It’s been really difficult for me to start this. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know what to say. That’s been a problem for me for four years now. Writing anything has been difficult. I used to love writing letters, blog posts, journals, stories, etc. Now I struggle to find words to write anything. I’ve never been a really vocal person, so writing was always a way for me to express myself. I even have a degree for writing. But since I graduated and don’t have deadlines and the threat of failing grades hanging over my head, I just don’t have the motivation or inspiration to really writing more than a few paragraphs. Which sucks. I love writing, and I have plenty of ideas floating around, I just can’t seem to get the words out onto paper or word processor. I don’t know for certain why this is the case for me. Maybe I’m just lazy and need to find my motivation again. Maybe it’s what I think and I have un-diagnosed depression. I don’t know. And won’t until I manage to get in to see someone about it. Which won’t happen anytime soon, because I’m currently living in a country where mental health problems are pushed under the rug and ignored or looked on as something that should be hidden. This country is getting better, but it’s still really difficult to find treatment for mental health. Especially in English.
I’m hoping over the next year or so, I’ll be able to make some progress with my mental health. I have some pretty severe generalized and social anxiety, and I’m hoping to start learning how to cope with and maybe overcome it. It keeps me from going places a lot of the time. If I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, I sometimes won’t go. Other times, if it’s just a small trip somewhere, I’ll make myself go anyway, because I know if I don’t try, I’ll never have any fun and I’ll never leave my apartment. My anxiety also makes me dwell on things I have said. I’ve had some pretty bad experiences where people have used my own words against me, or took things I have said and have been pretty savage in telling me I shouldn’t be the way I am. I’ve lost a number of friends this way. I also have a really bad habit of being an asshole sometimes, though. So maybe I deserve it. And this assholery is probably why I don’t have friends.
Back to anxiety and how I dwell on words. At my current place of work, I’ve had certain unwanted confrontations with people about asshole things I have said, which made me realize I was an asshole. I’ve been trying to limit what I say at work, but I’m constantly worried I’m going to accidentally let the asshole slip again and say something not appropriate or nice. So whenever I say something to someone I’m not completely comfortable with (which is almost everyone), I either turn red from immediate anxiety that they won’t care about what I’m saying, or they won’t react the way I think they should. And then later, usually when I’m trying to sleep, I’ll think about it again and worry that they’ll think I’m stupid, or weird. It’s a horrible thing to go through. And there are some nights (thankfully not in a while) where it will get to the point where I’ll end up crying because I don’t know how to talk myself out of a dark spiral without making it worse.
For not knowing what to say, I sure have said a lot. I can hope I’ll be able to keep this blog up and going with posts. The last blog I tried to keep kind of died because I stopped writing. I don’t think I can guarantee a post every week, at least not yet. I can try, but until I’m actually getting treatment/actively working on fixing my brain, I’m not sure if I’ll have much to say. Unless I just talk about life. Yeah, I’ll probably just talk about life and how I do things while living with possible depression, and definite anxiety.
Until the next one.