I Wanna Dance With Somebody

Today started out crappy, courtesy of damn facebook. There is nothing quite like waking up, checking your emails and your facebook to find out that overnight you had your "friends" saying you need a Valium. But, I got up out of bed anyway and tried to brush it off. Only after posting and saying how I didn't appreciate the comment, even if it was meant to be a joke. It hurt my feelings! The remainder of the morning and early afternoon was fabulous, spent in the company of a talented and friendly colleague. I return to my car to find out my "friend" has called me out as being "crazy" and continues to post that everyone in town warned her as much, and that she wished she had listened.

First off, there are many issues with this statement. Facebook can be the devil! It creates drama where there isn't any and things quickly grow to massive proportions of hurt feelings all before it implodes. Friendships are lost over words that hurt can not be unsaid, it is just bad. If it wasn't for social media being a major part of the advertising I do for my job, I would walk away from it (no matter how difficult it would be). Secondly, why on earth are people in town talking about me? I am NOT that interesting. Trust me! I'm sure plenty of you will learn that on your own as you read my posts :P. Secondly, why do relationships have to be so dang complicated? I support, encourage, provide a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and mute lips to allow for venting, a non-judgemental and honest relationship. Is it really too much to ask for the same in return? It sure seems like it is! Ah, but there is the key, "It SEEMS like it is". During my mid-afternoon mini panic attack, I wanted to run my car off the road and take myself out by hopefully rolling a couple times. But, I didn't. Obviously. I was feeling incredibly alone, misunderstood, hurt, angry, not surprised (knowing who the "everyone in town" is that she would have been referring to), all while feeling ashamed of the fact that one of the two relationships I considered to be the healthiest I have had with someone other than my husband, in the last decade, was a facade. She said that she hoped that I never had to deal with a tragedy, because I would find very few people to support me if I did. I would be all alone because I had alienated everyone I have ever met.  Well, I already knew that people with small minds only talk about other people, but thank you for confirming that I left the book club, Mom's Club, and ECFE just in time to save myself from the largest group of judgmental people in our community. But why, why did she have to say I am crazy? She knows, better than most, that I am extra emotionally sensitive. We have spent hours discussing my depression and anxiety, she knows my struggles. But, I guess that also means she also knows my vulnerabilities. She knew which buttons to push to make me hurt and question myself.

Why do I have to be like this? Can't I just be "normal"? Why do I have to constantly over analyze everything to the point of making it so I can't see straight or think of anything other than what I am analyzing? I HATE feeling like I am a failure at life. And that is ALWAYS where I end up in the midst of an attack. I'm not a good enough mother, my kids would be better off without me. My husband has WAY too much to deal with already, that he doesn't need to have a crazy wife when he is incredibly intelligent, tender, kind, and an amazing father. Why would he want to be with me? I'm holding him back from so much. If I wasn't here, then that would be one less mouth to feed, car to pay for, clothing and personal costs to consider. If I wasn't here, everything in my world would be incredibly better. I'm not going to lie. On my way home today, I didn't want to live to see the sun set. I couldn't have cared less about the value of life, unless I was already dead. But, here's the catch 22. I'm afraid of dying. I'm terrified of ceasing to exist, the eternal darkness. I want to leave a mark on this world that will leave proof that I was here! I don't want to be another name engraved into a headstone or an urn. "I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody."  No, I don't want to be somebody who leaves their mark on the world by leaving a splat mark on the highway beneath the bridge. I keep telling them, I'm not a messy doer. If I ever did do it, I would do it with pills. Less fuss, less muss.

All I want is a friend. No offense, but my husband and my mother just don't cut it all the time. I need someone who understands what I am going through, because they themselves are there too. I wanna dance with somebody who understands from first hand experiences, someone I have met through my "normal" life. Someone who I thought of as "normal". If someone else is able to pull of normalcy when dealing with this crap, I sure as hell can too! I don't need a support group.... there is nothing like walking into a room full of strangers and spilling your guts in between the sobs. That makes me want to pop a bottle of pills as quickly as possible.  If you don't personally know the people within the group who deal with the same issues as you, you wonder about that other person's life and you compare yourself to them. "Do I sound like that when I ramble?", "Do I look like that when I am stressed or having an attack", "Do I allow my anxiety to take that much control over my daily life for extended periods of time?" "What else is this person dealing with?" "Is this person just like me, better or worse?" "What is this person like outside of sessions?" Again, over analyzing.

Part of my problem, so the Crisis Therapist has said, is that I care too much. No one cares as much about other people as I do. I want to fix the world. Ok, not the world, but I want to help my friends and acquaintances through their trials and tribulations. I am not one of those people who thrives on other people's unhappiness. It's not like that. I just constantly feel the need to "help" others. My family and I live paycheck to paycheck, so money isn't a commodity with which I can help others, so I offer of myself. She also reminded me that most of the world's most creative minds have had mental health disorders. She said a lot of the people she sees are in the arts or creativity fields. We all tend to be uber sensitive to the world around us. That is what makes us ultra perceptive and gives us the ability to translate that in our work, expressing emotion.

Do you ever look around you and evaluate those who are in your life, and wonder who you can trust? Who can you be honest with? With who can you share your deepest, darkest thoughts, and not scare off? I am sick to my stomach over the fact that I often find myself alone. There isn't enough Valium in the world that can cure my loneliness.