anti-social

i just want to be alone. by myself. the only people who ask me to come around are my immediate family (well, besides my kids and husband). i can't stand the thought of all the layers of formalities when getting together with others. the surface excited-to-see-you top layer, accompanied by kisses and hugs...the next few layers of how long it's been (months, days, hours, minutes) since we last saw each other.....the awkward pauses in between how excrutiatingly busy everyone's life is but mine....

what does it do? i mean,  what does this meeting of individuals do for you? for me, it gives me stress. from the minute i realize there is a holiday or birthday on the way, to at least 24 hours afterwards, i am stressed. what do i talk about? how do i present myself as a happy, well-adjusted mom and wife? how do i stay interested in everything without input overload? every single time i have to put myself out there, give a good impression, make it look like i'm all ok, so all involved are satisfied, and then i can go.

other people have different approaches. some get extremely agitated and look like a wound top when they appear, others fake a huge smile and laugh and act all in control of a hugely chaotic life, others are obviously barely making it through the ordeal. i have grown to detest the fake layers. but i also don't want to talk about my problems or anyone else's. there is no "happy" medium. i don't feel any better after spending time with people. i feel worse. i don't feel a loving support system, i feel nothing but stress. i don't like taking up other peoples' time and space and caring energy, i just want to run.

but i have to consider my kids. yes, i know. i am an example for them. i am supposed to be sharing this family time and showing them how to have relationships and how to be sociable people. i can't. i don't know how. nor do i care to learn myself. my kids seem to have a grasp of others and how to interact. they both have a good intuition and sense about others. i want them to continue learning for themselves, my input is only confusing and depressing.

so you ask me, why would i ever even consider leaving my family, my kids, going away and letting them fend for themselves. stupid question. if you are in a toxic relationship, your goal should be to get out. i am responsible for putting the best examples forward for my kids to be guided by, and i'm not a good example. repair or remove the source of toxicity. seems so simple and effective, yet feelings come in and complicate everyfuckingthing. every day i wonder how i got this far....

depression. OCD. bipolar-ocity.

it's like this.....

i have everything i need. i have a nice house, an extremely hard-working husband who says he loves me to death, and two amazing, smart and loving children.

i have 2 cats and 2 hamsters that light up my days.

i'm not very healthy but i'm not completely incapable of changing that either.

i consider myself an artist because that is my passion, i want to do nothing else most days, and i think i'm ok at it.

yet i feel uncontrollably sad and hopeless.

i have really neat collections of things i love and tons of old books to absorb, but i don't pay any attention to any of it. no-one else in the world cares. i crave the existence of all of it, NEED to look at it to survive each day, then i think of how much it bothers me that it means nothing to anyone else - because it's what defines me...therefore i am invisible. 

i am so much the same as every other parent out there....homework to help with, a ton of appointments to make and keep, endless cleaning and laundry, piles of things to go through and errands to run, but i resent it all. tiniest responsibilities tie me down and make me want to close my eyes til it's all over.

every day i wake up tired - no, exhausted because all night i have stressful dreams and fight to correct things in them. they are as real to me as day. thoughts never ever stop and just the slightest daily input of a phone call or even the sound of my computer fan can be too much. how badly i wish my OCD was about checking door locks...no, i have thoughts about fights i had years ago, things people say, looks i get....over and over i relive things that took me down as i try to change it all in my head. i know it's self-abusive and i cannot stop it.

"lighten up". "move on". it's disgusting and horrible to be around me so i avoid contact with anyone who might be offended by my ugliness. then i become guilty for being antisocial and worry how my kids will turn out if i become a hermit.

"just go outside, go somewhere!". "make a schedule". very difficult indeed and i don't care. i just don't. i am at my most level when i have no schedule, nothing that has to be done, and nothing to plan or prepare for.

in truth, i would hand it all over in a heartbeat. as much as i adore my kids and know they need me, i feel incapable of giving them what they need...even just time to play. i cringe when i think of them turning out like me, and think that if they were raised by "normal" people (another whole discussion, yes) they might have a chance.

i yearn to live alone. if i never had to see another person i would be happy. i know i would slowly kill myself by overeating and hoarding, but that would be ok. i would be able to do everything i want to- draw all day, eat, collect, watch movies, sit at my virtual world and sleep. i pretend there would be no bills, endless money and someone to do the shopping.

i'm not stupid. i have a degree- in psychology and art therapy! but it doesn't make me at all able to stop the cycles and change any of it.

bipolar cycles are a joy. i can cycle ten times a day or once in several weeks. depends on how much is going on. i'm not as angry as i used to be, so for that i am grateful, very grateful. my bottom is not as deep as it used to be, also great. i don't have the energy for the mania like i did in the past- all good! but levels i have now are still debilitating and can suck the life out of me. 

"you focus to much on yourself". "life is short-just enjoy and appreciate every minute". like i WANT to be like this. i enjoy being so self-absorbed! fact is, i hate most everything about myself so that is not what the reality is.

the reality is that from the moment i wake up (technically....though i struggle all night as well), it takes everything in my power to be "normal"....to not end up in a tailspin....to not end up in bed crying until i can't breathe. or just laying there staring off into my own head. am i depressing you? try living it. people hate how negative and pessimistic i am.... if they could only see what was on the inside of my skull.

i feel better now after writing it all out - again. maybe someone who reads all this can relate. maybe there is a loved one who suffers as well, and more understanding can be had by those who get to watch. if ONE person benefits from reading this, i have done something worthwhile. 

as for me, i'm now exhausted again and need to lie down. i have been trying to get through to any one of 3 new psychiatrists to provide me with prescription maintenance, but not one of them has gotten back to me after almost a week. 

so it goes...

starting journals, hospital

i started doing art in my journals in college, and painting time was the only time i felt sane and in control.  it took me years to realize i needed this consistently. i did projects here and there, and in between was a wreck. i was in and out of therapy, on and off meds (heavy anti-depressants at this point) and basically just trying to get from day to day. i did hold down a job at a group home for autistic adults, which was the most amazing job i could have imagined. these clients were some of the most interesting people i ever met. as i did art with them, i learned how powerful it was as a communication tool. i began doing more for myself, and started a collage journal - cut and paste mostly. if you knew how many hours and days i spent cutting up magazines...it only helped part of my life.  my job was challenging and my life was getting serious.

at some point i gave up, and everything crashed down on me. i took a bunch of meds and ended up in the psych ward for 3 weeks. as i laughed at those aides who tried to coerce me into the craft room to make potholders, i found strips of embroidered ribbons and tassels. i wanted them. so i started a "pillow" of hoarded scraps which got bigger and bigger over the 3 weeks i was there. then i had my boyfriend (now my husband) bring in my journal and magazines and glue, and i was allowed to have scissors under supervision. apparently they hadn't noticed the sculpture i created out of the wire hanger i found in my room (?!). when i had my things in my hands i was strong - i had a place to hide and a means to have authority over my mind. i remember the curiosity and interest my art and supplies triggered..and wide-eyed glares from the social workers and nurses. made me smile....