All through high school I shied away from dating. I even kept my interaction with guys to a minimum. Now I’m paying for it I guess. I keep trying to connect with people through social sites but then my insecurities flare up when something gets asked. I should know better!!

I can't recall ever being driven to tears...I thought I was strong enough to handle the criticism that often comes after my parents begin drinking. I should have known my dad would be the one to accomplish bringing me to tears first. As if I already don’t feel small and dimwitted as it is around them! They graduated from GT with physics degrees for f*** sake!! How is a child—who’s reached other milestones with little trouble—supposed to feel? I talked before the majority of my peers and I was a human yack-back soon after I learned to say mama. My parents always told me they would say Constantinople and I’d say it right back with no verbal struggles. My baby sitter spoke Greek with me and I understood her!! Yet, the further I got into my school years, the harder it was for me to maintain anything above a C. And my social phobia began getting worse—or even developing—when I entered middle school. What was so bad to cause a bright outgoing child to turn into a pessimistic anti-social nutcase?
I wonder what my parents thought when I began to close off and my brother began to blossom? I found a calendar from 03 – 04 that belonged to my mother. I could understand noting the doctor appointments and such but there was an underlying tone to the entries that involved my psych-related appointments.
Dr. Spock doesn’t have a book on how to nurture a kid/teen with a wish to end their life or who deliberately mars their skin. How does a parent even begin to prepare to cope with a teen that has the above normal problems? Or even worse—as in my case—longer than expected problems?
I have to hold on—again—for four days before I can see my psychologist. The diagnosis of Treatment Resistant Depression is hard to deal with as it is but I am starting to believe the thoughts of wanting to end my life are also chronic. Or just plain exhausted of life. If I were diagnosed with a terminal illness I feel like I’d accept it quicker than any other change I have ever come to terms with.
After the crying episode tonight—though short I did my best to hold it in as the criticism was going on—the after headache was intense. I took 3 ibuprofen—purely out of defiance—knowing full well the dosage was only 1 pill—2 at the most. My organs are already f***ed up I’m sure. 12 years on psych medication doesn’t keep your organs working 100% doesn’t last for long, so what’s the harm in getting rid of pain when the damage has already been done?
Tomorrow will be interesting…I have seldom felt a need to fake a smile while around my extended family as a whole but tomorrow will probably be an exception. My brother won’t be there—I am not sure why I was seeing his presence as a safety net—and the routine questions like “how’s school” and “have you been driving” or “what have you been doing” will be presented to me or—even worse—one of my parents. I can handle the answer most of the time but my parents…they don’t have a master’s degree in fake smiles and fibs that keep everyone else happy and unconcerned like I do.
I had forgotten my feelings of needing to prepare for physical contact…it’s like I have to shut off emotionally when I hug someone so I can maintain composure. I don’t usually initiate hugs, even with my family. The only exceptions are my grandma and my aunt L—who also struggles with depression. My aunt may not even be present tomorrow.
Part of me doesn’t even want to go and have to keep the facade up for a few hours. Even if I am successful, I’ll come home feeling mentally exhausted and then berate myself for feeling the exhaustion after being with my own flesh and blood.
Regardless of my nap today, crawling into bed now sounds amazing! And odds are I’ll take the sleep medication just for the heck of it. It’s supposed to help get me to sleep so I can correct my sleep cycle so the sleep study can be done but I don’t see that happening for a while. I have to sleep in a strange bed with god knows how many tubes beeps and such for 6 hours.

  1. yirah 7 years ago

    *hugs* it's okay to have social phobia. You needn't feel ashamed of it or depression. Some people don't understand, but that doesn't make you a nutcase. I hope all goes well for you tomorrow.

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  2. nemesis1337 7 years ago

    It's a constant struggle… but there are others out there who can relate. You are not 'crazy' and most importantly you are not alone. 

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