An open thread for personal stuff, continuing from here.
As usual for these threads: no trolls, no MRAs, no I’m-not-really-an-MRA-buts, don’t be mean.
Categories
We Hunted The MammothBucking the Backlash
We Hunted The Mammoth
Cat bunk beds!
https://www.facebook.com/itsthemetapicture/photos/a.387644671313623.87403.129488340462592/698176316927122/?type=1
That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Bootsey be praised.
Mouse,
I’ve got the exact same struggle myself and found that deep down the root of it is a negative self image or low self esteem. I’m still struggling with social anxiety, hate it when it grabs a hold of me, but what I’m doing for myself is putting 100% focus into changing that internal dialogue.
It takes time. The general process for me is growing out of the negativity and getting sick of it, putting it behind me. I ask my closest family and friends for positive input about me so I have something good to dwell on instead of fear and self depreciation. If the feedback really hits the spot it triggers deep happiness and confidence and my day is set, but I need to mull it over again and again until it hits home. When bad days strike I remind myself that this thing is NOT the real me and is just a passing phase in the upward journey. It’s hard to function positively on those days but the best I can do is relax in the knowledge that it is not forever, is separate from my being, and is something I can learn from at each strike. Then I just do the best I can that day.
Mouse – this might sound out of left field, but improv/public speaking classes help a lot with getting over shyness and social inhibitions. I took an improv class once and loved it. You get to step outside yourself and try out different ways of relating to people in a safe atmosphere, without fear of being “wrong”. Looking foolish is the goal. You might find yourself doing a silly walk, lying on the floor imitating a jackhammer, pretending to eat pizza in a hailstorm, or whatever. Once you’ve done those things, ordinary conversation doesn’t seem so daunting.
More importantly, improv trains you to observe closely and pay attention to what other people are saying. When you do a scene, you build off of the other person’s ideas and create a scene collaboratively, rather than approaching conversation as a stressful game of ping-pong. Blocking is a no-no; you have to go with what the other person says, no matter how oddball. You develop empathy and the ability to get inside the other person’s head. All those skills are helpful in real world social situations.
You don’t have to be a great actor to get something out of it. I’m a terrible actor, but I did discover that I’m good at coming up with ridiculous scenarios on the fly. One of the teachers (a local filmmaker) asked me to collaborate with her on a screenplay. I don’t know if it will ever get made, but it’s been fun exploring a side of me I didn’t know existed.
Those kitty bunk beds are cute!
Thanks for the support guys. I want to stress for anyone considering inpatient care that this ward was, from my own experience and talking to my fellow patients, an anomaly. Most wards are, while not ideal places to be, places that do help their patients to recover.
I second Buttercup.
I did acting and improv as a kid and it helped me a lot. I’m still a little bit shy and a little big anxious, particularly in big groups but I think it would’ve been worse if I never did theater.
Cross stitch update:
http://imgur.com/drcpoR6
I’ve been having depression. Like, serious-business depression. It’s a strange episode, because depression of this magnitude usually follows a manic spell, and this time I didn’t get the fun manic-ness beforehand. :/ I’ll spare everyone a gory description of the symptoms.
The good news is that I had an appointment with my doctor yesterday, and we’ve changed my medication a bit. The bad news is that the change involves an increase in my Seroquel dosage, which makes me nervous.
@Bad_dog
I would really, really, strongly encourage you to ensure that you and your guy can see each other in-person at least once a month. There is a danger: people are different when they are far away than when they are close up. It’s possible to fall deeply in love with the far-away person, then arrange to be close-up and discover that you don’t much like the close-up version. This can occur when you’ve already known the close-up person for a while, because people change over time.
For an example: I had a SO that I saw for more than a year. Then he moved away to go to college far away from me. We maintained close contact and I still loved him. Then he came to visit, and I discovered that over the course of a few months, his in-person persona had become kind of short-tempered, snippy, and just plain mean. He was hanging out with other people who were snippy and mean to one another, and insulted each other with jokes that weren’t actually jokes, and had absorbed that mode of interaction. He was just plain unlikable face-to-face, even though his distance persona was the same. Obviously that relationship didn’t last.
Wow, that picture is huge. LOL
Mouse:
I don’t have social anxiety but I am extremely introverted which a lot of people mistake for shy or stuck-up. What I like to do in order to put people at ease in my presence is to rehearse what I’m going to say or do beforehand.
For example, if I know a certain person is going to be at an event, I lay out an agenda of talking points (ask about her Mom, compliment her shoes, ask her if she completed some task she mentioned the last time she saw me) and try to hit those talking points during my time with them.I try to let the people around me do most of the talking.
In situations that are totally unfamiliar to me I’ve crafted a rather outgoing and bold persona. Someone who is not actually me who can alk up to people and loudly introduce herself and say funny, risky things. This extrovert version f me laughs loudly and likes to dance. (I try to forget about her when she’s not around though so as not to dwell on anything she might have said or done.)
These are just some tactics I’ve found helpful.
Hello all, this is the first time I post here after many a month of lurking. I don’t think I have much to add to the ongoing discussion and certainly wouldn’t want to steal anyone’s attention and needed support. However, I’d like to share my own problem in dealing with what might be a long term, low-intensity depression.
I’m a 27 year old white male and in the last two years, I’ve been busy slowly getting to grips with the fact that I might be gifted and have quite a few personal demons either related or unrelated to that. I wasn’t quite aware of that, but now I have begun to realise that I am simply quite unhappy, mostly on an emotional level.
That I’m likely gifted has lead to me having problems fitting in, or at least finding people I’m on the same wavelength with (I’m generally considered ‘weird’ or at least ‘different’ or ‘eccentric’ by those who know me somewhat). While it has also served me well academically and artistically, it appears to have wrecked havoc on my personal life as I also set very high standards to myself and others and generally feel inadequate in every single way, despite knowing I have quite a few things going for me. Whatever I do, there’s always that little voice telling me I could have done better or that people simply do not like me or find me a curiosity rather than a person they take seriously. I’m also frustrated by the fact that, on account of being or at least feeling different from others, I always have to adapt to others but rarely if ever get the same in return. The truth is probably different to some degree, but the feeling is there nevertheless. I have trouble opening up to others as I was brought up along the lines of ‘buckle up!’, don’t feel I was ever allowed to express myself much and fear vulnerability. Given that, my standards, compatibility with others and my self esteem issues, maintaining social relationships has generally been hard for me even if I do deeply desire meaningful ones.
As you probably suspect, this insecurity also affects my romantic life. I’ve been in relationships and had some flings and I suspect I might be quite attractive. However, I’ve never been with somebody I truly loved and that saddens me quite a lot. The women I did love have all rejected me, which certainly hasn’t worked wonders for my selfesteem and the dearth of truly positive experiences has made me very insecure and fearful when it comes to women and quite jealous of those people who do have a relationship. In a sense, it means I understand the manosphere’s frustration with being unsuccesful with women. However, I’m still very fond of women, deeply despise misogyny and I sincerely hope I might find that mutually loving, appreciative relationship in the future. On the other hand, if there’s one thing I fear it’s that I never will do so and will end up bitter and alone. This the more since this has happened to quite a few men in my family.
On a positive note, I’ve yesterday and today decided to open up to a co-worker I value and consider a friend (though I’m fearful of voicing this). She was quite wonderful and I am very glad I confided in her. I hope this will encourage me to open up some more in the future.
PoM: Nice. Should I put up pics of the last book mockup I’d done?
I’m way better in mental health terms but my life is still ugghhh hard. It’s a great injustice that I will not be receiving a medal for it. My stepson’s mum is in hospital again (it’s been a week, she says it’s going to be another two) to get tests that could be done as an outpatient, but you know, whatever, that would be understandable. It’s the fact that she wants us to try to fit a two hour each way journey to the hospital she’s in into a four year old’s schedule on a budget that is insufficient as it is. Then when we point those things out, an earful of abuse. We ask if, given the state of her health, it wouldn’t be better for my stepson to go to nursery here instead of where she lives given that he’s only been going for a month and is now entering his second straight week of absence…guess what we get, yeah, an earful of abuse. No matter how much she takes, we’re supposed to sit meekly and wait for her to tell us when we do and don’t have my stepson, and if we ever say “this is actually hugely disruptive and inconvenient for us and for him, can we do something about that?” we get insulted and abused.
It’s good to have energy and not be depressed at the moment, but I’m still drained and frustrated and incredibly fucking angry. I want to scream at this woman. She has dictated my life for the past two years and shat on my fucking momentous efforts to deal with that, every time. It makes everything so much harder. Plus it obviously impacts on my stepson’s behaviour and happiness in a big way.
Also my washing machine exploded and my landlord has, of course, not got back to me after promising on Friday to have it to me by yesterday. I phoned the letting agency as soon as I got in from uni today but the property manager was busy and has, of course, not phoned me back.
Hello everyone!
I’m not a regular commenter, although I do lurk a lot. But I figured I would share with you all – over the past month, I came out as a lesbian to my parents. At 26 years old, it was long past due. They have been…well, awful, as I expected them to be. But I have the support of my sister/roommate, and my utterly perfect girlfriend. Said girlfriend is moving out here by Christmas, which will make everything much easier.
Much love and kind thoughts to everyone who is dealing with mental health issues. I would not wish those on anyone. Remember to be kind to yourselves, and treat yourselves as gently as you would treat a stranger.
I’m too anxious to go to DBT group today.
My drinking has hit a fever-pitch because it’s delving up issues I buried and buried and buried, and now I’m having flashbacks, panic attacks, and nightmares up the wazoo. I know my partner is frustrated with me, but I just hate reality so fucking much right now. And I’m terrified that he’ll get frustrated to the point of not wanting to be with me. I’m trying, but I’m also not trying because for fuck’s sake, flashing back to repeated rapes and beatings is not fun, to say the very fucking least.
I’m so scared right now, and I want to get better, but I don’t want to remember. I just don’t want to be me anymore.
Okay, so that was mortifying. Have a comic about how feminism benefits men and women: http://m.imgur.com/gallery/n01WW
All the hugs (contact and non-contact) and good thoughts and snuggly kittens and bouncing puppies and sleek fishies and anything else that brings you all comfort. Sorry for everyone who’s going through a bad stretch, and hope things get better soon. MORE HUGS.
Leum, I went through a very similar thing when I was a psych inpatient in my early teens. Once, a schizophrenic girl stole a fire escape key. One of us saw her do it, we discussed it in the TV room and decided not to do anything about it because it would cut through the monotony if she tried to escape. Someone must have caught her before she got the chance, but I still feel awful about the fact that I thought like that. It wore off very quickly though once I was out of that environment, if that is any consolation.
Ryeash, DBT was so hard going at first when I had it. When you’re used to operating dysfunctionally but unconsciously, unpacking all the shit you’ve been ignoring is, as you know, awful. But I can’t even tell you how much it helped me over time. My self-harm problem used to be a constant issue and I’ve been free for approaching three years. I am not without mental health problems but I have to recognise how different a place I’m in now thanks to those techniques that it was a fucking hateful slog to actually learn. If that makes sense. God I resented it at the time. “This is mumbo jumbo, if I could control this shit would I be in this position, how can thinking about the things I spend so much time trying to stop myself thinking about be helpful?” And I didn’t feel like I was trying, was I? I don’t know now. I did sit down and try to do the breathing, I filled out the diaries and felt like I was making it up half the time, but maybe a year after finishing the course of treatment I realised one day “well fuck, I’ve been using this shit without noticing, and it’s helping.”
Hey, this is my first personal-stuff thread! And mostly I just wanted to post to say: @Policy of Madness, that’s some amazing cross-stitch. And that I hope things start to look up soon for everyone who’s having a bad month. Mine has been… mostly just weird, but not that bad.
@Zephyrus, I was labelled ‘gifted’ as a kid and I think it definitely contributed to me feeling alienated and ‘different’ and all that, and having issues with insecurity etc. In retrospect though I don’t think I even really was gifted so much as maybe hyperlexic or something. Have you considered the possibility you might be some sort of not-neurotypical? It might help give you some sort of framework to understand your issues better if so, maybe.
@cloudiah:
Oh man, did they ever. They slept through the whole night last night, except my boy got up at 11 and suffered himself to be rocked back to sleep by 11:20, which is blazingly fast by his standards. My girl got up just after 7, and I had to wake my boy up for day care.
@blahlistic:
Well, they’ve started climbing on the coffee table, which Beloved doesn’t like. She’s more upset that her mom let the babies do it after B told them not to; she feels “undercut” by her mother.
Me, my attitude is that bumps and bonks happen. Which doesn’t mean I don’t catch them if they look like going off the edge of our bed.
And thanks!
@Buttercup:
Isn’t it ever. B actually has tried sidewalk chalk and crayons with them, but everything must be taste-tested first and they hadn’t quite caught on that these things make marks. Now they’ve been in day care for a couple months, maybe we ought to try again.
And thank you!
@emilygoddess — I wish I could have been there! Sadly, there’s the whole living-in-Tennessee thing. Not to talk behind their back or anything, but I hope LBT were looking at least rested.
Have another pic!
http://i.imgur.com/UVRz6rf.jpg
I’m having a little trouble deciding on one of the proposed amendments to the Illinois Constitution. I’m certainly voting “yes” on the amendment that prohibits voter discrimination, but the Crime Victims’ Bill of Rights I’m having a little trouble with.
I obviously support the concept behind it. My concern is mainly with the prosecutors. I’m afraid that they would be less likely to hand over exculpatory evidence that could help the defense. When we had the death penalty, Illinois was second only to Florida in the number of death row exonerations.
I guess my problem is I want this amendment to pass, but I also want prosecutors to be honest. Why can’t I have both? 🙁
Wow. All the sympathy for everyone going through difficult stuff. I don’t have anything great to add. I’ll put some hugs in the box other commenters left.
The kitty bunks are awesome.
The cross stitch is gorgeous.
The babies are adorable
@K
Thank you so much. Everything you said is pretty much spot on with how I’m feeling. That makes me hopeful. I mentally complain any time people make me do breathing exercises–this is so stupid, why am I doing this, what are we, three?–but I always feel worlds better and more focused afterwards. And I do feel like I’m making shit up with the diary cards. I also have days where I feel like busting out my exacto and completely excising the ‘joy’ column. Like, “really dude? You expect me to feel HAPPY? Fuck you and fuck ‘joy’ too!”
My partner asked me what the endgame of therapy is. I told him there really isn’t one. It’s just about taking things as they come. He said that sounded like a crock. I really wish, but really don’t, that I could give people who don’t grasp trauma five minutes in my brain. It’s like a gang war in there any given time. Rational me vs. Irrational me, duking it out over the best way to deal with what happened to me without killing the people who did it because that’s illegal. Constant battles, constant doubt and fear and pain and rage, no rest from it for long. You’d think I like sleep, but sleep is actually worse. If it’s not nightmares about hidden monsters coming at me from any angle, it’s dreams of a better life, which are almost worse. You wake up feeling bereft and like you’d rather live constantly in dreams than in life.
Lots of user-defined hugs for everyone here!
It’s good to hear of Ami Angelwings. She hasn’t been around here in ages. I hope it wasn’t because of some fight here on the Mammoth.
Warning: this post is all about me.
We just had baby number two. He’s healthy and so am I. This labor was a lot worse than the first time. I’m still a little upset by the fact that the nurse who saw me on check in apparently decided I wasn’t really in labor. Through a combination of factors, but largely due to this one nurse, I was at the hospital for almost three hours and dilated to five before I got any pain meds. It might have been even longer if there hadn’t been a shift change which got a better nurse.
It’s now been a week, I can’t seem to shake the helpless feeling of being in pain, trying to explain what was happening and not being believed.
So that librarian job I didn’t get a couple weeks ago . . . I found out the person who did get it is a native speaker of a foreign language that is pretty useful in the area, so that may have had more to do with it than them hating me or with me giving the Worst Interview Ever (I am only fluent in English). This is both kind of frustrating and kind of a relief. Anyway, onward. My 2nd round interview at the other library is still two weeks away.