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Saturday 21 April 2012

My Hilarious Anxiety fueled sequel

So...where were we?
It's been just under a month since my first post about this and well...
This last month has been, intense.
If this month were a cliched 80s movie montage, it'd consist of me furiously writing, listening to hours of self help audio, lying down and talking dramatically, and probably punching out Elks....just because.


If this Month were an 80s hairstyle it'd definitely be Mel Gibson in 'Lethal Weapon'.

Because I was only home for a month, I couldn't actually see somebody for a routine hour on a regular basis, and was limited to 20 minute drop ins every few days. I spent a lot of my time just, doing 'writing' exercises, and talking to people on forums, a whole host of 'subconcious' hypnotherapy mp3s were recommended my way so I put on my serious face and figured why the hell not?
I then proceeded to torrent them all and feel like the lowest form of human trash.

An American friend of mine asked me to explain what an 'inferiority complex' felt like.
I responded with 3 things.
It's like being at an Ice cream shop for 3 years, and while everybody else gets ice cream at various points, and numerous times, you get handfuls of gravel and rubbing alcohol and told to cheer up and 'stop being a mope' by the other kids. The more gravel you get, the more you expect to get gravel the next time you ask for ice cream, yet nobody seems to have a problem with this, as well, they all have ice cream, so fuck you gravel eating loser!

It's like being a midget at a stilt convention.

It's like being punched in the neck by fate wearing brass knuckles of asbestos.

I've learned a lot the past month or so, some of it genuinely unnerving and surprising, some of it kind of expected and obvious, but I won't go into much detail. It did pretty much solidify my opinion on how mine came about, and with the various 'types' that create them, mine was predominantly social.
Shocking I know right?
It's an unexpected twist only M Night Shyamalan could have conjured.

And then it turns out that the most obvious scenario is...THE TRUTH!!!


This Occam's Razor notwithstanding, I shan't go into detail, but if you know me, you're probably aware how this came about. It's hard to not feel like a crappy individual when your 'people you've dated' to 'people who've rejected you/stood you up' ratio resembles the numbers at the battle of Thermopylae.
This isn't fishing for sympathy or pity, or anything of that ilk. It's just hopefully so people can you know...see what makes my kooky complex tick.
It's much worse at an age when you're meant to be advancing the social curve and having these experiences, and genuinely acting like a normal social human being, hormones and emotions and all that Hollyoaks nonsense I shan't go into.
And at University it's much worse when you're surrounded by it, after trite expectations and morale raising induction speeches of HOW AWESOME UNIVERSITY IS, to realise it's a hell of a lot more lonelier than High School. I've had people say 'Oh relationships aren't all that great', and the thing is I'm not desperate, I'm really not, I have a serious face as I type this. That's irrelevant, I don't go out and actively seek one. If I ask somebody out it's genuinely because I like them, not out of some pigheaded social by numbers desire to tick something off a social list. I genuinely do not force it, or actively seek them, I go about like everybody else does, I've just realised I'm not all that worth it with people. I really am a confident and upbeat chump with people, I never try and woo based on misery and pity. (Also this isn't a...name and shame, for some people who might read.)
The fact of the matter is, the more you get turned down or ignored, the worse you feel. That's just common knowledge, and I know a lot of people who deal with it, although thankfully for them not to such an extent. When you're at an age when your emotionally volatile and are surrounded by people experiencing the norms of social advancement, to feel like you've made no progress since you were 16, is really fun...

One guy I talked to online was the complete opposite, he was fantastic socially, but suffered greatly due to his employment relationship. I'd rather be that guy...at least I'd get cuddles. (Joke...that was...a joke. I hate cuddles)

Anyway, the TL;DR version, it turns out 4 years of feeling as appealing and attractive as a grave of open children is a bad thing. Who knew. And after time it becomes more than feeling sad and crappy, to genuinely feeling inferior, or a 'negative grandiosity' around other people.

Anyhoo, moving on.

The Good news then?
() Well...let's see. One of the main reasons I'm SO DAMN HILARIOUS, is because of depression. So thanks for that brain, good one there. Apparently in order to have the former, you need to experience the flip side, and I suppose the more you do, the more your brain tries to keep up 'funny' wise. That was worded stupidly. I apologise.
() I genuinely do feel different. I'm acting and expressing myself more how I'd like to be. Am I 100%? No, definitely not. But am I more like the person I want to be? Yeah, sure definitely. I'm sure this is something that will effect other people, as I'll still feel a smorgasbord of problems, but they'll notice I'm acting differently to them. 2 paragraphs in a row that were worded terribly? I'm on a roll...a literal roll.
() I've said things I didn't mean or didn't believe to people, with utmost vehemence and belief, and it turns out this is expected. My pretty awesome Doctor/Counsellor woman explained it's not uncommon for extreme stress and anxiety to shift certain viewpoints or what I'd deem 'acceptable'.
So whilst I can't exactly...fight my subconcious, It's my fault for not doing anything to stop this or make a change, I was a traitor, like an emotional Lando Calrissian. But you know...working on it.

I'm about to blow the shit out of this Death Star that is your social life.

The not so good-but-I'm-Working-On-but-It's-ridiculously-not-easy-news?
() Well, my Doc (tor) has a system whereby after seeing somebody for a few sessions she feels comfortable to be a bit of a 'maverick' and bust out her own psychiatric questionnaire form. Now it's not medically valid, as like I said, it's based on her psychology training and experiences but isn't 'the go to guide'.
She asked me about 30 questions, and then spent about 2 minutes reading the answers and occasionally going 'hmmm...right' or 'ahh...ok', before saying what can only be described as the single most hilariously expected sentence I have ever heard.
"Based on this, I'm glad you saw somebody. You seem dangerously close to having a nervous breakdown if this keeps up." She then hastily threw in "But that's obviously, only my opinion."
Apparently having this for 4 years is a PRETTY WORRYING SIGN, so...that's an anecdote we'd all like to have!
But yes that's true, and I'm doing my best to...not...have one of those things.
()I've tried to make amends with some people I've hurt in the past who I haven't spoken to in months of years. A couple of people have acknowledged this, which is all I asked for. I wasn't expecting instant karma or forgiveness, just an explanation that they deserved. Most people spat it back in my well side-burned face and in no unclear terms told me 'stop acting' or 'stop making excuses'. Which is nice. I'm not complaining or bitching, I'm just saying this is something you face when you cause a huge kerfuffle due to a KERAAZY mental problem and then try to clean up or make things right. So that's re-assuring.
In fact, with one person I care about, I've bought them more drama and stress in 5 months than the personal history of the band FleetWood Mac and I fully understand if they end up hating my very existence and never wanting to speak to me again. But that's depression for you, if you don't act, it can genuinely ruin any relationships you have or may have with a person. So...I'm acting now.
()I wake up most days with incredibly worrying anxiety to the point that I'm shaking, which I think is only allowed if you live in a WW1 trench or a North Korean orphanage.
() The university counselling people have still NOT GOT BACK TO ME, they apparently have the response time of Helen Keller playing Frisbee.



These realisations and poorly worded blogs explaining, don't mean I can go 'Oh cool, I'm Scott Free!' with regards to some of my past actions ,and I genuinely loathe telling people this because it sounds like an excuse, no matter how I try to put it. It's like I'm at court and at the last minute I pull the 'insanity defence' and try to force myself to defecate horribly all over the stand. It's just going to make people roll their eyes, care even less, go 'Yeah sure...whatever', have less patience and ruin my shoes.

I suppose it's more of a slow burn, in that I've been pooping all over the stand for the entire trial without my knowledge until somebody qualified has just stood up and yelled 'YOU ARE POOPING SIR', to which I respond 'Ahh...I see that makes a lot of sense'. Best do my best to stop pooping.



Haha...poop.


Anyway, some people might have trouble dealing with the fact I've genuinely not been 'myself' for the past year or so, and anybody who has met me in that time, I'm worried has only known 'depressed Pete'. And he's a a dick. I hate his face.
I guess for some people it's a chance for a blank slate with me, although not the kind I would have hoped for. It's more a blank slate due to a cleaning process involving sad realization, mental strain and a really poor quality bleach. It's not two people saying 'Oh let's just forget it happened, ho ho ho!', it's one person saying 'By the way...I used to be a bit of a nutty nutbar...I am now less of a nutbar.'
Regardless of what's going on, there's still the past history of somebody being a massive nutbar, and now trying to be less of a nutbar. I've fucked up royally with a few friends of mine, and some people I really care about, and it isn't superficial High school nonsense, it's really something I'd hope to never deal with, let alone at a stage in my life when I should already have learnt social experiences like dating, relationships or having too much social freedom. Trying to catch up on those would be stressful enough, but with this added on it's certainly a cluster-fudge of anxiety.

This is a nutbar. I find it an apt metaphor.



So in short...
Do I realize a lot more about why I'm a fucking pain in the arse at times? Yes.
Do I realize why I've had a terrible social history ? No. I have fantastic sideburns.
Am I getting better? Somewhat. I've realised I wasn't 'myself' (as facetious and pandering as that sounds) so I'm working on that.
Why Do I write these? Because I was told it'll help somehow, regardless of how...open or honest I am in them.

Listen, these blogs aren't needy or desperate or mopey or clawing for sympathy. I just find it helps to talk about it.
If I pop this bubble that University is fantastic and everybody's socialising and being brilliant, then deal with it.
The fact is that University has made me feel a lot worse about myself as a person, and that's just something I have to try and overcome.

But hey, get ready for...Pete version 2. The Pete who isn't a garbage boy to his mental kookyness. Or some cheesy motivational nonsense like that. But seriously, you might be surprised.

Artist's best guess.



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