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Warning: serious baggage and venting. HEED this if other people's personal stuff might make you uncomfortable. I wasn't even sure I wanted to make this post visible.
I know this is a "journal", but I don't really like writing "me" posts. I use this place for fic. I'll talk about my writing until my eyes go crossed. I'll write about my family (they're hilarious, and on occasion fairly awesome). I don't like talking about me, though, or what's up with me. I always feel like I'm whining.
Because there's apparently a huge double standard, because I love reading about other people's lives, but whatever...
I'm seriously beginning to think I might have legitimate mental problems. Not just the "haha zombie porn" type, but the "potentially hazardous, unhealthy kind. And it's kind of hard for me to even state without feeling like an attention whore or a hypochondriac. Especially the latter, because I've come to realize I have a pretty harsh phobia where mental illness is concerned. (I know I've talked about that to a few people, but I can't remember who...)
Anymore it seems like I'll be on cloud nine one minute, and everything is good, and my stories are practically writing themselves, and I have all these ideas that I jot down notes for and promise myself that I'll get right on that... And then it just dries up, and I can't even decide which story I want to try and complete an entry of (let alone progress any of them more than a sentence or two), and my sense of self worth heads into the toilet. And of course it always seems right about that time that everyone in my household decides to start being hateful to each other, and I feel like I'm somehow expected to know what is going on in people's heads when nobody is talking to anybody else. It's so frustrating...
End result seems to be falling into this state where I hate life, have no drive, feel utterly hopeless. I'm sure a lot of that has to do with being in my late twenties and having done absolutely nothing with my life. And the effort it takes for me to muster the will to do anything sometimes makes it hard to feel like I ever will...
And I've found myself spending a lot of time distracted by the mental image of some kind of violence. It's not the wish to enact violence, mind, just the suggestion of the act. More than anything I think it's a sort of punctuation to whatever emotion I happen to be feeling at the time. I'm mad at a room mate so I experience kind of the suggestion of what it would be like to wrap my hands around the handle of a knife and slit her throat. Or I want to be out of whatever situation I'm in (listening to parents fight, wanting class to be over because all the time/money I'm spending on it feels like a waste of time) and I'll get the same sense, only slashing my own throat, or imagine a bullet ripping through my brain. Again, just as a sort of punctuation to the wanting to be out of that moment, like "I want to not think, that would do the trick".
I've talked to my family about my moods, the one time my thoughts got close enough to actual "intent", but not recently. Not recently enough to tell them that I worry that I've got actual mental health issues. Everyone's got their own problems, and I always feel like I'd be dumping shit on them that they don't need.
So...yeah. That.
Moving on, I want to show you something slightly surreal. It's one of those things that is funny, but at the same time not, and I hope it won't leave you as depressed as it did me:
Uteratti: Uterus Incorporation Services
The shit going on in politics right now pisses me off and freaks me out. My personal gender/sexual identity has always been sort of nebulous. I rarely consider myself anything. I guess I count as gender queer, I don't know. Funny, though, how hard it is not to feel like a woman when there's all these people out there deciding they get to threaten me with my own organs. Jesus...
I should probably go to bed. I need to be out of the house by six tomorrow. Early class. Image manipulation, which is okay, but... Normally I'd be just fine with sitting in front of a computer for four hours...but it's in a Mac lab. I hate Macs.
Edit: A follow-up.
I know this is a "journal", but I don't really like writing "me" posts. I use this place for fic. I'll talk about my writing until my eyes go crossed. I'll write about my family (they're hilarious, and on occasion fairly awesome). I don't like talking about me, though, or what's up with me. I always feel like I'm whining.
Because there's apparently a huge double standard, because I love reading about other people's lives, but whatever...
I'm seriously beginning to think I might have legitimate mental problems. Not just the "haha zombie porn" type, but the "potentially hazardous, unhealthy kind. And it's kind of hard for me to even state without feeling like an attention whore or a hypochondriac. Especially the latter, because I've come to realize I have a pretty harsh phobia where mental illness is concerned. (I know I've talked about that to a few people, but I can't remember who...)
Anymore it seems like I'll be on cloud nine one minute, and everything is good, and my stories are practically writing themselves, and I have all these ideas that I jot down notes for and promise myself that I'll get right on that... And then it just dries up, and I can't even decide which story I want to try and complete an entry of (let alone progress any of them more than a sentence or two), and my sense of self worth heads into the toilet. And of course it always seems right about that time that everyone in my household decides to start being hateful to each other, and I feel like I'm somehow expected to know what is going on in people's heads when nobody is talking to anybody else. It's so frustrating...
End result seems to be falling into this state where I hate life, have no drive, feel utterly hopeless. I'm sure a lot of that has to do with being in my late twenties and having done absolutely nothing with my life. And the effort it takes for me to muster the will to do anything sometimes makes it hard to feel like I ever will...
And I've found myself spending a lot of time distracted by the mental image of some kind of violence. It's not the wish to enact violence, mind, just the suggestion of the act. More than anything I think it's a sort of punctuation to whatever emotion I happen to be feeling at the time. I'm mad at a room mate so I experience kind of the suggestion of what it would be like to wrap my hands around the handle of a knife and slit her throat. Or I want to be out of whatever situation I'm in (listening to parents fight, wanting class to be over because all the time/money I'm spending on it feels like a waste of time) and I'll get the same sense, only slashing my own throat, or imagine a bullet ripping through my brain. Again, just as a sort of punctuation to the wanting to be out of that moment, like "I want to not think, that would do the trick".
I've talked to my family about my moods, the one time my thoughts got close enough to actual "intent", but not recently. Not recently enough to tell them that I worry that I've got actual mental health issues. Everyone's got their own problems, and I always feel like I'd be dumping shit on them that they don't need.
So...yeah. That.
Moving on, I want to show you something slightly surreal. It's one of those things that is funny, but at the same time not, and I hope it won't leave you as depressed as it did me:
Uteratti: Uterus Incorporation Services
The shit going on in politics right now pisses me off and freaks me out. My personal gender/sexual identity has always been sort of nebulous. I rarely consider myself anything. I guess I count as gender queer, I don't know. Funny, though, how hard it is not to feel like a woman when there's all these people out there deciding they get to threaten me with my own organs. Jesus...
I should probably go to bed. I need to be out of the house by six tomorrow. Early class. Image manipulation, which is okay, but... Normally I'd be just fine with sitting in front of a computer for four hours...but it's in a Mac lab. I hate Macs.
Edit: A follow-up.
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no subject
Date: Thursday, 12 April 2012 06:44 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: Thursday, 12 April 2012 07:01 am (UTC)From:Part of it for me is that I don't believe in a purely "theological" soul. The physical brain is an important part of how you function when you're alive, so it has to be important to whatever might happen after... So for me those chemical reactions are me. They're the most important thing that could possibly happen in my body, and no matter how unhappy I am, I don't think anyone should be tinkering with it.
My school includes limited counseling as part of my tuition. I've been thinking about taking advantage of it more and more...
But tonight I think I really just needed to vent.