I am receiving a lot of questions about my living space. Simple put - I don’t have any private dedidcated living space. The people I live and love with have zero respect for my seclusion desires and will simply move into whatever room I am secluding myself in. At times I feel a deep sense of loathing and others I am relieved. There has been as of late a tomb like feeling. I feel suffocated and imprisoned by relationships. On the other hand they keep me alive.
I have had 2 hours of sleep because I must be out of my home for 5 hours today. I have a really great support system. I start the day with coffee, shower and then the long contemplation of how to dress. I want to be comfortable, appropriate, and nondescript. I don’t want to stand out. I have to take public transportation because that allows for the right amount of pressure to leave at a specific time. I cannot tolerate being late or anything that creates a need for additional communication. I try to practice and rehearse the day at least twice before going out. It’s exhausting. I try to set a goal for the day that can make it a success. Something simple. Usually involving catching a specific train. When I come home I feel this enormous relief that I survived and then start to count the hours until I must go out again. My own private revolving door at the gates of hell.
Today my walls are the only beauty I see. Why must I go out into such an ugly world?
In a word
I just agreed to go to my personal hell on earth on 5 different occasions because someone important to me is in a jam. It seems to me that I leave my home because there are people in my life that matter more than my disease. My only fear is this may not always be the case.
I wish I was a whisper
Today I saw a woman on a boat holding a child and she had this look of utter despair that so reflected how I felt. I just wanted to be in her pain. I just wanted her to know she was seen.
I feel as though I am backsliding. In the past year I have had 4 different jobs. I give myself credit for working at all. Each job has had too much “connection” time. The last job I quit there was actually daily hugs. It made my flesh crawly and often kept me awake at night in fear of the contact level of the next day. I can handle working with people but I can’t handle “connecting” with co-workers. I’m not shy. I am completely apathetic. I’m finding it hard to stay connected to the people I do care about. I find myself craving time alone more and more. It is becoming an acute pain. Everyday is a struggle.
Life has been complicated to say the least. I really just do not like talking to people. My worst days in the world are the ones that some person corners me for what seems like endless minutes of “conversation”. It is torturous hell listening to them. I always say something lame to try and make them stop. I don’t want to be lame. I hate feeling wrong all of time. I never know what to say because their blathering is so mindless. Why oh why is the world so full of random words? Why must I listen to your endless stream of words? I miss the silence of my walls. Every day is a struggle.
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