The Dance Of The Brain Weasels

CN: depression, anxiety, ideations

Brain Weasels.  My term for when my brain starts trying to destroy the rest of me.  Depression, Anxiety, Trauma, fear of being alone and also fear of alienating others, all shove in and start making a mess of things.  They ruin my sleep schedule, fuck up my ability to do things, and the thoughts of self-destruction go from just being in the back of my mind to chittering in my ears.

Continue reading “The Dance Of The Brain Weasels”

The Dance Of The Brain Weasels
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Doubting My Sickness

First, check out this post by Misandry Angie about self doubt and chronic illness.

Read it? Good.

Now I’m about to get personal.

Medically, I am what is officially known as a “hot mess”. Fibromyalgia, depression. general anxiety, social anxiety, PTSD, sound sensitivity/misophonia, ADD, sleep apena, and to top it off, Borderline Personality Disorder.

It’s so much fun.  I’d party, but I’m too damned tired.  (and no, I’m not looking for suggestions.  Not the point of this post. I have a gang of doctors and a therapist. I have legal people helping me in the long process of filing for disability.  I’m handling shit)

Some days, the ‘good days’, I almost doubt my “Hot Mess” status.  “Hey, I got up and am just a little sore.  I don’t feel like a total failure who should run into traffic.  I might even leave the house today. Am I really that sick?”

And that gets me into trouble every single time. Because if I start to doubt, then I start worrying that I’m actually a big ol’ fraud.  That sure, I can look for a job right now and work and be productive and not a leech on society. Go you!

…and then the next day, or ever the next hour passes, and something breaks.  I’m tired because I went outside among people. Something happened and suddenly my okay mood spirals downward and I feel so worthless that I have to make myself sit down before I do something to myself.  Suddenly I’m nervous and shaky for no real reason, or for a silly reason, like my cat hopped off my desk and went for a nap, therefore he doesn’t like me anymore.

It comes back to me then. The hot mess-ness that is me.  The fact that I can type shit that people like and that makes sense when I can’t speak.  It’s hard, cats and kittens.

Real hard.

It’s hard to live in a world where your worth is based on what you can produce. It leaves people like me feeling worthless, and it leaves society thinking that we deserve less.  A pittance, tossed out like yesterday’s crumbs.  Not even the bare minimum to survive.

Because thinking that you’re a fraud sucks, but having society thinking it too is even worse.

Doubting My Sickness

“Begging for Attention” So?

CN: suicide attempt mention

 

I read a blog post attack the concept of “wanting attention is bad” and it made me think about when I was a kid.

Last year was the 20 year anniversary of my first suicide attempt. I was 14, miserable, didn’t see any escape from the life I had except for death.  I would lay in my bed and cry out of misery.

And no, I really didn’t have anyone at home to talk about it. Well, no one would actually help.

Two years after that event, my stepmother threw into my face that the doctor treating me during my mental hospital stay told my dad that I was “doing this for attention”.

(she also told me during that conversation that if I tried to kill myself, she’d help me take the pills.  I almost took her up on it, if I didn’t have plans of my own)

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“Stop typing and pet me more, you’ll feel better!”

Annnnyway, it took years for me to process that, and a few visits to a shrink to make me realize something about kids seeking attention.

So what?
I was a kid who thought death was preferable to living. As a KID. Even if I failed at it, how wasn’t that a cry for attention? I sure as fuck wasn’t getting it at home, hence the hard hit of depression, hence the attempt. Granted, I had been depressed for years prior, but it was two years building up of lacking the attention that would help me figure out my sense of self or security.
You’re damn right I wanted attention. And there was nothing wrong with that. Kids need attention, even when their ages start up in the double digits.  Preteens still need to know that they matter, that they are loved, that their needs are important too. They’re not tiny adults you can start shoving adult responsibilities onto and ignoring their needs.

And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be noticed.   This is very different from wanting to be in the center of everything. Why do we treat the former like the latter? We all desire to be noticed and acknowledged by our peers and families. Yes, even you Mr./Ms./Mx. “I don’t need society’s approval, I’m my own person”. A few days without acknowledgement of those around you, and you’d feel awful.  That’s why social media is a thing.  That’s why I’ve written so many words on this thing over like a year.

We’re kinda human like that.

So attention me, people! 🙂

 

“Begging for Attention” So?