Real-life relationships are too much work. Let's face it - real life ITSELF is too damn much work. I don't wanna do it anymore. I would like to check out and take a nap for however long it takes to wake up in a happy chapter in my life, where I'm happy 99.7% of the time. I'm only giving Sadness the required 0.3% of time in my life, just so I don't appear 100% crazy in demanding CONSTANT HAPPINESS. But honestly? I'd prefer the constant happiness. I don't care that it's not realistic. I don't want this reality. Didn't sign up for it, feel bamboozled and cheated into absorbing it, and consistently "cut off my nose to spite my face" in an effort to pretend that it's not as horrible as it feels.
This does not work.
It's still out there, Horrible Reality. Outside of my mind, I see suffering and pain. And because I see this, I feel this as well. Or is it the other way around? Do I see suffering and pain because I feel it within my own person? Probably, yes. To both. And down we go.
Ok, so in an effort to stay away from HELL, I try looking at the positive side of life, attempting to REFOCUS and see things in a way that are beautiful and meaningful even within distressing conditions and situations. All aspects exist, so I should be able to find love everywhere, right? By love here, I mean happiness. I do that a lot, you know, interchange words as if they were true synonyms for one another when in reality, others don't necessarily even share the same natural connotations as I do. This gets me confused and misunderstanding and misunderstood. I do not like this.
But if truth is subjective, and reality is what you make of it, then why am I still stuck in a reality I do not approve of? Why can't I exist in a mental state that allows me to remain blissful and not constantly and consistently stressed out to near-breaking over finances and job hunting and relationships with various peoples in my life? I didn't consciously choose this shit. I do not want this shit.
Am I unconsciously choosing this shit? Why would I do that?
I'm going back on meds. I feel like a failure. Being in a real relationship for the first time since my traumatic marriage is really fucking with my head. I don't know how to act. I react more than act but I feel rushed through life, my reactions forced out of me at a much faster tempo than I would naturally act self-prompted. I HATE FEELING RUSHED and PUSHED. It's one of my least-tolerated stressors, by far. Why is that one of my worst? I sincerely cannot stand it. When I feel rushed and pressured to act, I am INSTANTLY engulfed within the dreaded Icky, Panicky Feeling that has taken me on a long-ass joyride around the massive canyon of insanity. I will do basically anything to escape that feeling.
You know what? I bet it bothers me so much at least partly because of my lack of assertiveness. I feel badly when I stand up for myself or tell anyone "no" or disagree with someone else's opinion. I can generally still accomplish it (while feeling badly), but this is far from a guarantee - I may just acquiesce, sometimes without even acknowledging that I'm acquiescing to what I perceive as a demand, as a stipulation of affection and love - and then I feel hurt and betrayed because #1 - I betrayed my true feelings by often not even voicing them and generally not standing up for them, (I have a hard time even recognizing my true feelings at this point), #2 - it doesn't occur to me that whoever doesn't know, intuitively, that I am making concessions and am therefore likely displeased with the actual outcome -- I often end up angry with the person I felt I couldn't stand up to and they do not understand why. Or they do understand why and find that it's still the best option for them - to do what they want even though it'll make me angry. I don't do things I want to do because it'll make YOU angry - why would you not change your mind or behaviors in order to avoid MY pain and anger? This angers me.
Dudes. I'm all sorts of a mess, hey?
Wanna know a secret though? I'm fascinated by my mess. I'm super absorbed by my own brain patterns and when I discover things like I just did -- some of my illogical truths - I just fascinate me. And I feel naughty even typing that, scandalous at the thought of actually publishing this post. Wanna know what else? Sometimes I like making everyone else awkward because I've once again been too honest and shared too much. It amuses me. Sometimes I simply regret these overshares and wish to immediately melt into the center of the earth, but on a good day, it makes me giggle to myself that my truth - which cannot be entirely exclusive to my own experiences, or they wouldn't have such an effect on others (or would they...) - my truths make people feel awkward. Or how I present them at times, maybe.
I like it when you feel awkward. It means I'm not alone. I feel awkward a lot. It's not generally pleasant, although it certainly can be. Why would I want to share my unpleasant feelings?
Duuuudes. This is my brain. She never shuts up. NEVER. I'm so not looking for advice here, btw, I'm simply verbally vomiting all over my own blog, because I can. Don't like it? Don't read it.
This has now become my attempt at being self-assertive. MEEEEEEEEEEE.
ugh.
