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The Great Disappointment

My first heartbreak was when I was 11 or 12 years old.
I met him at church and he was the most beautiful person I'd ever had the pleasure to lay my eyeballs on. He was unironically cool and has shoulder-length curler hair and a side-smile that made me melt.
He smoked (he was my age), and well, after months of me secretly crushing on him, he tells me he likes me too.
I'm skipping straight to this, even though it felt like an eternity of pining before that, in which I had accepted no one as beautiful and glorious as that would look twice at me. There were many girls my age who seemed to have an adult's knowledge of style.
I looked like an awkward tween, my monobrow and mo was doing me no favours.
And yet.
And yet.
And then, to gloss over our months of bliss (I want to keep that to myself for now), my mum found out about us, and made me break up with him.
I could've lied to her and kept seeing him behind her back, but I was a trained obedient kid and I didn't want to …
Recent posts

22. music as a metaphor or something

A few weeks ago I asked my facebook friends for their happy-bouncy song recommendations because I was in a dark place and I thought it was a way of reaching out, of engaging with people in a meaningful way because I didn't want to be alone.

And more people sent me recommendations than I expected, and friends who I didn't think would respond (as well as people who didn't respond that I assumed would. huh. anywho...)

When I tried some of the jams, they didn't click with me.

They didn't give me the joy that I was looking for, nor the joy that my happy-bouncy songs give me.

But they give joy to other people.

Though I can understand that that's possible, I didn't feel that truth. I just know it to be true because I believe it when my friends told me that these songs mean something to them. That it makes them happy. That it connected with them and brought out good feels.

And though I gave them more than one listens, some songs just didn't... feel good.

And it…

15. Media Outrage

I don't watch M*** H*******'s segment on whatever news outlet he works for. The only time I see his resting stress face is when he's said something particularly inflamatory and he makes it onto my social media, with the people I follow outraging. Calling him stupid, posting their rebuttal (sometimes well-reasoned arguments, sometimes just dragging his name and face and dumb opinions through the mud).

The thing is, sometimes, just sometimes, I can't resist the tempatation of being included in what's going on.

It never feels good. He doesn't make me sad, he makes my insides churn with fear and anger. Fear because though he, personally and directly, doesn't physically put me in immediate danger, he's sharing an opinion many people have. Those people keep such views secret because of the public ridicule they'll recieve from the mainstream left and "progressive". But some may hold it to more violent extremes and him sharing his views on a verif…

02. First Session

I've had my first session with the psychologist and it was really standard and basic.

But I didn't hate it.

There were times when I wanted to say I KNOW! But I never could. That would be rude.

I smiled and nodded and zoned out sometimes.

I get six free sessions.

My second one is next week.

I'll give him two more chances and if I don't feel its useful. I'll use my three free sessions elsewhere...

I'm meeting up with an old friend tonight.

This can be a subject for small talk surely.

01. Low Mood

Following on from my last post, I've been to the doctor.
It was a shit visitation experience.
The person who booked my appointment actually didn't. They managed to get me an appointment from an hour later, I waited for an hour AFTER that scheduled appointment and it turns out the doctor I was scheduled to wasn't even in that day. Another admin fuckup.
Then they got me a doctor in 2 mins.
He was unhelpful and asked me vague and broad questions and I didn't know what he needed to hear so I gave vague and broad answers and he told me I had:
What the fuckity fuck fuck was that?

He said all I needed to do was eat well, exercise, and do one thing every day that makes me happy.  A hobby. Perhaps that hobby could be exercise.
He said it's probably not depression but there's this questionnnaire I could do to find out.
Oh well, maybe just do it, just to see.
I scored 15 points.
I don't know where that lies on the scale but it turns out I qualify …

Getting Help

I feel miserable all the time.
I'm going to see the doctors on Monday. I need help. But more importantly, I want help.
My deep sadness has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I remember being a deeply sad child. I cried myself to sleep many times.
It affecting my work.
And I wish I cared about my well-being for my own sake. But the truth is, it's stopping me from doing things that I want to do. Or maybe I'm just lazy and there's nothing stopping me from doing what I want to do?

I'm not sure, but I don't want this guilt, or self-pity, or self-doubt to hang over everything I do.
I want to talk to a professional.
Wish me luck x

paralyzing fear

i'm scared that i'm not good enough

i'm scared that not being good enough means being tossed aside; disposable

i'm scared that people will not trust me

i'm scared they'll laugh behind my back

i'm scared they'll laugh to my face

i'm scared of being a disappointment

i'm scared of being yelled at