Discussion in 'January And Everything After' started by Elyscape, Dec 10, 2012.
Had you been avoiding him, though? Or just not doing anything to keep in touch?
Obviously I can't say much about the situation, since I don't really know anything about it, but my gut reaction is that your old friend over-reacted. Maybe I'm just a cynic, but I generally don't expect to keep in touch with people for more than a few years (at most). I mean, it's almost a cliche how after your school years people unintentionally drift apart, no matter how close they were. I can sympathize with how you're feeling, since I'm a pretty horrible friend. In most instances, I don't really care because the people in question aren't that important to me (cold, but true). But at those times when it is someone I really care about, and I fall through, I feel horrible. Sometimes it's rightly so, but I don't think that's the case for you. I don't know if this will make you feel any better, and I really hope I didn't offend you with my two cents (if so, it was unintentional, and I apologize), but I hope you don't beat yourself up over it too much.
Also, rejection sucks no matter who you are. Even I hate getting rejected. But you can't help it. People are people, and they're gonna do what they're gonna do, and you just gotta try to not let it take too much of a toll on you /hugs
Cleaned the house (sans my mother's room because I'm not allowed in there). Spent hours doing it. Felt great, like I accomplished something.
and then my mom comes home and ruins the feeling and "you never do anything" and i am this close to smushing my head into my pillow and refusing to come up for air ever again because a person can handle being told things like that for only so long. even if you try to ignore it, hearing it still causes things and eaugh eaugh eaugh
I know that I have a serious problem when I have a meltdown over being unable to exercise away a burger.
yes okay it's time to go get help
and i swear to god if that man tells me to "ignore the fear" again i'm whopping him in the face because that shit ain't working
Plus: new job, great pay.
Neg: don't get paid until 14 days after rent is due.
Every so often I get paranoid. This time it's about having my stuff stolen. I already had an anti-theft travel wallet, complete with chain, so I pulled that out. (I bought it during a previous paranoid episode.) Today I got in a box from Amazon with an anti-theft backpack in it. I'm so excited. It's got locking zippers and it's slashproof and has all these cool features, plus it's got an iPad slot. It's a nice bag even without the anti-theft features, but it's safe and safe is good.
I'm so strange sometimes...
I think I should probably move out of my house now.
I don't have money to move out with and I don't have much to my name, but I really need to get out of this house. At this point, I am actually trying to make excuses to myself to not be in my home at the same time as my mother. And while I can't say that she hits/beats me (anymore), it's like...
It kind of feels awful to accomplish something that I've been terrified of doing for so long and then come home to be shot down.
I managed to get into a class today. Child Development 2. I'm ecstatic. I got in by sheer luck and I'm just so glad that I did. I was happy because my mother could finally stop saying "what do you need rest for, you're not going to school or anything". I could finally tell her that I am going to school and I am making something of myself.
I get home and, at first, she's eerily polite.
THEN SUDDENLY, BAM.
"It's not like you're doing anything."
"I AM GOING TO SCHOOL AND WORK PART-TIME."
"But you're only doing things half-way. I wouldn't be like that when I was in college."
that's bad in and of itself. but then she goes one step further and actually calls my boyfriend stupid because he's willing to pay for me to go out and visit him in the summer.
"He's not very bright is he? Why is he paying for vacation for someone who doesn't deserve it? It's not like you have work."
I already can't stand that she insulted him, but... I mean, I don't need her to accept me. I don't care if she doesn't accept me. But is it so much to ask to be respected? Is it? When I tried to tell her that I'm not going to listen to her when she says those things anymore, she brought up something that I said, and apologized for, three years ago. Then promptly told me that the shirt I was wearing (i had to borrow one of her turtlenecks because i don't have warm clothes) needed to come off. Right then and there.
So that put me in the position of:
- in nothing but underwear (which is goddamn humiliating; who makes a person strip to near-nothing to assert power over them?!)
- fucking cold
Obviously, I am not still sitting here in that condition, but...
i need to leave this house. I need to leave this house. I have to leave this house. I can't keep feeling horrible and fucking vulnerable in my house. I should be able to relax, not constantly expect a vile woman to swoop into the room, make me feel like shit, then swoop right back out.
in a bad place and struggling to get out. again.
*hugs* Good luck. Do you have anyone you could stay with until you got an apartment or something?
NOT REALLY? Not right now, anyway. Not in a realistic way.
I really wish it would be possible for me to help you more directly, because you certainly deserve whatever can be given.
I realize that the situation is complex, but if capital is a major matter then I would suggest setting up a donation option - I certainly wouldn't mind helping in that way.
Can't you call your bank what's going on and ask them to give you an overdraft just this time ? I've done that last time our accountant was sick and my pay was late...
I am such a dumbass. Last year I started having panic-attacks (I'd quite college and was unemployed, I didn't know what to do with myself and at night I'd start to hyperventilate). I haven't had a fullblown panic-attack in almost a year now. Last night I had trouble sleeping because my heart kept pouncing, and at the dinnertable I mentioned that I was scared it was going to be a panic-attack (it ended up not being one, but all day today I still felt my heartbeat magnified). Except I'd not told my parents about it last year. So now my mom said she's kind of shocked to hear it (her brother has frequent panic-attacks and she's always worried about him), and it's so dumb because nothing is wrong and now I made her worry for no real reason. Stupid gigantic mouth.
Is this your house or your mothers house? If it is her house maybe you can get some assistance to be able to get away from it. It may not be physical abuse, but what she is doing is still an abusive situation. Wish there was something more we could all do to help because it breaks my heart to read what you are going through.
Yeah, holy shit. You're mom is nuts. That's such a clearly identifiable and large problem that I would think you might want to have your depression diagnosis reevaluated after you get out of that situation.
You know, at my age, I should know better than try to talk about gender and sexual orientation with my familly.
Don't talk about gender and sexual orientation with my familly.
Maybe explain to your mother that panic attacks are like (pick one) [diarrhea/heartburn] for your brain. You take in information, and food, and when you eat a bunch of spicy food and go drinking, you expect it. But sometimes, without warning, you just get it anyways. People get diarrhea a lot. Because your colon and your liver and your intestines are organs, and they don't always work perfectly every time. Brain's an organ, too. She knows that epilepsy is a thing, right? How can epilepsy be a real thing but panic attacks can't? It's not the end of the world but worrying you are going to get one isn't exactly nothing. In fact, I'm sure the other panic attack people here can attest, worrying that you will get a panic attack is far from nothing. The worry itself can shut you out of social situations, work functions, grocery shopping, you name it.
Also, if you hear your heartbeat too often, you might be dehydrated. Don't ask, only know that I go out drinking a lot.
Third, I know it sucks, but don't tell people things if you don't want them to be able to use them to hurt you. Some people get all access, and some motherfuckers just ain't cleared to know shit. As much as we want to be able to tell our mothers everything, that is not in the cards. The things they say to us carry greater weight that what our friends say, so the same comment from your friend wouldn't have you so upset with yourself. Think of it this way, your friends knowing your current boyfriend cheated on you and you are working it out is embarrassing, in the hands of your mother, that fact is a deadly weapon and destructor of untold Christmases.
Moms want to see their children happy, with some obvious exceptions, of course. And they raised us, and they have been quite a bit more intelligent than we are for large parts of our lives, but that isn't because they are preternaturally wise, it's because we were stupid, because for the first twenty years of our relationships with our mothers, we were children. We used to want to marry raccoons and wear pants on our arms. During that time, we had an opportunity to idealize our parents. Parents are great, and they deserve a lot of respect, and they should be idealized to a point, but we need to remember that they are human, and just like there are some things you can't handle hearing, there are some things they can't process, either.
Think of something where you absolutely would not accept your mother's opinion on a subject as valid or informative. For instance; Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, flash in the pan or next big thing? Now, file your mother's opinion on panic attacks in the same drawer.
Everyone has some stuff that they feel a burning need to discuss with their parents. Because they have seen you shit your pants several hundred times and knew you when you couldn't spell and thought Frankensteins lived in your attic, they are unlikely to accept your opinion as definitive. You do what everyone else does. You hold your tongue for fifty years like an good little Argentinian with a German last name and then as you wheel them into a retirement home, you whisper to them that they will have to accept you as a ____ if they ever want to see you again. But don't say blank, the blank is where you say what you are, be it lesbian, gay, transgender, Fountainhead reading Objectivist, furry, etc.
This is a great metaphore actually, but it isn't so much that my mom doesn't know what a panic attack is like. I wasn't really all that clear about it (I was in a rush typing that post, should've put more thought into it), but the thing with my uncle is pretty complicated. So complicated that this sort of is trigger for her, since she doesn't want me to go down the same path as him. With that comes that mental health issues run in her family so she's all too familier with it.
I figured that it was probably a combination of this and that I was still upset about an argument with a friend I had a couple of days ago. It's why I said it was 'nothing'. Not entirely true of course, but way better than an actual panic attack.
Part of this is true, but I have to say, I doubt she'll ever use this against me, not even unintentional. She's a pretty smart lady, even if I strip the idealization away.
Edit: Thanks for the long response in any case. It's especially useful for some of my friends, who just know jack shit about panic attacks.
Yeah, I figured that she knew what they were, on account of her brother, but that she was at once sensationalizing the attacks themselves and also dismissing your fear of having one as so far beneath actually having one as not to merit mention. Panic attacks ruin your day, fear of panic attacks can ruin your life.
I don't like talking about this, but it's probably good for me to do so.
I cannot shake the belief that everyone despises me. Not dislikes - genuinely, passionately, hates.
It doesn't matter how I'm interacting with them - when I notice strangers speaking, my first assumption is that they're sharing their disgust at me, or something I've done.
When I'm interacting with friends or family - on good terms; what is hypothetically pleasant - my assumption with every little bit of positivity - let alone any kind of outright compliment - is that it's bullshit. Putting on a show for some bizarre reason, because of course it's bullshit, why wouldn't it be? On some level - I cannot conceive of others as holding anything but antipathy to me.
And I don't care. I don't let myself care. Because why should I care? They have no use for me, so I have to have no use for them.
And if I allow myself to care, it's staggering. I'm worthless, well and truly worthless, in the eyes of anyone but myself. So I don't feel. I don't give myself that luxury, because it's an opening, and it'll lead to nothing good.
Everything I do, I have to do alone. Because anyone else wouldn't waste their time with me unless they had an ulterior motive; whatever that is, it can't be trusted.
When I can't do something by myself - I do it anyway, no matter what the consequences are. I can't ask for help, because no one will help. And I don't doubt that this is going to kill me, eventually - but that's of no interest to anyone but me, is it?
I don't even know why I'm typing this - I'm going to come across as completely insincere, attention-whoring among people with legitimate problems.
Come up here.
Borrow $68 from whoever you have to, pack your biggest backpack, and come up here. I may not be in much of a position to help, but you know you have friends here, and you know that if your mom comes to the door while you're staying at my place I will bust out the rolling pin.
...and of course, I'm posting this while I'm having serious trouble getting up off the floor because sometimes the universe is just too much. Goddamn it, brain.
It's her house. And I feel like I can't get assistance because we're both adults? Like, they would be like "well shit man, you're 21, why the fuck don't you just up and leave?"
Afti , first off, you are not coming off as any of those things. Everyone hurts sometimes and this is a safe place to talk about it. Never, ever, ever worry about that being an issue.
Second, sounds like you have trust issues. Dunno if it stems from something, but if it does, you don't have to share if you don't want to. Just want to say that you are not worthless and I don't hate you because you're a person and a pretty damn rad one, okay? Even if you think that I won't help, if you ever need help, feel free to ask me. I can't do too much, but I will do what I can because helping others is the right thing to do. No ulterior motives, I promise. /gigaaaaantic hug
Speak With Bread , baby, I am incredibly grateful for the offer, but if I were to move in with other people/crash onto their couch for a while, I would rather have more of a plan behind it. I'm in a tough place, but I've still got to plan reasonably before throwing myself under onto a bus.
Afti . If you feel like talking, I'm here. No judging. I think you're really awesome, by the way, and I get excited when I see that you've posted something. Just thought I'd let you know, even if you might not believe me. But I hope you do, because I'm being sincere. :)
Afti, I've felt that way before. It fucking hurts, and you have all my sympathies. ((hug)) I've forgotten,do you have a therapist? they can help sometimes.
MulMizu. Listen to
Speak With Bread. I bet her couch is comfy enough, and you could probably find a job pretty quickly. Maybe even a job that lets you sit down more often. Do it.
It doesn't hurt to check at least, and if you are like me and don't want to check for fear of rejection I am sure someone here would be more then willing to make a few phone calls or do some web searches for you. No matter what your age is you should not have to be stuck in an abusive situation like this.
You are shy. Lots of people say that they are shy. They're not just, they're just not social butterflies. What you are, that's shy. It's like the opposite of squeamish in the sense that lots of people are squeamish, but nobody likes to think they are squeamish. My mom and my brother faint dead away at the sight of blood, my dad gets close. It's funny. Ask them, they're not squeamish. Ask me, as I am the one cleaning up blood and vomit for people at parties, I say they're squeamish.
You know that goddamn Morrissey or Smith's song about, "I am the son, and the heir, to a shyness that is criminally vulgar...blah blah blah." Yeah, apart from the fact that Morrissey sang it to tens of thousands of people a night while posing with his shirt open and making radio appearances during the day, it's a pretty good description of how being shy feels. My heart goes out to you if you're shy, because it's a lot more satisfying and hell, common, to be off kilter the other way, where you think everybody fucking loves you.
Lemme break the shyness thing down in more real world terms. People listen to Nickelback. People pay eighty bucks to rent a babysitter, get a nice dinner, buy fifteen plastic Miller Lites, another seventy for the tickets, fifty bucks for a shirt and a pair of Nickelback panties, and then they have a memory they will cherish forever.
So why the fuck should you care what people think? People like Nickelback. People fought to protect slavery, it's somebody's job to make chia pets, still. In 2013. You've got to feel, down beneath where you understand things, and waaay beneath the place where you know things, that this could be fun. Because when people give you compliments, a lot of the time, they are bullshit, but you know what? That means they cared enough about you to give you a bullshit compliment. You know who gets told their new haircut looks great? Every fucking woman I know on this goddamn green earth.* You know who doesn't? Strangers. So quit being a stranger and get in on that sweet, sweet compliment action.
Also, people have different tastes than you, some of the compliments you think are bullshit, aren't. Wearing a shirt your grandma got you? Someone tell you that you look good? Probably full of shit, right? No, poofy cardigans on men are in right now. Think you can't sing? Might be right. You know who else can't sing? Thom Yorke, Bob Dylan, Morrissey, not like a traditional chorus girl, they can't. Maybe you write ass bad poems. Maybe they are awesome, I can't help you on that, because I don't know shit about poetry.
What I am saying is; if you think someone pays you a bullshit compliment, pay em right back. I like your shirt! Oh yeah, well, I think your shoes are pretty good. Ha, instant revenge! Seriously though, being a person is hard work, and we could all use a little smoke up our ass from time to time.
*To all the ladies, you are fantastic and I want to talk about clothes.
I'm having a bad day.
So IVF round 2, fail. We went from 11 eggs to 5 fertilized embryos, with 2 for implantation, to zero, nada, nothing. Couldn't freeze the 3 extra embryos, as they just petered out and stopped growing, and the 2 that were implanted didn't work either.
So all that work, the multiple shots a day, pills and patches, and nothing. My wife is devastated, and there is not much I can do.
Oh and work has been suckin', just to really drive the knife in.
Oh, and my wife has the car, so she has to hold it together long enough to pick me up, I can't go to her.
You both have my sincerest condolences.
Don't give up! No matter how hard it may seem, just think about how wonderful the reward will be if you keep trying. Hugs to both you and your wife.
IVF isn't cheap, it's not something we can just keep trying.
I'm really sorry. Well there be a round three?
TBD. She has to continue taking her meds til the end of the cycle, then we have to meet with the docs, and hopefully get more information on why things failed. My wife wants to do another round though, so we'll probably try again.
Thanks for the concerns and sympathy likes.
Hey - just to put this in a better context, this is a legitimate problem. It's every bit as legitimate as anything anyone else has posted. That's part of the insidious nature of the problem that you're dealing with - it's undermining your own ability to recognize it as a "real" problem and not just some stupid bullshit that you need to sack up and get over.
You have friends a few hours north. This would be a big change for you and would take you away from school,* but it is an option.
* unless it's online in which case fuck yeah grrrrrl bring your puff up here!
You are awesome. You know how I know? This is how I know. Silly way to measure value? Fuck that, you are awesome.
Posts like this put my life in perspective. Sorry to hear about this situation.
Hello, I'm not sure if this is better suited for the General Relationship Thread or not but I think since this specific and not general I'll put it here.
The situation is as such, and this is a multiple year condensed version.
- long distance friend ship turns to court ship turns to engagement
- lay off causes relocation which lands us in same city and country
- live together, partner gets job at the same place I am working
- partner swings into deep depression, has to leave work for a few months
- partner is now back at work part time
We've known each other for 7+ years, a couple for 4 and now engaged for just under 3 years. There has been a history of depression and a suicide attempt way before we met in any capacity.
Now, depression is not a spectator sport, at least I've not found that it is living with someone you plan on spending your life with. The past year has been tough, they are getting weekly appointments to adjust medication and consoling. I'm doing monthly consoling even though I don't think I'm depressed (edit: after writing this I probably am) but I am definitely frustrated and sad. Assuming you can you be sad and not depressed.
Here we are a year after we figured the depression started based on hindsight and console prodding. There has been let's of steps and I'd like to think there is progress. However, we're still at the point where there are weekly night(s) spent with them crying in my arms with me arguing against their 'wishes to be dead'. Also, during the recovery so much of their energy is taken up being functional enough to go to work, when we get home, all they can do is spend time to themselves leaving none to spend with me
Most of the advice I've gotten from the consolers has been to be open and honest with myself and my partner, and have a time line for myself. This kind of depression is not a short hop and with the history of it it's going to be a constant thing for the rest of their life. The time line for me is a soft way of being told I need to have an internal deadline to the relationship that if there isn't enough improvement to meet my needs that I should exit the relationship for my own health.
I'm just terrified by that prospect, I'm not worried about what I'd do with a break, my profession allows me to pick employee pretty easily and I could move back to the states and have a job once my current professional obligations are finish at the end of the summer. Long story short, I know I'll be okay. The terrifying part is what will happen if I leave my partner, would they have some to cook, drive, comfort, anchor, etc... if I leave? Would they be able to go into the office where I once worked after leaving and be the question on everyone's mind? Would their parents (who love me, and see them as a screw up) be a source of guilt and not supportive?
Is there any amount of time that can be deemed 'long enough' for me to wait? How could I ever get over it if they did hurt themselves?
What do I do with all these feels?
Sympathy like, that's rough.
I am a little scared of driving. That's a rather significant understatement.
It's not that I'm scared of cars, but I'm scared of personally driving. I'm scared that my reactions aren't fast enough, or that I'll forget important things, or that I'll reflexively do the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time. I'm scared that my family will criticize my driving constantly, like they do with each other. I'm scared that I'll get in an accident, even if it's not my fault, but I'll always feel like it was anyway because I was the one driving.
My father really wants me to learn to drive. He won't accept me not learning how to drive. It is an essential life skill (and really, I know I should, but I just...). I am going for driving lessons. This weekend. In the middle of winter.
I feel like a fucking idiot, because goddamnit I learned to fly a plane this summer! Why can't I just suck it up and learn to drive? Everyone thinks it's going to be easier. It's probably easier.
But the thing is that there's not as much traffic in the sky, and you can drift a little bit, and there are two sets of controls so your copilot can always help out if you fuck up. The thing is that I can't shake the feeling of being safer in an airplane, knowing exactly how everything works, knowing I can try the maneuver or the landing or the turn again and nobody is judging me, I'm not holding up traffic, I'm not fucking up something that everyone else seems to learn naturally.
I don't like the idea of driving, and I'm depressed that I'm going to have to (even if it's a really childish thing to not want to do).
I don't have any definitive answers, but I will say from personal experience that this kind of thinking is a dangerously slippery slope. You cannot make yourself wholly responsible for someone else's well-being at the cost of all your own sanity and happiness and peace of mind. Your partner doesn't even want that - nobody wants to be so burdensome. And depression or not, staying in a relationship out of a feeling of obligation rather than trust, love, or affection would generally lead to both people being miserable in the long run.
It sounds cruel and heartless, but you're spot-on that that's what the timeline is there for - to make sure you are honest with yourself about your ability to cope with that strain. Because if you're not honest, and you can't cope, you aren't doing your partner any favors. Even staying with them despite your own potential misery - which may sound noble and caring and the right thing to do - can actually deny your partner the opportunity to heal, to stand on their own, or to find a better relationship with someone else where they could be happier, if it comes to that.
I hope it's clear that I don't mean "break up right now!" The situation sounds like it's far from that point, but reading your thoughts about "what if I leave, how could they manage without me" sets off some alarms on my end.
First: holy shit you know how to fly a plane?!? You just became even more awesome.
Yes, driving a car is way, way easier. You're only moving in two dimensions, for one thing. :) No ailerons! No pitch or yaw!
If you can learn to fly, you can easily learn to drive. It's really straightforward. (Gas, brake, wheel. Done.) But it sounds like you have more of a (forgive the term) performance anxiety related to driving, rather than a fear that cars are somehow extraordinarily complicated. You mention fear of judgement, criticism, and worries that you're making other drivers mad and the like. I don't know where you are, but chances are, you could find some country roads that have very little traffic on them, and practice there for a while before easing yourself into busier areas that have more intersections, lights, etc.
IIRC, you're still pretty young, right? I don't know how they handle things in beautiful downtown Canadia, but down here, driver's education is generally a junior - senior year in high-school thing, and the cars of those students learning to drive are clearly labeled. Nobody is going to expect you to be a Formula 1 professional while you're just starting to learn.
Separate names with a comma.