A lot has happened!
I’m almost finished my postgraduate qualification, I’ve broken up with my boyfriend, and I’ve gone insane.
I’m surrounded, day in and day out, by people who insist that being emotional and unstable is one of the worst things a person can be. I agree, if you’re talking about being mad in the workplace. Damn right! That shit should be kept in line.
However, I would like to publicly state on this God Damn blog: I AM NOT OKAY.
I suffer from crippling anxiety, low self esteem and a host of other weird OCD, bipolar and borderline tendencies. I’m pretty open about in conversation, but the problem is that unless I’m around family or close friends, I remain very calm and good-natured and sensible. This means that people don’t believe me when I warn them that I’m essentially… an unhinged mad-woman. Tough luck, motherfuckers.
What triggered my metamorphosis into the fucking Joker?
1. The Break-up.
I decided that things weren’t working out with my boyfriend of four years, and I broke-up with him. It seemed like a clear-cut decision at the time: Our interactions were routine, we were terse with one another and argued a lot, the sex wasn’t good, and we just didn’t get along much in general. Now of course (duh!) I’m plagued by guilt, and I’m so lonely that I just feel like jamming my face into a pillow and screaming until I can’t any more.
I miss having someone there. I miss having someone to hug me, or someone who I could just relax around and talk to if I wanted. I know that that isn’t what a relationship should be based on, but it appears as if that companionship really provided me with a lifeline that I wasn’t aware of until it was gone.
While I know that our romantic relationship wasn’t succeeding, I really miss my Ex as a friend! He was funny, kind and expressive. I hate what I’ve done to him, and I hate myself for it. I really, really hate myself for it.
Thanks to point number one, I’ve lost the main source of company and reassurance in my life. It’s been there for almost half a decade, and I hadn’t anticipated how shit it would be to have to go without it. This isn’t your everyday gloomy want for company. It’s that endless, crushing feeling you get when you know that there is absolutely no-one in your life. I have my two best friends, but (as I’ve mentioned before) they have their own issues to deal with, and can only provide so much support or attention before they themselves start feeling crazy. Other than them, I have no close family members (not even ones that I could try and be close to). No role models, no psychologist, no nothing.
I am so, so lonely.
3. Problems that were there before.
Anxiety and low self esteem have evolved under the influence of an overly competitive University environment, and I’ve now become paranoia. I can’t go one day without becoming obsessed with whether or not people think I’m stupid, or mean, or hideous. I feel like a shell of a person, because I have so little energy to spend on just being myself. I’m not even entirely sure what “myself” is!! I’m constantly flitting between extremes like “I’m smart” and “I’m a fucking idiot!”, or, “I’m nice!” and “I’m a horrible, horrible person who will never be loved by anyone!”. Etc.
My mother is still being my mother, and the usual coping mechanisms I employ when she’s at her worst have gone flying out of the window for the time being. This results in at least one fight a day, hooray!
My eating habits have completely gone to seed. During the week, I eat the equivalent of one or two pickles a day, plus the usual egg for breakfast. It means I’ve lost a lot of weight (hoo-fucking-rah), but it isn’t in a good way. I’m shaky and tired, and can barely focus on anything.
Dead-dad syndrome! Probably thanks to my inability to process my father’s death like a normal human being, for the past month I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s as if I have PTSD! The unavoidable recurring memories are the worst.
4. Hello, depression! :D
The above three things have resulted in me sinking into a lovely state of depression, with a side of nut-job.
…I don’t know what to do.