Lonesome

This weekend, my wife and I were invited to the birthday celebrations of an old friend of hers, up in Scotland. We could only afford for one of us to go, so I encouraged her to book flights and get on up there and have fun. I've actually been looking forward to it: the munchkin is away too, so I am getting my first 100% solo weekend since E and I first got serious, and my first nights alone in a bed since we moved in together in September 2011.

I won't say I haven't enjoyed some solo time, because I have. I've watched things that E won't watch with me (LotR, yay!) and got a heap of stuff done around the house that is just easier with no one else underfoot. Plus, loooong uninterrupted bath, exercising with no one around to see, and so on. A break from people is good.

But now I'm starting to feel a little lonely, and more significantly, I'm channelling the deep, disturbing loneliness of so many solitary hours in my 20s.

I get what I call 'location flashbacks' all the time. There is usually no rhyme or reason to these: as in, I'll be fishing my travel card out of my purse and suddenly an image of the intersection of Roe Highway and Kalamunda Road will pop into my head. These images never make any sense or have any discernible trigger, so I generally ignore them.

Today, however, all of the images have been of my house in Goomalling or my flat in Sydney. The two places where I spent the longest, loneliest hours of my life so far. The two had a lot in common: removed from my family and existing friends, struggling to make new friends in a new place, very uncertain about myself and my life.

In both of those places, I was surrounded by silence. I remember it well... long empty day after long empty day. I pottered about, frittering away time, lost in my depression and confusion and ennui and need. I told myself I enjoyed the quiet, that I could never stand living with a housemate, but in the end it was a comforting lie. I did not like being alone, and it was not good for me.

I've learned a lot since then - about myself, about how to make friends, about how to meet my own needs and not fear them. But for some reason today's empty, silent house has really thrown me.

It's a good reminder, I think. Even though the two members of my little family, with all their quirks, may sometimes drive me to long for silence... I don't really want it. Not a return to the long, empty solitude and the deep sadness that went with it. My life now is full, happy and satisfying, and I'm very grateful for that. The years of loneliness are gone, and I don't need to fear them any more.

Typing all this out has helped me process what I've been feeling this evening, and I'm not feeling maudlin and desperate like I was at the beginning. But I'm posting it nonetheless... to remind me why people are a good thing!

Trying to keep trying

I'm not feeling good today. I'm getting over this bug, mostly, but I still feel sort of off-colour and drained.

When I get stressed I recycle a lot of anger at the world - non-specific, undirected anger that stems from the problems and challenges of my childhood. I'm feeling a lot of pressure and anxiety at the moment with reports coming up and the financial pressures of Christmas requiring a juggling act. I'm also experiencing a lot of loneliness and dissatisfaction with being single. I know I need to make peace with that, build my own life etc but right now I'm in an I-just-don't-care-I-want-a-family state. I don't know how to deal with myself when I'm like that! I know part of it is just the virus-imposed weepiness masquerading as cluckiness, and of course parts of me are going to be reacting to the fact that so, so many of my friends are pregnant (including the announcements by two of my close friends from primary school *sigh*).

Some of the feelings are real and some are just reactions, and I do know that I need to work through the issues that make me feel that way. I need to let go of the anger at past events, and let go of the negativity that I attach to being different, stop comparing myself and just let my life be what it is, when it is. I need to put aside the frustration and just enjoy what I've got, but it's hard, and I'll admit that a part of me is resisting. The misery and depression are oh-so-familiar, and soothing in their own way. Living healthily and positively involves giving up the security blanket of depression and self-deprecation, and that's scary.

So I'm trying to just keep on trying, keep on wanting to get healthy, and not fall into my old ways. I'm trying to find some behaviour to replace sitting on the couch crying over the things I want and don't have, which doesn't involve spending a lot of money. Hmm.

Changing Hurts.

Growing pains of the soul and mind are no less painful than those of the body.

At the moment I'm digging deep into my childhood, doing the work I need to do to understand why I get pulled into negative relationships time and time again. Part of the answer is the straightforward issue of being an Aspie growing up in a neurotypical word which has given me a desperate need to belong, to be normal, to be seen as fitting in. Sticking with bananaheads because being in a grown-up relationship made me one of the "real people" is part of my problem.

But the more painful issue is one of sibling dynamics. Throughout my childhood, my brother was the one who acted up and acted out. Not that he had no reason - diagnosed with ADHD and undiagnosed with Aspergers, he didn't exactly have it easy. But his problems were so visible. He got into trouble, he had manic episodes, he broke windows, he had to change schools so many times because the staff were running out of patience with his issues. Not all the time - not every day - but he was certainly a high-maintenance child.

I was the opposite. I never acted out, and when my problems did bubble to the surface, they came in the form of hysterics and inconsolable tears. I was a withdrawn, introverted child, the polar opposite of my brother. My problems were no less severe - diagnosed ADD and undiagnosed Aspergers - but I was no trouble. My brother received the lion's share of everyone's attention, because he had to. He needed it, for sure. But I needed it too . . . and never got it. That is the great unmet need of my childhood - for someone to look past the fact that my brother was loud and I was quiet, and realise that I needed help too.

Time and time again, when my brother worked himself up into a state and started acting out, my parents would rescue him - new school, new counsellor, new hobby etc. For years and years and years I waited for my parents to rescue me too. I just knew that sooner or later they would realise just how much pain I was in, how much I was struggling at school, and pull me out, find me a school that would work for me. It never happened . . . because they never knew. And I never asked for help. How could I ask, when my brother so clearly needed their attention more than I?

One effect of this dynamic is relatively easy to deal with: I need to learn to acknowledge my own needs, recognise them as valid, and be prepared to stand up for them. Another effect . . . not so easy. I have to ask myself: do I get into these relationships where I am still suffering and still living out that silently-going-crazy coping role because I am still waiting to be rescued? Is the part of me that puts up with these relationships that same little girl who waited all those years for someone to notice the pain? Am I unable to say no to crazy-making situations because it's my way of giving the universe / my peers / my parents / others one last chance to do what I needed them to do all those years ago?

I have to put that pain to bed forever before I can let someone into my life. I need to make peace with the fact that child-Christine and teen-Christine are never going to be rescued. I have to learn to live with how it was, not how it should have been.

I haven't the faintest idea where to start, but I'll get there somehow.

I'm watching "The Holiday" this evening and want to share this quote:

Iris: "I wanted to get away from one guy, an ex-boyfriend who just got engaged and forgot to tell me."
Arthur: "So, he’s a schmuck."
Iris: "As a matter of fact he is a huge schmuck . . . how did you know?"
Arthur: "He let you go. This is not a hard one to figure out."

EXACTLY.

It looks like it's probably a virus

I haven't got the blood test results back yet, but it looks like Mum has the same thing, and I've also been reminded that Dad is still recovering from a virus that put him in bed for four weeks, and I think stiffness and tiredness were symptoms of that. Mum and I can't have caught it off Dad, as we haven't seen him, but a family friend has it as well so it's probably doing the rounds. I'm just hoping I've got a mild version, not the version Dad has had!

I'm 'down' again today, possibly because I a) pushed myself to get some housework done yesterday so that I would feel more comfortable; and b) had to get up at 6:15am to get to work this morning (although I woke up at 6:14 courtesy of Jemima - damn programmed cat! lol). Whatever the cause, I'm totally wiped - dozy, miserable, sore, heavy-headed etc.

I'm a bit shaky too, but that could be caffeine! I'm trying to keep myself going with not-totally-diet-disasterous drinks - I've got a huge soy iced coffee with no cream or icecream, and I plan to follow that up with a V8 fruit drink, and I've got a V8 veggie drink for this afternoon. But I'm not entirely sure it's going to work. My knees and ankles are on strike, my sciatic nerve is starting to twang, and moving my head fast is right out. Mwaaaaah!

I *hate* being sick.

Feeling better today . . .

. . . which is not surprising considering the see-saw-ing my moods have been doing lately.

I went to the doctor yesterday to try to find out if there could be a medical reason for my random moods, weepiness, aching muscles and constant tiredness. Sure, I've been under a lot of stress and dealing with a lot of stuff lately, but I think I'm not being as resiliant as I should be. Plus the aches and pains are getting worse, I'm losing my ability to run up the stairs at home, and I should not be nodding off at my desk after a good night's sleep.

The doctor ordered a barrage of blood tests - iron, folate, thyroid function, glucose tolerance, cholesterol, stomach ulcers, something called ESR which I think tests for rheumatoid disorders and cancer (could stand for erythrocite sedimentation rate), and something called LFT which I'm guessing is a liver function test. I have to fast tonight and go in first thing tomorrow morning to have them all done. Ugh. They'll probably all come back negative (unless my hypoglycaemia shows up on the glucose test, but it will probably be the diabetes one which doesn't pick up hypoglycaemia), but at least then I'll know that it's none of the above.

On the other hand, there's a chance I'm not just stressed out to the point of hypochondria, and there actually is something wrong. In which case it's a good thing I'm getting the tests done lol.

*And* . . .

And on top of all of that below, I've recently become uncomfortably aware of how much of my personality I have to keep supressed in order to be considered "normal" and not get laughed at by all and sundry. A lot of the things I love (porcelain dolls or Victoriana, for example) are considered immature interests for a 25-year-old, but I defy anyone to give me a logical reason why collecting porcelain dolls is any less mature than collecting china animals or Schwarovski crystal or Royal Doulton plates! Or anything!

And on the flipside, I'm frustrated with myself for caring so much about being teased that I can't just go out and pursue those interests anyway. I'm letting other peoples' silly prejudices affect me, but I can't help it. I'm sensitive enough about being 25, single, and a bit plump, and I feel like doing something "childish" (like collecting porcelain dolls) would brand me forever with the "silly romantic overgrown fat girl, probably a virgin" label (Terry Pratchett readers: think Agnes).

I just want to be able to do what I want and be happy about it, but I can't and it hurts.

And on top of all that I'm lonely and "clucky", and life just isn't any fun at the moment :-(

Gaack!

I am so stressed right now - work is just insane and I'm not coping with it at all. My boss keeps asking me to do things that just can't be done in the timeframe she wants them done in, but the timeframe is inflexible so I have to do them anyway. I'm considering writing little fables about bosses that ask the impossible (The Boss Who Cried "Now!" springs to mind as a possible title ...) and leaving them around the place. Plus it's apparently all my fault that a government department isn't getting back to us quickly, as if government departments *ever* get back to us quickly especially when we've made difficult requests!

And on top of that I'm feeling decidedly under-the-weather (a cold or too much wheat or both, I'm thinking both) and I'm worn out because I didn't sleep well. And I can't see properly because my new glasses haven't arrived yet. *And* I have to write a uni admission application and a scholarship application in the next two weeks. Not to mention trying to get this ****ing Nutrimetics business off the ground and trying to head off the well-meaning people who want to nag me about it!

. . . considering curling up under the desk and sobbing . . .