Santé Mentale

My mental health is far too precarious for me to feel like a functional human being. It likely doesn't help that the only people I have regular face-to-face contact with (due largely to a combination of location, funds, and lack of employment) are a ten-year-old girl and a 54-year-old man. There is the desk clerk at the library, but I don't consider handing someone my library card and being told You're on computer three quality time. Call me picky.

I'm in an odd position, actually. I'm what you might call a loner, or perhaps socially inept, or even misanthropic. I don't feel a need to constantly be around other people, and have never been a social butterfly, but there comes a time now and then when I find myself in company and realize I actually enjoy it.

I've been craving social interaction lately, which is odd enough on its own, but what's even stranger is realizing that I no longer know where to find it. My college friends have had a couple years to move away and get distracted with other things, and since I've got to drive fifteen or so miles to get to the nearest town and I'm broke as dirt, I find myself testing my Internet to see how far I can stretch 5GB per month.

I'm freakin' out, man.

Winter is hard enough as it is. The seasonal affective disorder kicks in and when I'm not drooping from a desperate need to sleep, I'm on-edge, trying not to have a breakdown. No, I will not throw things and scream and kick and generally make an ass of myself because doing so doesn't actually make me feel better, it just makes me feel out of control. I enjoy control.

You would think that all this would motivate me into a thorough job search. I want a job, I want to look for a job, I know that I have skills which would make me a valuable employee, but my mind is all over the place, unable to concentrate on much of anything.

You're doing a pretty damned good job right now, you say.

My mind really is all over the place. I'm just a really good writer, wink, nudge.

I'm good at psyching myself out. If I can't concentrate, how am I going to function in the workplace? If I have no social skills, how will I ever make it through a job interview, assuming I can make it to a job interview? Strangely, when I get to a certain point in a high-stress situation, my never-ending thoughts clear, I go on autopilot, and I cruise through with smiles and grace. It is, however, difficult to push myself into that state, so I continue hovering on the edge of OMGWTF SHOOT ME. (Don't really, please. Unless you feel like it, then shoot to kill, not to injure.)

And then we have suicidal thoughts. I've been dealing with depression for so long that it feels normal to have them now and then. Just your average little, I could easily drive into that solid concrete wall or I wonder how many of my medications could kill me if I downed the whole bottle? but they pass as quickly as that and it's back to regular life.

Mid-winter I have to think about it for a while before I can move on. I have family who likes to look at the corpse before it's buried, I could at least make sure I die without facial wounds, and my meds would probably just give me seizures and make me puke. Then I'd have medical bills on top of everything else. Damn.

Just completely lost my train of thought, a side effect of overstressing.

So I lost my cheese factory turtle recently. Can't believe I still even had that thing.

This is my anticlimactic ending. C'est la vie.

99% of people who read this won't re-post it.

People who have backbones, people who read their friends' statuses, people who think abuse is bad and people who believe any number of honorable things will NOT repost this because they see it so much that it begins to lose meaning, or they're tired of reading that they're unworthy if they don't re-post or click like.

Am I really not your friend because I wouldn't post the third letter of my last name? I read the post, must I then prove my worth by responding to every chain-post on every friend's wall?

Yes, I added you to get friends on an application. I needed more neighbors, more vamps in my clan, whatever, and I added hundreds at a time a few times. But if you've been around more than a couple months, I've kept you for a reason. This is where you can pretend to get worried that I've stalked you, because I've visited your profile. I've kept up with your public status updates, and we probably have more in common than the games we choose to play, though that alone says something.

Some of you may have noticed we don't even play the same app anymore. Are you still a wizard? How many farms do you have? I may not remember, but when you change your avatar, I notice. I send a prayer your way when you ask, but I don't click like because hell, you don't know me. I don't know you, either. I know this guy's cat is stupid, but hilarious, I know this woman is beautiful in a way that implies she doesn't realize it, but it's all superficial.

Okay, so maybe I'm really not your friend.

I don't click that stuff for my family or my "real life" friends either, though. Really, Aunt So-And-So? You're going to delete everyone who doesn't have the backbone to re-post a copy/pasted, recycled, mass-produced comment? Delete me, then.

In "real life" I'm one of those people who's quiet so much of the time that people forget I'm there. They either assume I know everything and tell me nothing or tell me things several times because they're sure no one has mentioned it. Thanks, Dad. You told me about your congestion (read: constipation) medicine when you called two hours ago. I haven't forgotten. No, Grandma, I wasn't told that my cousin is having a bridal shower tomorrow, I did not plan on going and I have nothing to give her.

Don't re-post this if you don't care. Don't re-post it if you're too busy. Don't re-post it simply because the title has challenged you, or because you labor under a belief that people will think you uncaring or unpatriotic if it doesn't immediately grace your Facebook wall.

If it pisses you off, however, you may re-post it to share another example of how much stupidity exists on the internet. You may also re-post it if you think it makes a good point, or if the whim takes you, or if you're bored.

And remember, even though 99% of my readers WILL NOT RE-POST THIS, between 28% and 76% of statistics are made up on the spot anyway. So sayeth I.

The "F" Word

No, the other "F" word. The one that people don't like to hear from the subject of their romantic interest. Yes, that one. But let's go on.

The movie was great. I wasn't expecting the Harry/Hermione topless makeout scene, no matter that I'd been warned, then smirked at (a sign that H~ was serious and looking forward to being proven right). They did a good job of condensing a 500-page camping trip into something epic. You're not here for a movie review, though.

My date didn't look directly at me the entire night. I'm not unfortunate-looking and had been complimented via text-message on my Facebook picture, so I know it wasn't because my face was offensive. I looked pretty damned good, actually. I can understand not being as talkative in person as you are in text, considering I'm the same way, but you know the silence has gone on too long when your date turns on the car stereo.

Not to say we didn't manage to talk. At one point I was retelling the glory of Prom Night in Hollywood and Other Interesting Tales, and we compared the kind of history you learn in the Midwest versus the kind you learn in Southern California, but conversation aside, no sparks. Not one. Even if my date had nice teeth there would have been no sparks.

I'm grateful to the friend who tried to set us up. Texting was genius and I could see hanging out with this person again. No romance though, and that's why I haven't accepted a second offer to go see the Effing Trans-Siberian Orchestra. I am not shitting you, if you'll pardon the language. This person offered to buy me an inexpensive tv because mine is in storage, mentioned us stargazing at their place with their telescope, subscribed to my effing YouTube (which they'd have had to find first), and commented on three of my pictures.

Quoth a friend: That's what happens when you talk to computer savvy people.

The consensus is that searching someone is normal. However, most of us keep our searches secret. We go look at our blind date's photos, or maybe we even Google their screen name, and if we're a little crazy watch the videos they made five years ago, but for God's sake, don't leave messages on everything until you've known them at least a week. This person has now added me on Facebook, YouTube, AIM, and YIM, commented on the only three photos that don't actually have people in them, subscribed to my videos, and told me via text what they thought about these things they found. Add to that the fact that I get texted from noon until probably five, then again from about seven until I say I have to go to bed, and I'm feeling smothered. From someone I've seen in person once, known less than a week, and haven't ever made eye contact with.

So I've been looking for gentle ways to let this person down. We got along, but I'm not interested in romance. From them. The Almighty Internet says that we haven't known each other so long that an e-mail is a crappy way to send a tasteful note, but how can I do that when I just keep getting texted? I'd say stalker potential, but I'm counting on the fact that we live a good hour and a half drive apart to discourage that.

If it wasn't a mutual friend who'd set us up, this would be easy. I'd just send a text that they're great, but I'm not interested, and it would be done. I don't want to hurt my friend, though. She hand-picked someone, knowing how long it's been since I dated, and said, Here, I give you this, my friend, who I, your friend, find worthy for your attentions. She couldn't have predicted all this.

I usually make a huge deal out of things, but this is justified, right? Even after just one date?

Nervescitement

I am near puking with nerves/excitement, which I will hereafter refer to as nervescitement. (I totally made that word up, it doesn't exist on Google. Seriously.)

I am not antisocial so much as asocial. I'm pretty withdrawn, and I rarely seek company, which is a cycle that feeds upon itself. People know this about me, and so they don't invite me to things. I don't get invited to things, so I miss out on the social opportunity and continue to be unsure of myself in company, or at least I feel that way. Apparently I'm perfectly normal, despite the tension constantly coursing through my body.

But let's skip the potential diversion into Freud's theories and my childhood.

I don't date, which is mostly situational. Family still occasionally tell me they know someone, and I roll my eyes and they say that I should meet this person, then never mention it again or tell me later that it wouldn't have worked anyway. I'm talking extended family though, not the sibling and cousin who still occasionally threaten to buy me an hour's "entertainment" from someone of questionable moral character. I know, I could've said hooker, but I am completely in love with metaphors.

So when a friend texted me that they knew someone, I rolled my eyes. I was given basic information that this mystery person likes Harry Potter, classic rock, and the movie Labyrinth, and I gave the typical mhm, yeah, whatever type of response. I was told to look this person up on Facebook. Yeah, sure. I was told to text this person and then given a number.

Hold the phone, there. Text?

Texting is not intimidating. It's something I do regularly, and it gives me time to proofread before speaking and, if necessary, to censor myself. When you're face-to-face with a stranger and you're supposed to be making small-talk, when they give you a two-word answer, you can't go do something else for five minutes, then scroll through previous conversation for something amusing to refer back to. Or, at least, I can't.

I'm a master at dropping conversation when it's with someone I don't know well. Then, once I open up, I give mini-speeches like these. My sister rolls her eyes at my stories, as though she doesn't tell them, too. My friends, who I eventually realize have gone mostly silent, with the occasional witty comment, apparently enjoy the show. "It's cute."

But back on topic. Since texting doesn't intimidate me, I did it. I texted and was witty and charming and all the things I am online, with the buffer of the computer screen and the time to phrase things perfectly. The moment things began to slow, I said I had to go, leaving before the conversation went stale.

So after two days of this, I've been text-asked to go see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows this weekend. My mental conversation with myself went something like this:

me1: You don't know this person and you're going somewhere with them?!
me2: Yeah, that's what dates are for. DUH. You'll be perfectly safe.
me1: Unless they're a serial killer!
me2: They mod a Christian website, and a sweet, personable friend referred you. They've been screened.
me1: Meh. But what if I make a total nerd of myself?
me2: They like Potter, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Lord of the Rings. I think you're safe.
me1: Omg, they're a nerd. I'm so out of their league.
me2: You have recently decided that cosplay looks like fun, you hypocrite.
me1: Touché. But what if I get shy and come across as a snob, which you know happens a lot.
me2: Deathly Hallows.
me1: But...
me2: Deathly. Hallows.
me1: *can think of no further arguments*

So I'm going out. On a date. With someone I don't know. I won't tell you how long it's been since I went on anything remotely like a date (aside from the time I was tricked into a date, but that's another story). We may put away childish things, but the second someone from the opposite sex is involved, it's high school all over again.

OMG I AM GOING ON A DATE. WTF AM I THINKING? Do I need to clean my apartment? How long should I hide all of this from my family/daughter? What if I fall back into serial monogamy? (Which, for me, was insta-attachment, two years, then BAM!Over. Twice.) OMG I HAVE A FRIGGIN TWIN BED. Which is the most ridiculous thought of all, considering my personality, my values, this person's values as a good Christian, and that we haven't even met yet.

me1: OMG! I don't even go to church! I'm practically a heathen! I'm not worthy!
me2: Calm the hell down! Not all Christians think everyone but them is a godless sinner!
me1: But what if they expect me to go to Church?!
me2: OMG SHUT UP!!!
me1: *whimper*

So, making a mountain out of a molehill, but it's an adventure, right? :p