Happiest Place on Earth
Tag: stress
Alone
One lie, that having poor mental tells you is that you are alone. That no one else feels the way you do. It is a lie that cuts you off. Makes you feel like you are not good enough for anyone who is around. That what you experience, is such a burden on everyone, that maybe it’s better to remain on your own. So you don’t bring other’s down.
Logically, these lies don’t make sense. Having poor mental health, is something that thrives in loneliness. Or that is what it feels like for me, anyway. If people are around, or if I am kept busy (like at work), I don’t often feel so overwhelmed. It does still happen, to be honest, but because my brain is focused elsewhere, I can deal with things better.
But that can be a problem. When I first started having mental health issues, I spoke to people. I reached out for help, I was told to ‘grow up’, that it was ‘hormones’, or was just because I ‘needed the right guy’. This all felt like rejection, as if rather than understand, people deflected with useless fake solutions. So I waited. I hoped it would go away. I made a mess of things, in the hope I’d feel normal. And it hurts. It manifested at a previous work place were I was told, by my manager ‘you have a job, you have a place to live, you have nothing to be depressed about’. I wrote on Facebook, years ago, and was told not to be such an attention seeker.
In the end, it feels like not saying anything helps me. There is only so many times people can ask for help, and for it to be thrown back at them. Or even ignored. It’s easier to not be with people, because then I don’t run the risk of being made to feel worse. So, I spend time alone, which is when my mental health is worse.
This has come into my head, after a recent news story brought suicide and mental health to the forefront of people’s minds. And the same people, who berated me, who called me an attention seeker, expect folk to reach out to them. Say that they can help. But they did the opposite. Or maybe it’s only certain people that folk want to help. I’d never be that person.
You Do You
What is the worst habit that you have?
Some would say smoking, not exercising enough, or drinking too much. I would say that most people’s bad habit should be talking about other people. Talking poorly about a person you don’t know, or only partly know.
A person only starts to think about this when it is them being spoken about. It is for them that an area turns quiet as they walk by, hushed voices giggling to one another. People speak, and sometimes their words get back to the person they are about. And when you are struggling to function, to hear others speaking nonsense can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Normally in this situation, people don’t realise the damage they have done till it’s too late. It can be hard to admit that the words that you have spoken could have really hurt someone. Because, that is never the intention. People talk rubbish about others to help ease their own frustrations about work, life, or whatever.
I know that I have been at both sides of this. I have talked crap, but I have also had crap said about me. And it is something that I have been thinking about a lot. I know that, personally, I want people to like me. I want to be friends with everyone. Of course, that is something that is not always possible, you cannot please everyone. And, to hear that people don’t like me to the point that they’d talk as soon as my back was turned, broke my heart. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. I would worry about something like this for weeks. I would analyse every little thing I did, to see if there was anything that would offend anyone. It’s compulsive and irrational, but I can’t help it.
Recently, I’ve tried to change things. Focus on myself, and do what makes me happy. I wouldn’t purposely harm anyone or anything, and that should be my focus. Some people won’t like me, but that’s okay. I’m going to just try do what I like. Keep my mind busy, so that I don’t worry so much about what other people say. It’s easier said than done, though.
A Good Bye
Goodbye is hard to say.
It is these days, anyway.
In childhood, goodbye was never really goodbye. There was the promise that it was more of a ‘see you later’ than actually parting ways forever. You’d see the person at the next break, after school, at the play park, or even in a few days. Most of the people you leave, you will see again, and the phrase ‘goodbye’ doesn’t feel negative.
However, as you get older, the promise of seeing people once you’ve said farewell, isn’t always so certain. People start to leave your life, and they never come back. It becomes harder and harder to say goodbye. Because the promise that was once there, the idea you’d always see the person again, has gone.
Goodbye mean last forever. Until the time comes that it does.
Not Everyone’s Pal
Anxiety has a habit of convincing a person, that everyone hates them. Or I get that anyway. That I could be the nicest person in the world, and everyone will still hate me. Over the years, it’s a feeling that has become so overwhelming that I try to make the opposite happen.
I feel like I have to be liked by everyone. I try to be friendly and helpful. I try to be the kind of person I like. Sometimes it’s like I become a Labrador, who is up in everyone’s business because they crave a pat on the head. But sometimes, I can be the nicest person in the world and someone still won’t like me.
I haven’t done anything wrong, but this other person doesn’t see eye to eye with me. And I take it really personal. Why don’t they like me? What did I do wrong? And my mind jumps to the worst conclusion, that everyone really hates me, they just don’t tell me that. It makes me become hyper aware of every little thing I do, as if I am trying to find the annoying bits.
If logic played a part in mental health, it would tell me that what I was feeling was silly. That not every person in the world is going to become friends, and that is okay. Doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong. It’s just the way life is sometimes.
Unfortunately, logic rarely has any space in my anxious wee brain.
Booked
I love reading.
I love the idea of getting lost in a world when the real world is becoming too much. Reading is something I do when I need to chill out. Something that is becoming increasingly necessary in this world, as it becomes more angry an confrontational.
That’s why books have come to mean so much to me, as there is no confrontation. Everything that could cause anguish is contained within the pages of the book. And if it stresses me out at all, I can close the book and do something else. Because if I am really invested in a book or character, I can find myself panicking if the storyline turns suddenly. And I am aware that seems really strange.
My issue these days, seems to be on focus. There are times where I can get right into a novel, but other times my mind can’t focus. And it is really hard. Something that I’ve used to help me relax, might not help me anymore. I have discussed this quite a bit on here, but it is so annoying.
I am currently reading Limmy’s (Scottish comedian) autobiography, listening to a book on the Korean War and reading a thriller on my Kindle. I have to be able to jump back and forth so that I can take in a book whatever my mood is. The problem is that I often end up reading the same stuff over and over again. It’s not really a problem, but I feel like it is. I love the feeling of getting into a new book for the first time, where you can’t put it down. But, due to the problem with focusing, it’s hard to get into something new.
Brain explosion
Sometimes it feels like everything is too much. It’s like I have so much to try and focus on, it’s like my brain is going to explode. There is too much to get done, and I am far to indecisive to pick what needs to be done first.
There is so much going on that my attention flits between different things. I always have a list of things I need to get done, and every night I come home and do none of it. Which is bad enough. But I sometimes have time sensitive things that needs done, and I can’t do it. It’s like my brain stalls, and I simply sit and do nothing instead.
When I try to get myself moving, it is never just the one think my mind picks at. No, everything comes at once. ‘I have washing to do’, is joined with ‘I’d better study’, then ‘I still haven’t finished that book’. And finally ‘look at this political mess, everything is f#*ked’. Now separately these things seem okay, but, all together it’s another story. It all adds to my anxiety, the panic I feel when it seems like I can’t do anything.
It’s this feeling of failure, when I can even do the most basic of goals. I over-think and become overwhelmed. It’s not a nice feeling.
Head In Sand
Recently I haven’t been sharing at all. Which is not like me, but it’s hard when you are dealing with something that you’d rather not be dealing with.
Unfortunately, life is not that kind. I have been sick, had a major crash with my mental health, had course work due in and the busiest time of the year for the ol’ day job. And it all kind of left me functioning, but that was it. I didn’t want to talk about it, still don’t, because I didn’t want to think about how much stuff was happening all at once. It’s kind of calmed down a little, my coursework is done and Christmas is a week a way, which means no overtime. And it’s allowing me a little time to reflect on why I burrowed myself away from the internet.
For years the internet was where I could let my feelings go, where I could write about stuff that no one cared about. It was very therapeutic and it was completely disconnected from my real life. However, every day there seems to be more merging of both my private life and the one I talk about on line. People who I know in real life, are able to access what I am writing.
Now, this doesn’t seem like a huge problem for some, as they see things being made public, and surely it doesn’t matter who reads it. But… that’s not really how it goes. In my life, I try to put a smile on as I soldier on through whatever the day throws at me. Inside, I may be falling apart, but I don’t want people to see it. I always feel like my mental health issues makes me a burden on others, so I don’t want them to know. That way people don’t feel pressured into being nice, they are being nice because they want to, not because I’m not right in the head. And when these people I share my daily life with can read what I really feel, I feel like I have let them down. I mean, surely I should be able to talk to folk, right?
So, sometimes it is easier to bury my head in the sand. Pretend things are okay, when they aren’t. It’s not perfect. But, it can get me through times where I don’t have the strength to deal with questions about things that I don’t know how to put into words. That’s what writing helps me do, sometimes, put what’s in my head into words that (kind of) make sense.
Multi- Media Anxiety
Oh, these days are magical. You can communicate with someone on the other side of the world, as easy as you can communicate with your pal down the road. The internet has truly made the world smaller. Which is great.
Until you have a problem with anxiety.
Now, I have a job, and I am studying a university course, and people doubt that I can have any problems whilst doing those things. I can be okay when I am in a routine, when there is something I can focus on. I have this awful fear of disappointing people. So, when it comes to work, the point of disappointment is not attending work, so that someone else has to do my job. It’s this idea that I am letting someone down, and it is something that can make me panic and have sleepless nights.
This brings me to social media messaging. If I know the person well, I can message back fine. Usually. The problem is, that I assume that whatever expectancy someone has, I am just going to fail. I feel like a ‘wet blanket’, that I am just going to bring someone ‘down’. Like, other people are busy having lives, and I am still here, stuck in my own head. So, sometimes I am messaged by people, and my mind trips me up over the obligation to message back. And I panic, I worry, and I find it hard to reply.
Of course, that isn’t the case all the time. But when it does, I feel like my lack of reply has created an issue. That I have offended someone by my own inability to do something so trivial. The thing is, people do take offence. I have had people get grumpy with me, thinking that I have ignored them, without them being aware that I spend hours of my life worrying about a small message. Writing it out, it does seem really stupid. But that is anxiety, something so silly and stupid, but something I can’t seem to help.
So, if you message someone, and they don’t message back, try not to give them a hard time. It can be hard being so connected to the internet and to the world all the time. It is easy to get overwhelmed. Everyone may reach the point where they need to switch off their phone and have some downtime. And it is okay. It really is.
Finding The Balance
I haven’t been posting again. It has been a conscious decision for the first time in my life. It was a signing out of browsers and apps, so that I could disconnect from things a bit. I am really bad at putting pressure on myself to do things. Usually, it is meaningless things, things that are not essential. Blogging became one of those things, and it quickly became a thing that stressed me out. Which is the opposite to what writing usually has for me.
Where stress came into play, was that I would want to post a few times a week, and I wasn’t really in the mood. My mind was elsewhere, and I couldn’t think of anything to write about. But, because I had set my mind on posting something, I would start panicking that I was failing. I don’t know what you really fail at, if you don’t post on a blog that noone reads, but it was still a stress-point. My head has a way of recognising what I fail at, whilst ignoring everything else. And by recognising, I mean constantly berating myself till I feel so suffocated I get dizzy. Which is not nice.
So, I have been taking time out. Time to re-assess things. Try to find the pleasure in writing again. It would be nice. I mean, writing has been a favourite thing of mine for years, and it has helped me figure a lot of things out. Doesn’t mean I am any good at writing, but I should get a Blue Peter badge for trying. To write when I want, not because I feel I have to.
In the time I have spent away from my computer, I have tried to do things I like. I have been going on long drives in my car, which is fun. Being able to go where I want, when I want, instead of waiting on buses has changed my life. I have explored all around where I live, visited towns I’ve never been and walked in parks and woodland. It has really helped me chill out. I put a crappy CD on, put petrol in the car and just follow a road somewhere. There is no pressure to exceed, just drive safely. Learning to drive really is the best thing I have done in years.
I just need to try and find a mix between productivity and relaxation. If I can try to not stress about being productive, I am sure I will find pleasure in writing again. I just need to remember sometimes, that what my head thinks is most important, isn’t always that way.
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