Oblivious Empath

pansexual (she/her) recovering bipolar type II, BPD, inattentive ADHD sufferer with interests that include mindfulness, Buddhism, existentialism, social justice, photography, collage art, and writing.

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To anyone who cares about me, I want to go psycho on their ass. I know you don't care (even if I know you do).

[obliviousempath]

I have a favorite person aside from myself, and it's scary, stressful and challenging. When we're not together I have to remind myself to depend on the self love that I have grown to know so well instead of spinning my wheels imagining negative scenarios. It's impossible to love someone without loving yourself first. Self esteem problems always get in the way. When I find myself struggling and unable to trust the situation I'm in, I remind myself that I was fine before I had him in my life, and that I will be fine no matter what happens. That's not to say that he's disposable or that I don't want him in my life, but only that I must keep myself as a top priority in order to keep things healthy and in perspective.

Last night I didn't hear from him all evening while he was at work or after he got done with work and when I tried to call he texted me saying that he had a family emergency and would call me as soon as he could. He spent the night in Chicago in the hospital at his pop's bedside, naturally not thinking about calling me. I stayed up until about 2 being worried about him. At that point I had a choice - Stay up all night being worried and drive myself crazy, or know within myself that I would hear from him the next day and go to sleep reassuring myself of that knowledge, and I chose the latter option. This morning he came home from Chicago and I talked to him. Now he's getting some much needed rest. He's not the best at calling me when he says he's going to all the time and I have been reminding myself that he's human too and has his own stuff he's going through and it isn't a reflection of his love for me or any lack of love for me. He has been trying to communicate better and I have been trying to be more understanding of where he's coming from, and less reactive to situations that would normally stress me out to no avail. We are both trying. With a fair amount of effort and compromise and constant communication I believe that we will be alright.

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My wrists want suicide. Veins are popping out and taunting me, but no. I have cats to look after, a kitten to raise, and finals to get through. I have more life to live. I just wish they would stop tempting me.

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I lost my true love on Christmas eve by being honest. He's experienced too much in his life to feel safe with me right now, and I'm trying to understand that because I love him. I love him so much that I want him to heal, even if it means never seeing me again. Ever since Christmas, I've been romantically cursed. Actually, it started before that. I'm sure part of it has to do with me and my expectations of people, but that is what it is. I have certain needs, and so many people seem to have zero appreciation for that. I'm not trying to be selfish or short sighted either. I recognize that others have needs and try to communicate and compromise in healthy ways, but no one seems willing or able to do that. I'm losing hope in love.

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You wanted me to lie to you so you could live in a false reality, and I couldn't do it. The worst crimes committed against me were done with people trying to protect me from the truth of the situation, so I won't do that to you, even though you think that's what you needed. If I were selfish, I would have lied and stayed happily in your arms, but you deserved the truth, however painful.

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I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to be honest in the foundation we were building together. I should have known it would be too much for you. I should have protected you from the truth, even though I would never want someone to do that to me. I may have lost you forever now, but I will never stop loving you.

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We suffer because we think non self is self, pain is pleasure, impermanence permanent. This is a basic outline of Buddhist ideas that got my attention a couple of years ago. I like to think that I have largely led a life of contemplation and self reflection, but when covid hit and I realized I was really bipolar for the first time while hitting the peak of my midlife crisis, I hit a new level of facing myself. It was lonely and frightening time, but I made a lot of progress and really got good at being alone and just being. When my dad died, it was another level. The impermanence of everything and everyone is an unavoidable reality that I have had to come to face. I, myself, am just as impermanent as anything else, and will inevitably cease to exist in this form at some point or another, not that I'm in any hurry. I do believe life is cyclical and that there is death and rebirth, but not in the sense that what is me as an identity will be born again in any sense. I used to have severe panic attacks over the thought of that. How can who I am ever cease to be when my consciousness is the number one thing I know? I don't panic about it anymore, mostly because I realize that when I cease to be, I will no longer have the ability to care about having an identity. I'll just simply be what I am, or rather, what I am not, and there will be no "me" to question anything. There will be nothing to hold on with, and letting go sounds alright to me. I wish I could live like people who imagine reuniting with their dead relatives in heaven happily ever after, but I don't honestly imagine that's the way things work, and I have to be honest with myself rather than live in a fool's paradise.

This is a difficult weekend with it being the anniversary of my dad's death and the rest of the world celebrating Halloween, but I have a plan in place, and I will get through. I appreciate having people in my life who care for me. It means a lot right now.

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I spend mornings with my LED light on, grasping for bits of pretend sunshine to fend off my depression. Exposed but not exposed. I haven't been myself lately. This time of year doesn't traditionally treat me well, and this year, with it coming up on a year since my dad died, it's particularly difficult. Facing the cold season for me is more than facing the cold weather and lack of sunshine. It also means facing the holidays. I hate that the holidays get to me, but they do. It feels like a time when everyone has family and I don't. Admittedly, it's my choice because I wrote my family off for never advocating for me against my abuser my entire life and for constantly making me feel invalidated in my adult life, but that really felt like a choice I had to make for myself. I spent most of my adult life being excluded from Christmases by my family so that my abuser and his kids could happily enjoy the holidays as if nothing ever happened, and I'm here to say now that it was never right in any way to do that to me. I will no longer tolerate being treated like garbage. I don't care if we're related. That's no reason to tolerate invalidation from anyone. If anything, your family holds more power to invalidate you, and I urge anyone with a toxic family background to not hesitate in leaving those people behind. It isn't easy, but it's worth it. Doors are opening to me to new places where I can make new connections with people and build my own "family," plus I still have my aunts, niece, cousins, etc on my mom's side of the family and I want to maintain my connection with them in my life. I recognize that I need to put forth effort to make that happen. At the moment, I am in this moment, okay with myself and where I am, but it's been a rough time lately and I often feel mediocre and unoriginal or will outright have negatively downward spiralling thoughts. Sometimes my efforts to not go off the deep end seem to fail, but I can say that I have caused no harm to myself, that I'm still putting one foot in front of the other, that I'm still here, and that on days I'm not thriving, at least I'm still surviving so that I can live to thrive again.

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I'm suffering fom extreme executive dysfunction, overwhelmed by grad school and dumbfounded by the realization that I once again have people in my life who only have access to me through fucking Facebook. I have decided to take a nap to reset myself, but I wanted to write a little bit first.

It has been nearly a year since my dad died of covid, and I just stumbled upon a blog entry I wrote after he died. It was all about how I was going to get into grad school and honor his memory by accomplishing myself. Now, here I am, in grad school, and I feel so overwhelmed and guilty with imposter syndrome, that until about a half hour ago, I was utterly paralyzed and could do nothing about anything. I knew it would be difficult, but I didn't know that getting myself through the difficult stuff would be so difficult, if that makes any sense. I thought I would just study my ass off and do whatever it takes, but I often lack energy, motivation, and wherewithal to do anything at all and I have to pace myself and work piecemeal in order to accomplish anything. Philosophy level graduate work is not something I can just power through. That's okay though. I will have to go about it in the way that works for me. Maybe that means leaving myself longer periods of time for studying because I know I'll need longer break periods to recuperate. Maybe it means having less of a social life. That's okay too. I know that I needed to read what I wrote while I was still processing my dad's death to remind myself how much this meant to me a year ago when I first started considering applying for grad school and to rekindle that spark within myself. My imposter syndrome can't even believe that I even got into grad school, but I did, so now that I'm here, I don't want to scare myself into a paralysis that would have me squander all of my aspirations into nothing. I am struggling and I am overwhelmed, but I haven't ruined anything yet and there's a chance I won't. I'm going to try to empty my mind of stress and hopefully restart myself with a nap and begin with a fresh perspective in a couple of hours.

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I feel like I haven't had much to say lately. I'm tired of reiterating the same tired affirmations, however necessary they are in my life. There's something about my loneliness that's very connected to my trauma, and I find it difficult to explain. When I was growing up, I felt like I never had a moment to myself. Not really. I never had any real solitude or privacy, which I desperately needed. Every thought I had, my obsessed brother was right there listening to it, and it has screwed up my mind and my interpersonal relationships immeasurably. Sometimes I find myself pushing people away or picking fights with people in my life to get rid of them so that I can return to my solitude. Part of this is because I still crave the solitude that I didn't have when I was a child, and part of it is because I feel like I don't deserve any of the relationships I have. It's as if my desire to express my thoughts and feelings to my friends scares me because it reminds me of being young and having someone share in my every thought and activity the way my abuser did, even though it's not remotely the same thing. It's a rich, complicated tapestry of reasons why I find it so difficult to strike a balance between solitude and reaching out to people. I'm still not even explaining it very well because I know there's a lot more to it than what I've described. I want to reach out to people. I feel alone most of the time. Moments freeze yet time flies.

I'm sure I must be depressed on some level, but on many other levels, I'm just glad to be alive and aware of myself. I often find myself feeling like people don't care about me but I recognize that thoughts like that are not only illogical, but are my mind acting against me.

I also recognize that it's my own job to care about myself because there are always going to be times when other people just can't be there. I'm probably not reaching out enough though. I don't know. I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow and I feel like I suddenly have a lot to talk over with him.

I know I have made some progress in certain areas. I've been letting my guard down with people more and letting people see my apartment, even though it is far from perfect. It will never be perfect. I did do a great deal with it, but I fear becoming stagnant on it. Right now my priority is not letting it backslide, and that's just how it is. I have to let myself be vulnerable and let people in. Those who would judge me because of my messy living environment have no business being in my life in the first place.

My job is still going well. I like working for a co-op. I like the mentality, I like my customers, most of my managers are cool, and my coworkers are amazing people. I don't have the constant dread in the pit of my stomach about going to work now like I did when I was working for WEAP. I feel this is a much less stressful environment for me.

I have had some success with reaching out to friends and am grateful to those who have gotten me out of my apartment and out of my head to go skating or to sing some songs.

Really, I don't have a lot to complain about, just a a little bit of a feeling of ennui or discontentment, which is really a first world problem, I suppose. My loneliness does run very deep though, and I have to work on resolving myself to it or doing something to change it. I may just need one or two more friends in my support network.

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I fucked someone tonight who has no respect for me after you walked away from something special that we had. Just thought you'd like to know.

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I could have loved you,

But you're too hurt to realize

That you'd always be my first choice

To talk to or cuddle up with,

To let you completely inside.

My heart divides into frameless cries,

If I could only make you realize,

That you'd be my favorite guy

If you would only open your eyes.

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You're gorgeous. I hope you have a really nice day 🤍

Thanks!

[obliviousempath]

What's wrong with your face?

Nothing. What's wrong with your personality?

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Since excommunicating from my remaining nuclear family, I feel that I've been in a better place mental health wise. Weekends are no longer the dreaded ordeal they used to be, where I sit here alone feeling forgotten about and abandoned. I no longer care, so I am no longer allowing for feelings of abandonment or invalidation. I'm just doing my own thing now and I feel like that's how it has to be. My life is in my own hands. I'm not under anyone's judgment besides my own. It's an obvious, should have known it all the time, eye 👁️ opening realization. Better late than never.

I never really felt like I could bring children into the world. There were periods of time with each of my husbands when we entertained the idea of becoming pregnant, but luckily that never happened. (It would have made too much sense to get pregnant when I was married, but that's a different story.) I never carried a pregnancy to term because I never felt it was safe bringing a child into this world. I'm sure that's common among people who grew up with trauma. Our families didn't nurture and protect us and in many cases, may have even been our abusers. The lack of privacy, lack of advocacy, and invalidation I endured have fucked with my psyche immeasurably. I'm 42 years old and still coming to terms with my trauma. Part of my healing is protecting myself from triggers or what I like to call mini doses of trauma, which to me can be something as simple as my "non abusive" brother invalidating my feelings and experiences. (I'm recalling him asking me to explain to him why I couldn't wait two hours for his wife to pick me up from the hospital after I JUST WOKE UP FROM SURGERY!) I'm not tolerating that crap anymore. I feel stronger than I used to be. I'm done being the crazy kid sister. I'm done being the black sheep in a family because of abuses that were done to me! It makes no fucking sense. No matter. From now on, I get to choose my own "family" and rely on myself. I have friends who help me with various things, and for that, I am grateful, but I know not to take anything for granted at the same time. At the end of the day, no matter which way I face, I'll end up facing myself. It all comes down to me. One, insignificant, speck - me.

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