Where Am I Going

I can't figure out what it is exactly that I want to do with this blog.

Do i want to have a purpose? Try to express some meaningful message for "my readers"? [ha!]

I think for now, not really. I just kind of want a place where I can work things out. Shout a bit if I need to, mull over the confusing, cheer about the good, and generally babble on about the neutral.

Right now, I'm thinking about my Asperger's DX again.

My sensitivities are coming back, more specifically my sound sensitivities and I have no idea where they are coming from. The Abilify had helped with this a lot, and I could basically tolerate things like the vaccuum and the garage door and the ice machine as well as just loud things. Not like them, but at least tolerate them.

Now, it's like I'm not even taking the Abilify anymore. Lots of things bother me/hurt my ears. I'm really needing to bundle myself tightly at night again- I'm sleeping in a mummy sleeping bag to get the feeling of tightness, binding.

I'm looking into getting a weighted blanket but they are so damn expensive. I don't know if I can afford it. Probably not. So who knows when that will happen, if ever. It makes me really sad. Because i think a weighted blanket could help me sleep so much better. I've always used many blankets, but in the summer it gets so hot.

Soap is bothering me, which is a problem. I wash my hands and freak out from the feeling of the soap.

My parents bought new drinking glasses and tossed some of the old ones and it really threw me off. Really bothered me. Change is bad.

Rethinking Being a Fucking Whore

Ad from Rethinking Autism:

[courtesy of contexts.org]

What in bloody mutherfucking hell?

I'm really disturbed by this "message". Let's parade some sex about and slap some messages around it.

Tits and ass for autism!!!

BLECH.

accident

I had my car accident in 2005, so I just figured out.

It was a life-changing thing.

I experienced a grand mal/tonic clonic seizure in the ER, fucked my memory, and screwed up my balance for a little while.  My writing has never been the same, and neither have I.  I do feel truly changed by the experience, as if the accident somehow remolded my personality.  I lack "oomph".  Or something.

I was scared to drive for a time but I really only had one bad dream about it, so there wasn't really a PTSD issue to speak of.

I wonder sometimes if that is the source of my anxiety somehow.  Because I've always been socially nervous, as far back as I can remember.  But I don't think at a clinical level.

I'm not the same.

I miss myself.

I wonder where I've gone.

Smudge!

Today has been sort of blah.
I got up pretty early [for me], at around 930 and started doing statistics homework. I've gotten 5 problems done and I worked until about 1 ish with a couple breaks. WTF? It's ridiculous how long they take. I still have about 25 more or so.

So I'm starting to feel very unaccomplished in regards to statistics. Like it is never going to end.

I saw my therapist.
We talked about bullshit, and it was a struggle. I had a hard time thinking of stuff to say or bring up and she wasn't doing very much "probing", so there were a lot of silences and much more awkwardness than usual.

On the way home, someone ran into me. Stopped at a stop light, the person in front of me went [right on red], I moved up and stopped. The person in back of me goes right up my ass. Beautiful.

Thankfully the car isn't really damaged. There's a smudge on the bumper but that's pretty much it.

I went to my pdoc yesterday and I know I talked a little bit about it before, but I feel like he has no idea of what's going on with me.

I mean I was feeling pretty depressed for a little bit there and he doesn't know because it's just like, I don't know, so hard to bring shit up. I feel no trust for this person. And he tries to make light conversation about shit and I just don't want light conversation. If I want that I could go to my therapist.

Why am I doing this again?

I'm fucking freaking out.
There are some concepts in statistics that I don't get and we have a quiz next class and I feel stupid and I have such a bad feeling about this class: that I'm going to totally fuck up.

I suddenly feel so pressured I've been crying off and on for a while now and I don't know how to NOT freak out.

And if I talk to my therapist about it, she's going to be all "I told you so" since she was less than encouraging about me taking two classes this summer.

I just feel so broken, like I can't do anything normally and I think I'd just rather lay in bed and wither away than keeping trying sometimes. Because I have, like, no control over my arousal level and I flip out when there's any kind of stress.

I didn't use to be like this goddamnit.
I want to stop my meds.
I was so much more functional in a lot of ways when I was crazy.

I really need to break some shit but I can't find anything.

I don't even know what to call this. Am I having an anxiety attack?
FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I really just hate everything. I hate myself.
I hate how I can't do anything in a healthy, functioning way.
I always freak out.

I hate my body. I hate my face. I hate the way I don't know how to shut up sometimes, but then can't speak for my life other times.
I hate how everything is easy for most people [easy meaning "Can do it without having a breakdown"] and they don't even appreciate it.
I wish I would just fucking die and get it over with.

I don't know why I'm in school. I have no realistic expectation that I actually CAN do all the work required to be a therapist. Getting my master's scares me and fuck a doctorate- I'm terrified.

My head hurts.
Bury me. Please.

On My Mind

I think if I don't write about this or tell someone about it, I'm going to fucking flip out.

I think I'm going crazy again. I say that because the thought of having kids is plaguing me again. How much I want to have a kid. And actually- how much I want to just get my life moving.

I feel like I'm stuck in mud.

I figured I'd be married by now. Maybe have a kid or be planning to. 

But I'm not, and it makes me sad.

Sometimes I just feel like maybe I'm missing out. I'm pretty sure I am.
I can be patient. I've been fucking patient.
I feel like I've got the guy and I just want to get on with it.

We've been together for 4 years in october. [fuck. my memory is insisting it's three now but I swear it's four. Now I'm confused.]

And we've talked about kids and I just... really want to have kids.
And I guess a lot of the time, when I start to go crazy, I really focus on that.

I'm not stupid enough to do something like purposely get pregnant, so no one worry. Because that's just out of the question in my current situation and also to trick someone like that is just plain fucked up.

All of my friends from highschool are either married or living with someone.
I'm living with my parents and my boyfriend is living with his.

I feel like I'm going nowhere.


It's sad. Pathetic. 
I'm pathetic. 

And I feel like I'm never going to be a mom. Or a wife. Or an anything.

A big mess of junk.

I've lost a couple pounds. AGAIN. Fuck. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of constantly weighing myself and freaking out and thinking about food. All the time, my brain is thinking of food.

I don't know why but it sucks ass.
I've probably said these things before.
I will probably say them again.

I don't remember a lot of things. And it's really starting to bother me. I don't think it's getting worse, I think it's just bothering me more.

There are some really nice things I would like to remember but I need to be told about them before I even realize they happened. Sometimes I start to remember it, but there are times that I still don't. 

I just find I'm saying "I don't remember that" a lot.

When I CAN remember things, I can never remember when they happened. I have no sense of time, very little timeline ability.

I guess this is just an I Suck entry.

I'm fat and forgetful.

And I just panic at the prospect of doing ANYTHING. I freaked out about getting the oil changed on the car. Because I hadn't been to the place before and it was new and I felt all weird because I just didn't know what to do.

I feel like normal people can sort of guesstimate their way through things. Like the world makes a certain kind of sense because it has some sort of order. People who hadn't been to that place would be able to deal with it because they can fucking figure things out.

I can't.
I never know where I am or what I'm doing nor can I tell my head from my ass.

I'm not comfortable or confident in just functioning like a normal human being because I don't even know what that's like anymore.

Everything scares me. Everything worries me. I'm a freak accident away from dying. So is everyone I know.

And it never never stops.
And I've ceased making sense in my blog, I think.

My Room.

I'm finally down to cleaning my room.

It's so trashed that it's a huge project. But now that I have the floor cleared up [sort of], Im stuck on what to do next. I simply have too much shit. There's a bunch of stuff under the bed, mostly trash, that I'm working on, but I seriously just have too much stuff to put anywhere.

I have three bins just full of things that I can't even deal with right now, only they don't have lids so I can't put them in the garage or the basement. So they are just sitting and taking up room.

My desk is a disaster as well and I want to take a shelf/thing out of my closet so I can use it more as a closet, but I can't shuffle things around enough.

This is so frustrating. I'm just starting to shut down before I really even get much done.

argh.

NAMI Walk at the Seaport, NYC.

I went to visit a friend in NY this weekend and participate in a walk with my boyfriend and several others in NYC.  The walk was to support NAMI. National Alliance on Mental Illness.

"NAMI is the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the nation’s largest grassroots mental health organization dedicated to improving the lives of individuals and families affected by mental illness. Founded in 1979, NAMI has affiliates in every state and in more than 1,100 local communities across the country."

The NAMIWalks are something done every year over a matter of months throughout the country and we decided to do it as a team. You can raise money online or offline and it's just something that is neat and good to do.  Over 1000 people showed up to walk from the seaport through over the Brookline bridge and doubled back to the Seaport.  

We had lunch afterward at a cuban place and just relaxed, the dy was nice, if a tiny bit hot and all the participants seemed excited and nice [everyone in general, not just the people I was with]. 

Ty Pennington showed up to talk.

It was a neat experience and one of my parents' friends even showed up.

There are still walks going on if anyone wants to participate:

NAMIWalks

I'm having a fucking fit.

and I can't stop myself.

I have my final for bio tomorrow. And I'm totally flipping my shit.
I was doing ok. Stressed,but ok.

But then we have a take home part of the exama and I get to the essay questions and I don't know them. I don't really know what they're talking about. I've already been studying for like five days.

This is scaring the shit out of me.
Obviously the studying didn't do much good, since I had to look up like half of the other answers too.

What the fuck. I'm so screwed. I only have a few hours left to study and now I'm fucking paralyzed. I can't do anything and I'm going to fuck up the test and fuck up my grade and it sucks.

It just sucks because I've worked so hard and had like either the top or the second highest grade in the class all semester and to get a c now would just be typical and proving AGAIN that I can 't do this.

And I can't.
Shown here.

I'm bawling and smacking my head instead of being able to read a fucking book and look into the answers. My brain is just stuck.

I hate my brain.
I hate my gross overreactions to things.

I don't know what the hell to do.
I can't get a damn c.
I just can't.