Sooo..

First post. I'd post something witty or clever, but I just came home from work. Those brain cells fizzled hours ago. I suppose I'll post where I am and why I'm here, so that maybe if I move forward in life, I can look back on where I was and remember I don't ever want to come back to this life again.

The intent of my little blog or whatever is so that I can have a dumping ground. I usually write stuff on paper and can't get it out of my head until I do so – maybe if I do the same with the negative crap floating around in my head, once it's out, I can work on making it go away. In the very least, once it's out, it can stop harassing me for a little while.

I've spent most of my life in some form of depression or another. I've been in and out of therapy, and don't feel it's helped (sometimes it made me feel worse), so I distrust therapists. My social skills aren't the best since I was the loner bookworm kid and grew up pretty isolated (it was a circular thing).

I was, for a while, a reasonably independant person, leaving the house and confident enough to do things like fix my own car and be self-sufficient in college. Now, I'm currently going through a divorce. I'm shocked I actually got married, though it started failing pretty much from the get-go. My years of cohabitation squelched much of my self sufficiency and confidence. I'm too anxious to go out much, and tend to bail on the rare invites I have to go anywhere. The thought of going somewhere, alone, upsets me. I don't have the confidence to do much of the things I used to. The person that used to replace valve cover gaskets in her car doesn't know where to start with making the stupid ice maker work again or go take a tv to the recycling facility. I cycle between work, sleep, insomnia, and crying jags.

I don't live near any friends or family. I love the region I'm in, but there's nothing here but my job. It's a good job, so I'm terrified to leave it, but would leave it in a heart beat if I felt like I belonged anywhere or had some reasonable guarantee of being happy elsewhere, so I go to work, pray for the weekend to come, spend most of the weekend thinking too much and hating being alone, and then go back to work. I'm not at a point where I'd consider harming myself, but I'd be ok with not waking up or if a semi ran the red light. The only thing keeping me getting out of bed in the morning is that I'd hate for someone to be stuck taking care of my cat, and that I'd make my best friend really sad. She's sad enough, so I don't want to add to her pile of misery. I don't live anywhere near my best friend, unfortunately. It would do wonders for me if I did.

I'm only lightly medicated at this point. I should be on more, but I'm stubborn. I don't want to be fixed with chemicals, especially if I know that if I were somewhere with some sort of social network physically around me, I wouldn't be in this boat. I've never lived anywhere where I could be around friends on a regular basis, so it's something I dream about often. It's so common for people to go to movies with others, or go out to eat or do whatever – I wonder if they realise how lucky that is, or that there's people wishing for these simple things? I get stupidly excited when I get to go to a restaurant, though it usually only once a month when my boss comes to town.

Not sure what else to throw into this first post, but I guess that's overview enough of who I am and what brings me here. At some points, I imagine I'll be talking about some of my history – relationships, deaths, suicides, rape, isolation, self worth. It sounds like a shitty blog, but it'll be good to get this out of my system.

I think I keep coming back to the same low points like the one I'm in now though maybe because I never worked through a lot of the baggage and squared it away – I just tuck it away, put on a face, and off I go pretending to be normal. People tell me I'm strong and brave, but it's getting harder and harder to keep that face on. I used to not slip as much as I do now, and don't know how to deal with not being able to keep all my mess behind closed doors anymore. It's funny, in seeing this divorce coming for quite a while, it seems like I'd have reconciled with it and gone on business as usual. I guess it was one-too-many, that last bit of debris I tried to sweep into the closet, and now the door won't shut anymore, so my crap wants to come falling out.

I'm starting to ramble a bit, so time to stop typing.

 

 

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