Thursday | 06.06.24

I wanted to start by thanking everyone for the kind words in response to my last journal! I didn't really know how to respond, but I really did appreciate it! <3

[Warning: overly personal ranting ahead!]

Wanted to whine about how annoying it is to send in job applications, ugh. I started by going through Indeed but nothing is even categorized properly (police officer or nurse practitioner is an entry-level job??), so I found a job portal that was put out by my state. It's also kinda horrible and slow and clunky, but seems to have less obviously fake listings, at least. I've mostly been applying for retail positions, but I did find one lab tech position...

In all of my journalling that I mentioned last time, I wrote about how in a "perfect" timeline, as opposed to this "doomed" one, I would be a chemist... I think I wrote about this before, but, in college, I legit spent all of my time studying. I'd take multiple hardcore science and math classes at once, each requiring several hours of homework a night, with new assignments added each day so even at full capacity, you'd just barely be keeping your head above water. If you took one day off, even, you'd be just be screwed and inevitably fall behind. I'd frequently skip meals to keep studying (or "reward myself" with dinner, only to remember that the dining halls were already closed). To top this off, I also took kinda really heavy literature courses as "gravy," where we'd have to read several books a week on top of everything else -- but I really enjoyed that, and that's when I took that Russian Lit class that I keep talking about on my Bookbug page. I specifically remember telling my advisor that it felt like a "soul-crushing amount of work," but it was something to hold onto, y'know? A reason to get up in the morning and a tangible goal I was working towards, with my full weight... And I'd think, even if this isn't necessarily the right interpretation of the quote, about that line from Notes From Underground: "Which is better -- cheap happiness or lofty suffering?"

I never made any art throughout my years of uni, and barely did anything at all outside of classwork, actually. (And I was honestly very depressed and overworked, and having suicidal thoughts, as well...) I think the only artsy-thing I did was this assignment for a class about the history of comics; we were supposed to teach a lesson via comics, then "assign" homework based on it. I wrote mine about chemistry, obviously, lol. The prof hated it and thought it was too wordy, but I'm still kinda proud of it and liked all of the little references I worked in (main chara is a mixture of Dexter of Dexter's Lab fame and Ms. Frizzle, the Kirby-looking water molecules, etc). That class was taken at the beginning of COVID, though, so mid-semester, we were all suddenly kicked out of the dorms and everything went online. It's very difficult and silly to try and run a lab class fully online, y'know? And by that point, everyone had pretty much just given up, anyway. All the classes that semester were switched to pass/fail, and that comics prof just went, "Yeah, you know that 20 page final paper I've been talking about this whole time? Don't bother turning it in, I'm just giving you all A's." (Which I was simultaneuously relieved and kinda pissed about! I wanted to write it about the history of Yaoi....)

When that semester was over was when I just broke, entirely. Going from full octane, putting 120% into schoolwork 24/7 to literally nothing for months on end was genuinely rock bottom for me. The hobbyless-ness of uni without the work or even illusion of progress... This wasn't an Underground Man moment of resentment and burning hatred, but simply nothing, the abyss.

Until I moved, in October 2020, and got a desk in my room. That's when I got into bookbinding, and started painting again, like I did in high school, and took online classes at a community college. And started working slowly on my crippling perfectionism (like, I used to be too anxious to even write with pens or to commit to journals because I was scared of "ruining" them with my thoughts, scared to draw for fear of making an "imperfect" work of art, scared to try anything!). And things kinda rolled on from there to now.

The point I was trying to make in all of this, is that I don't think this is a "doomed timeline," at all: while it may not visbily look like I've made much "progress," I do actually think this might be the best my mental health has ever been! I genuinely enjoy bookbinding and needlefelting and painting and reading and researching and all of these other little things that I've picked up over the years, but more than that -- I think this is the first time in my life that I've actually felt like I've been part of a community, not only feeling alive, but also like I exist to other people, apparently even when I'm not in the room... I'm truly so grateful! <3

Like I was saying last time, I still have a lot to work on, obviously. I was on a nice roll for a while in chilling out about art, but I've ripped up the last couple of paintings I've attempted because I hated them. And, honestly, I've been sending in these job applications, but I'm kind of scared of what happens next, if I actually get hired and my life does change... but, for lack of better words, you just have to "do it scared," huh?

To add to this surprising yet pleasantly hopeful feeling, I've seen rainbows on two separate occasions in the last week:

I legit don't remember the last time I saw a rainbow before this, and to see them now... I don't know, just feel so indescribably happy. <3

Tuesday | 05.28.24

Let's start this entry with a crafting update for a change!

Last time, I mentioned a needle felting project and, here she is!

I was trying to make a little pond environment for her to live in, but I can't quite work out the details of how I want to do that... I was originally planning on having her be half-submerged in an embroidery hoop with blue tulle so it'd be transparent and a mixture of embroidered and felt lilypads and waterlilies, etc. But I couldn't really figure out how to do that. I think the new plan might be to make a felt base instead? It's on the back burner for now, though.

I did end up making another little fella, though; a shiny mareep! <3

Her pose is based on that mareep alarm clock that I'm in love with, but cannot justify the price of. I tried a new technique to make her fluff texture: making a bunch of little loops of yarn. It took a super super super long time, but I think she turned out really cute and soft!

Also, last time, I mentioned the fic gift exchange, right? I ended up doing two, and they weren't really the greatest, but, again, it was a neat idea for an exchange and a fun universe to explore! If you were interested, my ao3 is aphitalia. I also absolutely loved the gift that TechnicolorRevel wrote for me! It's so beautifully written, with a similar vibe as the original short story, and really paints a picture in your head!

Now onto the meat of the entry... (Warning: It gets a bit weird from here...)

I was originally gonna say therapy has been useless, but, honestly, I think it’s been really helpful being exposed to someone outside of my immediate family. I’ve found it kind of difficult to talk to her, despite having a lot of anxieties in the last three weeks between visits and she says stuff like, “Oh, yeah, I understand why that’d be upsetting,” or “I think anyone would feel that way in that situation." At first, I thought she was being dismissive or even "invalidating" me: I expected / wanted her to tell me I was crazy and overreacting, to just shut up and get over it. Or that I was irredeemably broken and to just give up already or something... but, I'm realizing that that's, uh, pretty fucked up.

Like, I was telling her about the ant infestation I mentioned in the last entry. (It seems under control now, by the way.)

me: “My living room was infested with ants. Particularly the couch where I always sit. It makes me uncomfortable to have ants crawling all over me.”

her: “I see. So, what did you do about it?”

me: “Well, first, I tried to ignore it but couldn’t, so I sat somewhere else. Then, when I could, I got some ant traps and waited a few days. I checked under the couch cushions and the floor and didn’t see any more ants, but I was still worried that there might be some. I guess this is really irrational, but I was constantly checking my arms and legs for a while, despite not seeing any.”

her: “How long did this last?”

me: “A few days. I distracted myself playing Tetris.”

her: “Oh, a few days after a major infestation, it makes sense to still be worried. And, yeah, playing games is a good way to distract yourself.”

Basically, it was the most quotidian, nothingburger conversation ever, but, like, at the time, my mom was constantly criticizing and making fun of me for two weeks over it: “You’re really afraid of an ant? Just sit down and stop being such a baby!” or even, “I’m really worried about you, that you’re this anxious about such a little thing.” (I wasn't crying at this point or anything, by the way, I was just quietly sitting in a different part of the room.) I was genuinely convinced that this was just yet another sign that something was deeply, pathologically wrong with me, but here the therapist was just like, “Oh, yeah, you handled that very well. Good job.”

The therapist proceeded to ask what sorts of things seem to cause my panic attacks, and, again, I found it difficult to answer. I've since been reading this book Flonne recommended to me, Schiraldi's The Self-Esteem Workbook. I’m only a few chapters in so far, but there was a diagram on page 40, explaining:

And it made me realize that, actually, my issue isn't really "automatic thoughts" -- in fact, my first response when there’s a problem is to take a step back and calmly think about it and / or try to solve it. The panic only really comes in if a) I cannot find a suitable solution (ex: I am literally not allowed to leave an overstimulating situation), or b) I am outright yelled at or insulted for taking a second to think before acting or for making a mistake or for having emotions, in general. But, really, even if I'm not allowed to leave an overstimulating situation (ex: lecture hall, caucusing, etc), I've found ways to cope with it, like sitting in the back corner or against the wall (away from the action, so to speak) -- the issue in New Orleans, for example, was that I wasn't ever allowed to self-regulate my environment and was yelled at for saying I felt uncomfortable in bars and that I should just suck it up and "learn to compromise." Yes, sometimes this negativity is internal, but, a lot of the time, it's external...

It seems my biggest problem is, apparently, I think I've literally just been psychologically abused my whole life, without ever realizing that's what was going on… That sounds silly but I guess I always assumed that I deserved the way I was treated, that I am just stupid and overemotional and fundamentally, psychologically broken for no reason and I’m personally at fault for that. I've done a lot of journaling (in my physical journal) this weekend, and here's a quote from early on:

Evidently, there's something wrong with me or else people wouldn't get mad at me for stuff like this.

The ye old Job assumption, I guess, but I've since realized just how fucked up that is!

I think I've talked in a previous journal entry here about how I wanted to try to avoid pathologizing myself but apparently that's what I've been doing this whole time: I've kind of ended up self-identifying as "having the psychology of a kicked puppy without having been kicked" and that I'm "simply too neurotic to function" (actual quotes from vent posts on my tumblr). And that's why it felt weirdly "invalidating" for the therapist to just treat me like a normal person and have her say that it seemed like I was coping well. In fact, most of our discussions have pretty much just been advice on how to tailor your resume to each job you apply to and writing cover letters, rather than mental health issues, at all...

I’m realizing that the way I’ve been treated isn’t normal. Why was I constantly punished and / or pathologized for having any emotions, good or bad? Like, when I was a kid, I’d sometimes watch shitty let's plays in the corner with headphones on and giggle, a very embarrassing and girly giggle, and my mom would throw things at me for it. Even now, I could be smiling at a dumb meme on my phone and get snapped at, “What are you smiling about over there? Who are you talking to?!” Also, I live in tornado alley, yeah? A town not that far away from where I live was completely flattened within the last month. And I was checking the weather during a bad storm recently and the weatherman said to take shelter immediately, there's been a funnel cloud sighted in our immediate vicinity. So I took shelter, and she made fun of me, treated me like I was crazy and overreacting, and proceeded to take a nap in the living room under a giant window. But something that really sticks out to me was, a few years ago, she got really sick with Covid and spent a month in the hospital. When she came back home, she was on a respirator and still very weak. And I cried a lot. And she yelled at me: “God, you only think about yourself, don’t you?! I’m the one who was in the hospital and you’re the one crying!” And it’s like, you’re my mom and I love you and you’ve been in the hospital and have heart failure and I’m worried about you! And you’re yelling at me for this?? There are so many more examples, but it's probably inappropriate to share them...

Now, this isn't to say that I don't have problems or anything, obviously, but thing is: the anxiety is here to stay. The stimulation issues are here to stay. They’re just something that I need to make peace with and cope with. And I can do that — I have 20+ years of experience at this point of recognizing what makes me uncomfortable and finding alternative ways to go about it (ex: showering a certain way to avoid getting water in my eyes). But it requires time and space: if someone is constantly looking over your shoulder, telling you the “right” way to do things and harshly criticizing every little deviation from that (not to mention, constantly belittling you for having basic human emotions), you can’t make these little accommodations that make life so much more bearable!

And, so, I think it’d be best to start properly making plans to move out. (It's not that I wasn't planning to, but now it's an active goal, if that makes sense.) I don’t necessarily think she's been doing this on purpose, but it's really been destroying me and my sense of self... I have to take control of my own life and pull myself out of this accursed pit -- no one is going to do it for me!

...Easier said than done, of course. The job market is still shit. The therapist said I should aim toward sending in like five or so nice applications with cover letters and everything a week, and that seems like a nice goal to get the ball rolling. Also, my lack of self-esteem is definitely something I'll have to work on, as well… I'll continue reading that workbook. Ah, I feel like a new arc of my life is beginning, silly as that sounds...

Another thing I’ve been thinking about: I hardly ever talk in real life, and when I do, I’m just ignored, anyway. No one cares what I have to say. Which makes the unbelievably nice responses people have given me over this site all the more surprising: I’ve genuinely spent my whole life thinking I was incompetent and boring and had nothing of value to say at all, so all the compliments people have sent have really meant so much to me... <3 (sorry if that's a weird thing to say...)

Thursday | 05.16.24

Oh, wow, I have not been keeping up with writing journal entries at all, oops. I think I'll switch these layouts based on seasons rather than months and see how that works, instead. It still just feels so silly when you end up just having like one or two entries a month, y'know?

(×﹏×)

I've kind of been having a lot of emotional spirals recently... If left alone with my thoughts for too long, I'll just break down crying -- teetering closer to the edge of hopeless despair than usual. I feel stuck in life and I just don't know what to do...

I've actually started visiting a therapist and have gone to a few sessions already, with another scheduled in about two weeks, but it doesn't seem like that's actually going to yield any practical results. A combination of constant anxiety, perfectionism, and no self-esteem whatsoever -- they all feed into each other and make each other worse, leading to me being scared to do anything for fear of it not being perfect or otherwise not working out, and so, and so, and so... Hating yourself for not being able to do things perfectly --> having panic attacks, due to both anxiety and just how much you hate yourself --> what? you can't do [insert normal part of life here], you have panic attacks! --> hating yourself for not progressing in life --> more panic attacks, etc etc etc. I don't know if that makes sense... I feel like I'm in hell...

A few more rounds of rapidfire venting about various things going on in my life:

1. My living room is infested with ants. My mom makes fun of me for trying to avoid them. I just really, really, really do not like them crawling on me. I put out some baits, but you still occasionally see them. Beyond that: paranoia of ants crawling on you --> can't relax, constantly checking, getting made fun of for this --> growing anxiety and self-hatred.
2. I've had, like, an ear infection for over a month now? Or, I think it's an ear infection? At first, I thought my ear was just clogged due to allergies, but then: a) I got a really bad fever, which doesn't happen from allergies, b) the allergies have since cleared up, but the clogged ear remains. My hearing on that side is a bit muffled, but it doesn't hurt or anything while every other ear infection I've had has been unbearably painful, so I haven't bothered to go to the doctor. But, also, it's been over a month like this, so I just don't know.

(×﹏×)

Aside from that, I think I've gone out more in the last month or so than I have in the last year (excluding New Orleans, I guess). It was all just me getting invited to tag along with my mom when she's been hanging out with her friends, but it's been pretty nice! There was one friend who's been studying Spanish, and we helped her with flashcards, talked about linguistics & etymologies, etc. Another who recently moved to Florida and came back to visit. Also, went on a daytrip with my aunts to a city with some cute little shops, and I bought some paper that I think would work well for bookbinding.

Also, took part in a fic exchange on Dreamwidth! It was based around picking a fandom that no one else in the group was familiar with but wanted to check out, and I ended up really liking the short story that was chosen for it. There are still a few more days until the fics are revealed and a few more after that until authors are revealed, but I'll probably mention it in a future entry. Again, insert the previously mentioned perfectionism, etc issue here, but the characters and universe were fun to explore and I liked writing it, regardless. Most stuff I write ends up dying in "this isn't good enough to post" purgatory, so having an exchange where you're kinda pressured to take it easy and submit it anyway was nice, also.

And I've been working on a needle felting project that I'm excited about! Been waiting for some supplies I bought online to arrive, but the main figure is done (I might end up making a little friend for her also, though).