It's been quite a while. Frankly, I just stumbled across this blog. I have a few floating around out there. That doesn't sound very bipolar at all, does it? A lot of projects started, but never completed or followed through on.
I don't know where I'm at on the spectrum right now. I don't even know what to say right now.
I was supposed to go visit a friend who was staying with her Mom who was dying. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I could not leave the house. I feel like such a disappointment and shitty person who can't be counted on to be there for someone when they are hurting.
Just like the CoAd get-together. Couldn't bring myself to leave the house.
Why am I like this? I want to spend time with people. But when it comes to following through and actually doing it, I get scared and don't go. I don't know what I'm afraid of. Saying something stupid. Having nothing worthwhile to contribute to a conversation. Awkward silences. Can I keep my mouth shut and not talk about myself for a change? Yeah, that's asking a lot, isn't it?
Next month is our company yearly conference. Every year I chicken out and don't go to the evening events (except Awards Night - that's required, but even then I leave the minute it is over).
I feel so awkward. Alone even though I'm in a large group of people - or even when I'm with only a few. I feel like an alien in human skin who doesn't know how to fake being a "normal" human.
I thought of the tiny dancers. I wanted to fantasize about them, but I'm afraid that would be a *TRIGGER WARNING* moment that I shouldn't encourage. Although they are there, on the very, very edge of my vision. Twirling, spinning about. Enticing me to follow them.
Yet, I turn away. Grudgingly so, but I do.
I try so hard to remain positive. Buried deep inside is a despair and hopelessness which could become consuming if I even allow a little glimpse into that abyss. Things I can't change, I don't have the courage to change, or lack the wisdom to know the difference.
Acceptance. What a big little word. Comfortable in one's skin. Alien. Not foreign, foreign implies coming from somewhere acknowledged. Alien is from somewhere people don't like to acknowledge or pretend doesn't exist.
Some pressure is off at work. It's a very brief lull. I'm trying very hard to stay focused and productive.
Do I make excuses because of my illness or does my illness result in explanations? I'd like to think I try hard to keep up with the rest of the world. But I also admit, I'm getting older. I can feel myself slowing down, finding it harder to keep up with the rest of the herd. It's harder for things to sink in. I'm afraid of losing my job.
--freeflow 6/25/2018
