.  I still had stuff I wanted to do and I planned to get up around midnight and spend an hour to an hour and a half cleaning and packing before I went to sleep.  When I did that Tom was not there.  The living room was a mess.  All of the things which I had not packed for him before he got home were lying around the room.  So I had to pick all of that up.  I put it on the couch.  I was furious.  I could not believe that he went out without finishing his own packing.  He had about 5 hours to do it in and there’s no way it would have taken that long.  he came home while I was doing it.  He yelled at me, telling me it was my fault because I hadn’t told him to pack his stuff.  He also said that it didn’t matter since my dad’s fiance had just said anything that wasn’t packed wasn’t going.  Excuse me, but we had to go through the living room to move stuff and move items that were covered with his stuff.  He didn’t get home until after 1 am and we had to be up early in the morning to get the truck.  Also, I didn’t know I was supposed to tell him to pack his own stuff.  I didn’t realize that it wouldn’t be obvious that the rooms and furniture had to be clear in order to do the move.  I didn’t realize that I had to tell him to do it before he left to go out and have fun.  I didn’t go and one of the reasons I told him that I couldn’t go was that I still had packing left to do.  I didn’t know I had to be his mother.

Saturday was worse.  I set my alarm late because I was so upset the night before that I messed up.  If I hadn’t called Mom we would have been late.  The guy I picked the truck up from told me I could change the drop off, but when I called she said I couldn’t since I had the truck.  Tom and I argued and he told me that if I didn’t stop yelling then he would not help with the move.  I was falling apart and had been since we had gotten the truck.  I was crying.  I told him I didn’t have a lot of control.  I cried for at least two solid hours then I finally took half a xanax.  It took about another half hour but I finally stopped crying.  I was carrying stuff out to cars when I could, but after taking the medicine I was unsteady and the fact that due to an argument with Tom I could not finish the hot dog I tried to eat for breakfast.  I was shaking and exhausted, but I kept going.  I got food for everyone who wanted it because I knew I needed to eat.  The Maracuja called when we were finishing up.  Upon finding out we were finished she offered to come over and help clean. I told her I’d call her when I got over there.  I got Tom in New Brighton and as we’re driving close to Ambridge he asks me to drop him off so he can get pizza.  Instead of going back to help me clean, he decided he wanted to get pizza.  I was completely pissed off at that point.  I left him there and went back to the apartment.  I called the Maracuja, but didn’t get her.  I left a message and started cleaning.  I cleaned the bathroom completely, I vacuumed the entire place, and started sweeping.  The Maracuja called and came over.  She helped me finish up cleaning, took me over to ENP for dinner (for which I will be eternally grateful), listened to me whine and complain (another thing for which I will be eternally grateful), and helped me finish getting stuff out to the car.  I left my key and never went back.

The next day I had was all over achy and had a fever.   Luckily, I was on vacation for the week.  I have felt horrible all week.  I’ve had cramps, especially today.  Dad worked on my car and fixed the rotors and brake pads.  I need to make an appointment for an inspection.  I went to sleep yesterday at after 5 am. I woke up in agony at just after 7 am.  I took pain killers, got Mom’s heating pad to use with mine (I had extreme pain in both front and back), and I have no idea how long it took me to finally get back to sleep.  I don’t even know when I woke up.  I had to unplug my clock to plug in the other heating pad.  When I went downstairs I discovered it was almost 4 pm.  I was in pain on and off for the rest of the day.  Still am.

There’s one more thing else that bothers me.  I have a friend who said she was planning on doing the zoo on Saturday morning.  I was thinking  of going despite the fact that it was in the morning because she’s one of my favorite people.  She decided to change it to the children’s museum.  She said she’d email me her schedule so we could make plans.  That was Monday or Tuesday.  I didn’t hear from here and it was Wednesday.  I saw her making plans with at least one other person.  I messaged her and asked if she was going to send me her schedule or if she just wanted to forget it.  She said no, that she’d send her schedule that night.  That was Wednesday.  I still haven’t received it from her.  I commented on one of her statuses and she commented back saying that she loved me for many reasons.  I have a hard time believing it.  I still haven’t heard from her. Except for that comment.

What’s wrong with me?

I have already been feeling like there’s something wrong with me. People at work do not talk to me. Not unless they have to. When I was in training, the other two trainees ignored me. Only the leads and supervisors talk to me most days. Sometimes people nod at me or will say hi as they pass me in the hall way. The van drivers talk to me more than my co-workers. I spend usually less than 15 minutes with them. I keep wondering why they don’t like me. I wonder why I’m beneath their notice.
It doesn’t stop there. My friends. My RL friends rarely talk with me. I’m on Facebook with many of them. It’s rare that they respond to anything I say. I comment on their posts and they’re basically ignored. I try to talk with people and get ignored. I ask if things are okay and I can see that they’re online, but they don’t bother answering till the next day, often when I’m asleep or at work. I try. I try to cut back on my depressive posts. It’s hard, but I really don’t say anywhere near as much as I could. There are a lot of times when I don’t say what I think about things because I don’t want to upset them. I try to interact. I was making plans. I did last weekend. I went to F Cubed. That’s hard for me considering the spiritual and emotional place I’m in right now. I expect them all to be angry with me for what I did to Tom. Especially after my appointment only two days earlier. I don’t know that they’re not. Whether or not it’s necessarily factual, I *know* I’m less important than he is. I *know* I’m less important than everyone. I *know* I don’t matter. Emotions aren’t rational. I want to be there for people, but I’m not good enough. I’m only good enough when there’s absolutely no one else.

It’s hard. My jaw hurts most of the day every day. It’s extremely hard to eat and last night it made it extremely difficult to sleep. That constant pain can be difficult. It’s draining. Only reading and listening to my audiobooks seem to block it. I also had bouts of nausea on Thursday. I’m going to have to work next Friday. That’s depressing. At least my shift doesn’t normally work on Fridays and those that do tend to work in the morning. Why, I don’t know. Of course, they don’t normally work till 230 the same morning. *shrug* I’m wearing myself out and I know it. I know I’m pulling in. I can feel it. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know that it matters that I do. I just keep asking myself and God what’s wrong with me?