Mindfucks of Weight Loss

It’s weird…this suddenly becoming visible after being invisible for so long.  There’s less of me to see but the world is waking up to my existence.

In some ways, it’s a bit exciting and fun because I’ve been shouting into the void so long that it’s nice to be a valid human being

but also fuck you society for not seeing me as someone worthy before

and this leads to such vulnerability

maybe I’m not supposed to exist?

maybe I’m not worth even the small amount of space that I take up?

or I should now be doing things bigger than my body

and is your interest sincere?  sexual? scary?

I walk a little faster and breathe a little harder

burning more calories unintentionally

to become more exposed

clearly the only choice here is to get jacked as fuck so no one fucks with me

clearly…

This is the Thought That Never Ends…

So this morning I sent my lovely friend a quote that made me think of her.  The sentiment was basically that it’s great having a friend who will celebrate the big events in your life but it’s even more awesome having a friend that celebrates when you get out of bed and shower when you’re depressed.  This is my friend who gets me through and through because she has her own dealings with depression and anxiety.

She fired back a “Your you is awesome!” and I smiled and went through my day.  She’s started a new job today….

Oh shit….

Did I just send my friend a quote that essentially says hey yeah you’re awesome for getting a new job but I’m even more awesome because I got out of bed because I’m a fucking basket case right now?

Yes, yes I did.

Asshole.

So now that her work day is done, I sent her a follow up message that was a hey my brain gremlins have told me I’m an asshole for sending you that message earlier because it sorta seems like a passive aggressive fish for you to tell me I’m awesome for getting out of bed when I just meant it as I’m proud of you for getting a new job AND for getting out of bed and doing the things when shit was hard.  I’m also super happy that I have a friend like you that gets how hard those things can be for me and loves me for the big and little stuff too.

I’m going to go hide in a hole now.

She responds that she totally understood the sentiment behind it.  Because of course she does.  And that she loves having me as a friend who gets those things about her too.

Sounds great, right?  I have an awesome friend for once in my life.

Except now I’m fighting the urge to message her back and say that I didn’t mean that last message as a passive aggressive fish for more love and schmoopy words about our friendship.  I just wanted her to know that I’m sorry for being an asshole.  Because I do that…A LOT.

I will not send her that message so instead I’m crying and crying because I just feel like I can’t even love someone correctly.  I’m so fucking broken that I don’t know how to friend or love or take a damn compliment without ripping it into shreds.

My brain hurts.  My heart hurts.

I’m so afraid of what this will end up doing to the people I care about.  Will they understand this obsessive side of me or will it end up causing them to step back because I’ve got my damn needy pants on and I can’t seem to take them off?

Panic Switch

All day has been spent looking for the very important papers for The Engineer to take to work…papers that he has neglected to mention in the past three weeks that he was out of the office that I could have looked for at my leisure. It’s a good thing I can’t actually kill people with my eyes.

These papers come from an office that is currently causing me stress. I feel like the last few months we have had many negative interactions so my brain is telling me that they hate me. I had given up hope by the time he had come home, checking off all the places I had searched. I was resigning myself to having to walk in tomorrow and ask for replacements, resulting in another red x in our growing file of stupid shit that we have done.

While I’m feeling the panic grow in my chest as it’s been mildly humming in my fingers and stomach all day, my boy comes up and tells me that he has a
headache. He abnormally slept through the night last night…well, until the Engineer woke him at 5:45 because I told him I thought he might be dead but I couldn’t bring myself to check yet. As soon as he bounces off to brush his teeth, I cling onto the Engineer and wail, “He obviously has a brain tumor!”

He’s a bit baffled by this but the panic switch has been thrown and everything is melting around me. I start shaking and sniffling as I head to the bookshelf to grab tonight’s bedtime story. On top of the bookshelf is the packet of very important papers!

The switch is reversed and my heart feels light but possibly only until that kid sleeps too long again.

I Like to Pick the Crazy Filter, It’s How I See the World

I’ve begun playing a fun new game with the Engineer.  It’s called “I Heard What You Said and This is What My Brain is Telling Me You Said.”

Example 1:

Engineer: “It’s okay.  Go out for a bit.  You can stay out all day if you like.”

Me: “I’m stressed and you’re trying to help me by telling me to get out and do something fun.  My brain, however, is telling me that you’d like to get rid of me because I’m grumpy as fuck and you don’t want to be around me.  Perhaps you’ll move out while I’m gone.”

Engineer:  *baffled*

Example 2:

Engineer:  “What would help right now?  Telling you how much I love you and can’t imagine my life without you and that I need you…”

Me:  “You’re going to have to stop with the love stuff now because my brain is telling me that you somehow know I’m about to die and that’s why you’re being so nice.”

Engineer:  “Oh, I thought you always assumed I was cheating on you when I was overly loving.”

Me: *glares* “Dammit, your mistress is planning on killing me and you two will run off with the kids.  Or you’re going to kill the kids too!”  *sobbing hysterically*  seriously I started uncontrollably crying…I realize how insane I am because this is not even a real possibility, like ever.

Engineer: *resigns himself to holding me while I cry like a lunatic*

He’s a good man, that one.

 

See, isn’t this a fun game!

I took a personality quiz and it said that 81% of my decisions were ruled by my anxiety and now I’m very worried.