Easy to break

I’m pretty certain that I am afraid to get stressed out now. I mean seriously stressed out; like how it was back in high school, crying before I left every morning, migraines. I don’t want to go through that again. So I avoid over doing the homework and study time now, but it results in losing motivation you know? If the pressure is not constant, everything I must do is half hearted and feels even more like a waste of time and effort. The prize doesn’t seem worth it.

On the other hand I break more easily now under stress, and now that I’ve seen how far I can fall, I’m concerned that any pressure that goes further than my limits will erase the mental strength I am still trying to build up. I’m basically saying I am fragile when facing stress in my life now. Maybe I’m just too sensitive to everything….I remember how someone criticizing me as a kid could cause me to melt into tears. You know, the kind of crying that you’ve got no kind of control over….and the worst part is I wasn’t above crying in front of other people. They never said a damn thing to me anyway, why should I have cared about them seeing me as a weak child? It’s what I was…lol.

I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should accept that I am just an unhappy person. A person with a melancholic temperament….or someone who knows deep down that sadness is what I really thrive on. Emotion is what I thrive on, and I say sadness because it affects what I do more than any other emotion. It’s rarely happiness; in fact, I don’t know the typical kind of happiness that is all smiles. Joy and excitement and things like that are rare. I’m by myself so often, and all I have are past memories, embarrassments and negativity to dwell on. It’s just a part of me now I guess. These pills only rob me of emotion. I’m numb, tired, lazy, and actually feel worse the more I take them. Zoloft is approved to treat social anxiety, but in my opinion, it can only help out with the physical responses to anxiety. And guess what: I have those symptoms still in social situations. In the beginning it was working. I didn’t tremble or sweat or have heart palpitations so badly, now, it’s all returned. That’s why they always recommend therapy for SA because it’s a behavioral thing that needs to be worked on. Medication can help with the symptoms and extra complications like depression that stems from the SA, but there needs to be practice when dealing with the thoughts and reactions associated with it.

Sure, I could be causing these issues for myself from lowering the dosage a bit, but even before that, the effects were waning pretty noticeably. I’ve already written enough about all of this haven’t I….Well, I’ll end with some quotes:

“We have no right to ask when a sorrow comes, ‘Why did this happen to me?’ unless we ask the same question for every joy that comes our way.” —-

“Home, nowadays, is a place where part of the family waits till the rest of the family brings the car back” -Earl Wilson

“Suffering is the price of being alive, and it is music and singing and art that has helped me live through some of the most difficult things that have happened to me” Judy Collins

These are random quotes, but ones I can relate to.

So Anxious….

           I think I’m getting more anxious about interacting with people than not. Distrusting of more than what I thought. Before it was only crowds that I stayed away from, now it’s as if I’m feeling unsafe around people as individuals, not just the crowds anymore. I’ve been watching too much news; there’s something conflicting going on in my head. I know life is short, I know I should do my best to live the best way I can. I am trying, and instead of feeling guilty for my opportunities and for being the burden I’ve always considered myself, I’m really stuck about how to change things. There are still things going on with my family that do affect me. And as grateful as I try to feel for what I have in my life, there’s still that thought echoing about how I really should be gone. How I really should find a way to disappear.

I’ve been approved for more school money from the loan company. It eats me up inside knowing I have debt already. Thousands of dollars. And it only builds and builds. They expect me to start paying it back six months after I get my degree in a few years. What if it takes me longer to get a job? What if by the time I get my degree, it’s still not enough? There are so many what if’s, worrying about them literally might kill me. 

I don’t understand our society. It hurts to see the price for further education only get higher when it’s almost a fact that you can’t get a decent paying job without something extra, beside a diploma. Everything feels hopeless…you only make it if you want it bad enough in this life. My mother is always shoving harsh realities in my face with talk of college and jobs and money and bills. Thank God we don’t have a gun. Or thank God I’m such a recluse, which keeps me away from everything…

I haven’t been able to write in my journal in weeks. I guess that’s just fine. I seem to have more to say when I at least feel as if I’m communicating to someone else. Somebody real.

Stress

I decided to write something that is both random and to the point. It describes stressful things, how stress feels, how it looks and what I imagine when I think of stress. It’s not meant to make perfect sense, but it’s all centered around this one thing.

Too many sunny days in a row
On and on dissatisfaction
Its widespread signature; the illness in my eyes
It is the scribble of those itchy red lines
A survivor and rarely a good thing
The caustic rain on my fresh painting

Inflamed hatred of a nightmare
Strangers walking by telling me to smile
It’s when the remedies don’t work; shot nerves
Instincts scratching at the walls
The rigid body language; superior vexation
Hangnails and blood I can’t ignore

When comfort begins to feel painful
Doves falling dead from the sky
It is success crumbling in chunks
Migraines trying to murder me
The vessels will rupture with my luck
Simply wishing that I’d never woken up