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first few mins of this show have me feeling. so fucking unwell. like. LIKE

#first the shirtless bloody moaning in pain apocalypse now esque introduction scene #then this.#unspeakable things happening in my brain.#ji chang wook #the k2 #kdrama #people #txt.me

ALRIGHT ENOUGH ALREADY

#me: i think I'll do an audio book recording of the eady peasy method.#wait- my mic is kinda trash.#guess i should buy a new- yikes good mics are expensive.#then this.

So my finger nails just fell off.

#First my hands start catching on fire.#Then this.#It just gets better and better.#This isn't exactly pissing me off it's just.#Disgusting.

It was a tough evening...

I don't usually text post, much less about myself, but I feel like people here will understand. Social things are really hard for me. I'm not good at it. It's awkward and uncomfortable and I'd just rather not. I want to be a contributing member of my community. I try. I consider joining in volunteer clean ups and fundraising endeavors. I want to know the people I live with, but it fills me with so much dread. I just can't make myself go.

Tonight, with all of my might I confidently walked into the crowded basement of a local church, "Indian tacos $7" Proceeds go to the local animal rescue so it's a great cause! There's no way I would stay and eat there, but I'm just getting the dinners to-go. I've got this. I can do this. "6 please," I politely say to the man taking the money. I hand him my money, the whole time I'm praying he doesn't think all 6 are for me. I can't resist the urge to nervously chuckle, "It's a lot I know." WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! He tells me to tell them at the kitchen pass through my order. He just takes the money. Jesus, I'm already screwing this up. As I wait behind the lady In front of me (she works at my bank) my food anxiety is ratcheted up to 10. The small church basement is loud and overly full. There's too many volunteers buzzing around trying to keep up with demand. There's too many children running around unattended. There's too many other volunteers standing around doing nothing but staring from the kitchen. A guy I went to high school with is a few feet away in the kitchen. He smiles and waves. I smile, wave, and look away instantly. Why did I do that?! I should have asked how he was doing. Wait! What if he wasn't waving at me at all. We've probably spoken three times ever (he was a jock), why would he wave at me? There was probably someone behind me and I just made a huge fool of myself. I wait some more. Then my friend's mom spots me from behind the fryer in the kitchen. She's saying something I can't hear because of all the noise. I step the three feet away to the kitchen door and poke my head in. Questions about whether I'm seeing her daughter tonight. Friend's husband is out of town and she's 9 months pregnant. "No," I answer, "but we've been talking all day. She asked if she could call me if anything happens while he's gone. I said of course!" Her mom laughs as I head back to my spot in line. Did I just imply that her daughter didn't want to call her, her mother, if she went into labor?!? Why did I say that? Yes, that's the case, but I still shouldn't have said it!!! Bank lady in front of me is still waiting (there was a fry bread shortage evidently) and the lady behind me moved up into my spot in line. "Oh were you here?" "Yes," I smile as she takes a step back. Then a chorus of 'is this the line' and 'have you ordered' erupts from the two or three people behind me. The line behind me continues to grow. There's no such thing as personal space down here. Bank lady gets her order and heads to the desert table. At the window is High School Jock's mom, Friend's pastor, and Friend's pastor's wife. All of whom I've met on at least three occasions. I smile, say hello, and tell them my order. I make it easy. Everything on it, nothing special. Please just throw it in the container and let me leave. Pastor's Wife stares, "You want 6?" Yes. Pastor looks at me like I just told him Jesus was a fraud, "well it's gonna be a minute." Ok. Jock's mom (I sold her my dryer on Craigs List at the beginning of the year), "How many?" 6. "6?" Yes. Line Cutter behind me pops over my shoulder, "Did you say 4?" 6. "6? I should have stayed in front of you!" She chuckled to cue she was teasing, but she wasn't of THAT I am sure. Pastor's wife looks at me as she's writing my order down, "You want 6?" Yes. "What do you want on it?" Everything is fine. She then looks me straight in the face and says, "And what's your name?" I waited a beat before I clearly and curtly replied, "Amanda." As she's writing she says, "I knew that..." Yes, she did, because we've met on three different occasions and in fact, WE HAD DINNER TOGETHER AT FRIEND'S HOUSE TWO NIGHTS AGO! Honestly I've reached my limit. I want to just get my money back and leave, but what would Friend think? She wouldn't be mad, but I don't want to reflect poorly on her with her church family despite their rudeness. I can't do this. I look back at the line that stretches to the basement stairs. Four people back is one of my dearest friends who lives out of state. Out of State Friend and I are having a rough patch. I was hurt by something she did and I'm still processing that, so I didn't plan on seeing her when she was in this week. I have to now, because it's awkward if I don't. Plus I love her and she right there and I want to hug her. So sneak up behind her and hug her. She's startled, we laugh, hug, make some small talk about the crowd and her weekend plans. I head back to the front of the line and Line Cutter is getting her dinner and leaving. And by her dinner I mean my 4th dinner. I walk back up and Jock's mom chuckles, "I still need 3 more here." The man behind me asks about another exit. "The other doors are locked," answers Jock's Mom. Now all I can think about is a fire and the lack of exits in this very crowded basement. The last three dinners come quickly as the fry bread reserve builds back up. I take my two sacks and am meant to stop and get drinks and desert too. I quickly by pass them, hug Out of State Friend, and squeeze my way through the blocked stairs. I can finally breath as I get into the car where my mom is waiting. I resort to anger rather than tears as I recount the experience. And all I want to say to her is, this is why I don't go places. I'm still rattled and overwhelmed 5 hours later.

It's all just too much sometimes.

TLDR;

I suck at peopling.

#And I had a really good day today #I flirted #With a guy I really like.#Then this.#Anxiety #HSP #any tips on dealing?