It’s fitting that today is the day I find out that WordPress Blog decided to quit doing the one thing that helped me form so many blogs, on this the day I have returned to blogging.
I’m honestly getting tired of how in and out things are going. I really wanted to use Retrospective (so I’m going to anyway) because the more I get older, the more I am able to think back on my life and really delve into the shitty shit that I went through or put others through.
Today, however. I want to just kind of rant a bit about some things (which like any 2-week seclusion binge, is how I like to start my blog off).
I legitimately have to go through my blog to figure out what the last thing was that I posted so that I do not go too much into the same rambling nonsense. It looks like the last thing that I wrote was regarding my mental health for #mentalhealthawarenessweek
Speaking of that, come to find out… But fitting that the last blog I write indicated just how much I was struggling with isolation and depression, and here I am to reiterate that fact.
before we really delve into that, I want to talk about just how much I fear to be a disappointment. I don’t like saying no to “extra hours” at work, I don’t like meeting new people because I don’t really know who I am as a person, so I slide in and out of different attitudes and I’m always saying the wrong thing at some point. Thus, starting my isolation and anxiety-ridden paranoia for the weeks to pass.
I never had a problem knowing I really didn’t know who I was as a person. To be honest, I thought that was who I was… The person that could fit in in any group, and got uncomfortable if those groups meshed because I didn’t know how to act properly in that setting.
I always mirrored. It’s funny that I called my self a social chameleon for years, not know that Chameleon Syndrome is actually a real term for people who have chronic Borderline Personality Disorder. But, the mirroring made it hard for me to actually connect with anyone and form a relationship.
I honestly don’t think it was till sometime last year I really started to face who I was, and simply couldn’t find anything.
I don’t know if you know how scary that seems. The literal fear of looking into the mirror and seeing nothing, not recognizing who you are and panicking. The snapping out of dreams wondering why everyone was “blank face” or “blurry” because the disassociation from any group personality is that strong.
I guess it’s not really something I ever thought about too hard before. I’ve mentioned it to Adam on multiple occasions, about how I used to mimic the emotions of the crowd around me just to try and fit in. I always thought that was just how my personality was, how I was able to survive for so long, you know?
I think that’s why going to concerts with him was rough for me because there were too many clashing personalities, I didn’t really know how to act.
And not only is that whole “no self” feeling completely scary, but it’s also angering and depressing. Making your isolation and disassociation that much stronger. And it wasn’t really til today I started actively searching what that meant.
Not to say that the therapist I saw in May was right and suddenly I know exactly what to do… In fact, this is way more of an issue for me now than it was then…
I’m not fond of delving into my diagnosis, especially if it means accepting it’s a real thing… Considering Dr. Young really only diagnosed me Personality Disorder not otherwise specified means there were WAY more complications in my explanations of shit then she was willing to let on until we spoke in more depth on those…
The problem is… I don’t have $150 every week to be seeing her, and I really am not looking forward to paying medical bills the rest of my life… Considering that’s the main reason I stopped doing and going everywhere because of my insurance sucking.
For now, I want to leave this here as it is. I feel if I try and think too much on it right now, my entire weekend is ruined and I have to do a family thing this weekend (which takes a lot of preparation and energy) that I already really am not feeling.
till next time, readers…
your ever-changing, distant narrator