Frustration, frustration, frustration.

Today I am mostly feeling angry. Punch the wall angry. Swearing at inanimate objects that have slighted you by being inanimate angry. It's coarsing through every fibre of my being as we speak. I can feel the adrenaline from it prickling every nerve. I'm twitching and overflowing with the electricity and impulsivity of it.  And I want to scream an ineloquent string of offensive words at the world out the nearest window. I want to punch and kick every single item in this flat. I want to vent all my frustrations at everyone I see and argue with everyone that dares to give me eye contact. I want to rip off the clothes that I'm wearing and pull out all my hair. I want to scratch, gouge, bite and hit every inch of me. I want to call people I know and be awful to them, just scream profanities at them and tell them all the ways in which they've let me down or have burdened me. Because I feel suffocated by this life, by who I am and since I can't control me, perhaps they can control who they are around me. I'm sick and tired of trying to mould myself into a band-aid for everyone's ailments. I'm sick of being patient, sick of listening. I don't want to do it anymore. It doesn't matter who it is, eventually everyone in my life dumps all their woes and frustrations on me. I'm the one that has to calm them down, hug it out and make them feel better. Because that's the role I've built for myself and that's what I do with everyone. I weed my way in, beseeching them to use me as their own personal agony aunt. Even with my support worker. Constantly talks about her kids and her life and if I didn't feel shitty enough about myself tells me that I have to remember there's always someone worse off out there and at least I'm not like the parents in the paper who's son was just murdered. That's a real problem. And then to confuse matters further when I told her it wasn't exactly news to me that I wasn't the hardest done by on the planet she replied with but maybe you are the worst off perhaps there is no one that has it harder than you. Talk about mixed messages. I don't exactly lack clarity on my particular situation. But knowing something and doing them are completely two different things and I've always found the execution the hardest part.
At the end of the day the part I'm struggling with the most is the idea of "change" and whether or not its possible. everything when it comes to the anxiety and depression is so much about denial and distraction. Very little is to do with dealing with anything, resolving anything, understanding anything. Is change even possible? Not from the people I know in my ife it seems, not from me for sure. At the moment it's all keep busy, go to the gym, take classes at night, hang out with friends. All in an effort to fill up the space in your head, to keep you so focused on everything else there's no time to wander into that old familiar room in your mind. I hate being busy though. I really despise it. What does it achieve? It leaves me drained and dreading the start of the next week. So at the weekends I get sucked back down the drain because I don't have the energy left to keep the smoke and mirrors going. I have to live it. And its still there, still as strong. So it uses me as a punching bag, keeping me awake, taunting me, extracting every ounce of self respect and worth I have. Every last drop of energy is evaporated. I'm trying to care about me, the flat, something...anything really but I can't. I don't have anything to anchor on to at this point. I'm going through the motions. I only manage to keep the flat tidy if someone is coming to visit or stay. I'm still not putting any energy into looking after myself, everytime I do I become so self-concious it leads to a day long series of panic attacks. My mind just goes into over drive on me. Every glance, every laugh is all at my expense and that little voice upstairs wallows gleefully in the cess pit that it has created. After all who am I to think that I can pull of normality. It's ridiculous to think that I could look anything less than profoundly hideous and a laughably shambolic impersonation of a real person. And it is so crystal clear to every other member of the public that they can't help but glare with derision and pity. I just want to reach inside of me and rip all the cowardice, the malice and uncertainty out. I want to gut myself like a fish. Make everything nice and clean. But I can't and I don't do any of it. All I do is push things down a little deeper and top it off with food. And I follow along ever so passively and accomodatingly to the people at the CMHT doing what I'm told even if i don't want to. for instance the fitness classes. I am too much of a chicken to outright say no I don't want to that, that this week I'll be going to two which are the closest to the flat.  I never stand up for myself or the people that I care about. I can never make my voice heard. and its not that there isn't a voice. Its not like I don't have opinions and probably snooty ones at that. I do. I can be perfectly obnoxious in my own right. That part of me though remains hidden away from 99% of people, ironically only the people I know best get to see the worst parts of my character. Even with them though I'd twist myself out of shape to do what I think I have to for them. Especially my brother and my best friend. They didn't ask me to do this. My brother constantly tells me he doesn't want me or need me to do this but I can't for the life of me turn off that need to make myself useful, to fit in and to stay quiet because only the people that are important get to speak. Only the people that matter get to need. Only the people  that are relevant get to decide. My job is to serve. My job is to do whatever is required, whether I'm able or willing to. My job is to stop being selfish and always put other people first. Such a crazy idea to build a prison for yourself and yet resent other people for forcing you to it. But I do. There's a part of me that really resents other people and it burns as bright as the part that loathes myself. And I know I'm never going to be free of it.
Change is an abstract idea and thats all at then end of the day. All we have are different grades of the same. Which is what really sparked off this latest explosion. My parents 36th wedding anniversay. 36 years of misery, resentment, verbal abuse, mistrust and not one ounce of change. And look at me I'll be 31 this year and I still react to them in the same way I always have, deference. Which is how I react to everyone. I lower myself. I can't be in a room with anyone no matter how much younger or older and not feel those panicked twinges of inferiority. Nearly thirteen years since I left high school and I still wake up in that same stomach churning, indigestion inducing state of anxiety. The world is just one large day at school. And everyone else are the nameless, faceless bullies that are just waiting to drag me down. Over a decade and I can't shake the way I look at the world. It's not as if I'm oblivious to the fact that there are good people in the world. I have my best friend, my brother, other friends and people I've become very close to on sites like Twitter. So why can't I shake it. Why can't I give myself and other people a chance? And why do I keep on blaming everyone else for something that only I am causing. I need to learn to be friends with people without injecting myself so deeply into their lives. Its not that I don't like helping it's just that I can't, not now at least. It's too much. I need a bit of peace and quiet to focus on myself, to try and figure out what I'm supposed to be doing and I can't do that if I'm constantly running after everyone else. I need to learn distance, boundaries. I need to learn that people won't automatically abandon me if I'm not at their beck and call 24/7. I wonder if I'll ever learn to cut myself any slack. I wonder if I'll ever make any meaningful progress, instead of just making the same old mistakes over and over. I'd really like a little change. I really hope I'm wrong and that its a possibility.

Sunday Brain Strain

The last few days my head has been swirling with all sorts of nonsense so I'm going to try and exorcise them from my grey matter. The usual negative diatribe of course was front and centre. And one or two issues from earlier in the week keep gnawing at me. Like the frustration I felt finally getting to the bank after 3 cancelled appointments to find out none of what my homemaker promised we could do could be done. And I ended up no further along and £50 lighter. The thing that I have been ruminating over the most however is my last meeting with my SW. It was a little strange. We didn't do anything apart from drive about. That's not the strange part however. It was that she was chatting away to me about her home life and actually acknowledged their had been a role reversal.

Usually she talks a lot about her kids etc. And I figured she must do this with everyone of her clients, must be her way of connecting with them and giving them examples that they're not alone. Apparently not though. Apparently I have the great honour of being her sounding board. And I have to be honest I'm not great at it. I think its because after almost 2 years seeing her I'm still pretty much all but mute and I guess there is just a lot of dead air to fill. I've mentioned before the way she treats me bothers me somewhat. She treats me more like a daughter a lot of the time than a client. And I find that hard to deal with. I don't even have the energy or ability to be there for the people I already care about a lot and its just added another one to the pile. Yay for more guilt. It means that I absolutely dont want to let her down and wouldn't dream of telling my Psychologist when things get uncomfortable for me.

And it also means I feel unable to tell her to her face if things are getting uncomfortable and I wish I could. She keeps telling me that it won't hurt her feelings but I don't believe her. And I especially couldn't have done it that days as she was particularly worried about one of her kids. Whom apparently was verging into my territory. She was obvioulsy worried but she had the strangest attitude toward it considering her line of work. She was adamant that despite the incident that occurred she wansnt going to go down the path of talking to the GP or other MH professionals about it. She didn't want her kid to go down the same route as me and she asked when my problems has started. And it was obvious that her kid being like me was her worst nightmare. And I still don't know how I feel about that. I guess I'm mad. I'd like to think I have some positive qualities despite my problems. Not that I'd be able to admit any but I do hope that there's something of worth in me. And I'm mad too that if there is a problem she'd rather pretend everything was okay instead of maybe getting her kid help. It makes me wonder what stock any of these people at the CMHT actually put in their work. If they don't believe in it, how can I?

Tug of War

Sundays have never been good days for me. Growing up there was always a 50/50 chance of an argument. Usually surrounding Sunday dinner. Now years later after these arguments have finally abated and the people involved have mellowed with time, it still leaves me cold. Whatever hour I wake, without fail, there's an impending sense of doom. Foreboding sitting heavily upon my chest. And I almost feel as if I can't catch breath because of it. My eyes dart around the room and I'll stare up toward the ceiling. I'll then glance over to the curtain and try to gauge what hour it is before rolling over and squinting at my mobile. Usually then I'll roll back over and close my eyes to try and force myself back to sleep. All without a sound.

And the quiet is key. I try hard most of the time to appear calm on the outside, no matter what's raging inside. That's not to say I don't ever lose control in front of people I don't want to. I've had my fair share of public panic attacks. The looks on people's faces really are priceless once you've screamed and cried uncontrollably in front of them. They edge a little farther away and stop talking to you directly, asking whoever's with you instead what the matter is and if you're okay. I hate those moments, especially when it's around people I care about. When you come too and realise what's happened, you see the colour has drained from their face, my mother is usually in tears trying to calm me and scared as hell because they don't know what's happening. Heck I don't know what's happening most of the time when I'm in a bad one. The worst one I ever had, I actually lost time. Total blackout. Almost fifteen minutes of my life gone. When I came too I was crouched down beside the radiator in the front hall and my Father was screaming at my mother that it their fault while my mother was yet again trying to console me.

So I try with all my might to keep things in check, no matter what I'm feeling no matter what is swimming around my head others can't know. Twitter actually helped with that. I found a place where i could open up and not feel as guilty. And I do feel guilty. I hate to make people worry. And I hate to feel like a burden. Or worse yet a complainer. And I feel that way every time I do open up. Especially compared to what everyone else has to deal with.

Of course there's that part of me that I explained in my first blog post that does cry out for attention. And that part likes whatever kind of attention it gets because it needs to feel special and wanted. These two extremes are constantly at loggerheads. And I'm caught in the middle. So I don't know what it's okay for me to feel and express and what isn't. I feel stretched between them and so mixed up that its affected how I deal with people. And that is I don't. It hasn't made me very good friend material. And it makes me want to withdraw. Because I'm comfortable with the quiet. And talking is hard. So very hard somedays. I try with my best friend to swallow the hard lump stuck in my throat and be there but its all very half-hearted. I can't but help thinking the whole time that I don't want to be on the phone. I can't listen to more problems because I'm all caught up in my own and they've got me drowning. And I hate the question, how are you? Because no one really wants to know. Who wants to know that the real answer everyday is not good? Terrible in fact. Who wants to hear that day in day out? So you sigh and you say I'm okay, I'm fine or some variation. Or some days you'll hint at how you're doing but never go into detail and switch the subject because it's tiring for you too. To have to think it and feel it and say it.

And that's why I prefer the PC because it doesn't judge & it doesn't demand anything of me. I can lose myself in TV shows, games or social networking sites if I've got the energy. It never really silences the constant grind of negative thoughts and whispers in your head but it helps. You can zone out and let time slip past till you can go to sleep again. Sweet sleep. Although I'm not sure why I call it sweet. The anxiety usually seeps over into your unconcious and nightmares are par for the course, so your already fractured sleep becomes all the more erratic.

Friends on the other hand, demand energy, empathy and a whole host of other things that most days I don't have a hope in hell of providing. And it makes me insecure because I don't want to be this shitty friend, who can't talk and be honest with people. And gets exasperated at taking a call. Who can't be there when they're needed. I want to be a good friend, a caring friend. Someone who looks forward to hearing from you. Someone who always says the right things and is there at the right time. So I constantly weigh myself against others in my friends lives and panic. Even my twitter friends. Just earlier tonight I saw a few of them talking and it was an arrow in the heart. And all those little voices couldn't have been happier. "See" they would say. "We told you that they don't really care about you" "Why would they" "What have you ever done for them" "There's no way you could be as funny or as interesting as the people they are talking to now and you know it" "They know it too". "They''ll get tired of you soon" "tired of your bullshit". "You're always going to be second best" "They don't need you, they never needed you".

I'm forgettable. I've always been forgettable. And I've always felt I needed some sort of schtick when it comes to friends. Something that I could be or do for them that no one else would or could. I was never good enough just on my own. I have to be caring, compassionate, always available, always willing to do things for them. And if I'm not all of these things then I'm not a good friend in my eyes. It has led to unhealthy habits. Like giving friends money that I tell them never to pay back. After all what are friends for? I do my best to buy them gifts, pushing myself to my financial limits to do it. If they ask me to do anything for them, I automatically say yes. I don't even think about it. Doesn't matter if it's terrifying, costly or immoral. I'm so terrified of letting them down. I worry that they'll leave me the instant that I can't be of use to them. These compulsions aren't limited only to friends, it's the same way with charities. It also feeds into my insecurities so whenever I see a chugger or big issue seller if I've got money on me it goes to them. If I don't have the money I feel sick to my stomach, so deeply ashamed I'll go out of my way to avoid them.

But then there are the moments were that other little voice takes over and the resentment builds and I'll find myself a snarling beast. Mad at the world. Wondering why no one ever does anything for her? Why does she always have to come to the rescue? And it gets angry at everyone who can't see through the veil and see how much its suffering. And a part of it wants them to suffer too. It just wants to spread its poison far and wide, till everyone feels just how it does. And they'll never make the mistake of ignoring her again.

It's like having an angel and a devil boxing inside your head for control and while they're throwing punches you're just left confused and lost inbetween. So you withdraw because you're never sure how you're going to feel or act at any given moment and they jostle for command of the helm. But I don't want it to be that way. I don't want to be a timid mouse like creature one minute and a swearing, rage filled banshee the next. I want to be a more even tempered and candid person. Someone who's not afraid to speak up and doesn't agree willy nilly with people despite not agreeing with them or wanting to participat in what they're doing. Because that only leads to ammunition from the darker half who'll explode at the randomest of moments and woe betide anyone caught in her path. I want to want to be a part of people's lives and not feel insecure because I'm not being held up on a pedestal 24/7 and freaking out because they shock horror! talk to other people. I don't like being jealous or afraid.

What I'd really like to do this year is take the plunge and commit myself to people more. Make some phonecalls, write some emails and text from time to time instead of being incommunicado and thinking the occassional tweet makes up for it. And then on days like this when I'm feeling down I wonder if I can. If I ever will. The quiet quicks in and even though I read things I'd love to respond to, I can't. And if someone phones I'll try hard to converse but it gets me by the throat. Sitting in the pit of my stomach it wraps its tendrils around my vocal chords so no matter how hard I try I can't make a sound. It just sucks you in, like a black hole, nothing escapes its event horizon. It simply won't let you communicate. It just thrusts you into the vacuum of space and you wait for the end to come because you can't scream.