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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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Re: p2
Date: Wednesday, 18 April 2012 04:50 pm (UTC)From:I have the exact same problem. That's why meditating never worked for me either. At some point someone even tried to coach me through it and I couldn't help laughing at myself all through it. I think I gave *her* a need for therapy in the end. :P
Oh, well. Then I might be of gender queer. It's not that i'm hesitating or am not sure of myself right now, but I think I might be less and less sexually attracted to men. Or, not even not attracted. I am, and I get aroused by some too, but I am not 'pleased'. So... it lead me to wonder: do *they* all suck (aka "Dude, you really know how to pick'em.") or am I just hetero-romantic and bi-sexual?
It's not that I'm still searching. I have a fix theory and likely a fixed way for now, I just have a definite lack of personal life and therefore evidence to back that theory.
Thanks for the clarifications though, I didn't know all those specific had names.
*snort* Please, writting guys is not necessarely a desire to be one. I think they're just simpler minds (*dodges punches from guys all around the world*). I think I ring most true when I write gay men, go figure. Or maybe they're not simpler, but less annoying? Typical female psyche? Ugh.
I think feeling female and feeling girly are very different. I feel female most of the time (though I often don't feel human while doing so), and maybe sometimes I'm just a being, like you said, abstract. But sometimes I feel girly and I, for some aspects, like it.
When i'm doing cliché girly stuff. Like... finding Taylor Swift adorable even though I hate myself for it because I'm way past fifteen. Or jonesing for someone's shoes. Or when I look at a drawer full of clothes and I just don't feel like any of them. (*fp* dude, you're poor, roll with it) Or when I remember Steve Carlson's concert and I just get chills everytime I think of the moment I shook his hand and he knew I existed (because he was saying hi to me) in the world and wow, those eyes. *passes out*
(It's weird. I mock fans who break down when they meet celebrities, or shriek at concerts or stuff. And I didn't at the time. I was a little shy, because even if he's not Madona, you know, he's used to fans and probably doesn't give a shit about one more. But he was nice, and his voice. It's just a rumbling purr that gets to me. Imagine shaking Castiel's hand and having him croon "Hey there. Nice to meet you." with a smile and his EYES on you. Guh.
Not like meeting Misha, though. Misha just told me I could strip for him if I wanted. rofl)
See. Girly. FANgirly. *headdesk*