I'm only mostly insane

Things I think. A place for me to speak the things I can't say.

[unspoken-identity]

Today I realized I don’t know who I am anymore. Actually that’s inaccurate, I’ve known for a long time, but today I was writing a song about it. Sometimes I write down the things I think in my head, the things I’m afraid to say to anyone out loud. Sometimes I’m kind of proud of what I write, which is mostly journal entries and songs, maybe the occasional story. Today I decided that I want to scream those things into the void that is the internet. I wish I could say that I don’t care if anyone reads this, but if I didn’t care then why would I be posting? Honestly if my ramblings reach just one person, I’ll be satisfied. Here’s to hoping that I find an identity somewhere in this mess.

Disclaimer: My thoughts and writings can get very dark. I may put content warnings on individual posts if necessary. But mostly I don’t want anyone reading this to worry for me. I promise I am not in any danger, even when my mind strays to extremely dark places.

[unspoken-identity]

The last few weeks have been different. I’ve always struggled to go to bed at a reasonable time; my habit of going to sleep and waking up late has been a source of guilt for as long as I can remember. But lately I’ve established a routine and I wake up before 9 every day now, which sounds pathetic but it’s a big accomplishment for me. Also, for the past 4 weeks or so I’ve been able to run pretty much every day, which I’ve enjoyed a lot. I ran cross country and track in high school, but it’s a lot harder to establish a running routine outside of a program. I’m proud of the routine I’ve been following this month. I’m proud that I’ve stayed consistent, more than I ever have before. This past week I’ve had a small depressive episode, and I’ve slipped on the routine just a little bit. But I’m trying to give myself some grace. I don’t have to be perfect all the time, or even at any time! The important thing is that I am kind to myself and that I keep going, keep trying. I can do this. I can!

[unspoken-identity]

Hey, it’s been a while. I’ve been busy, sort of. A lot has happened since I last posted. I just wanted to say that I’m doing ok, I’m still here. This blog is full of hard and painful feelings but more and more lately, I’ve been feeling well. There is definitely still pain and down days, but I’ve also seen more joy and light. It’s there, even if it’s hard to see sometimes. Also I haven’t talked about my religion much on this blog, but I had a big reminder this week that God loves me. I had forgotten that, but he really does. And he loves you too, yes you. It’s ok if you don’t believe it, I’ve been there. Just keep hanging in there, it gets better.

[unspoken-identity]

I haven’t watched Inside by Bo Burnham and I most likely never will, but I kept seeing people writing their own verses for That Funny Feeling. It intrigued me so I listened to the original song and wow it hit hard. I kind of feel like an imposter but I was inspired to write my own verse, so here it is. If anyone is interested maybe I’ll record myself singing it and post it.

Everybody asking what your plans are for the fall Living in a dirty room, it’s hard to care at all Exhausting mornings, carpet beetles, retainer plaque Replaying chances that you’re never getting back Zoning out on YouTube for hours at a time Feeling guilt for killing nature just by living out your life Alexithymic, you’ve never not been in a rut Hungry for something but can never figure what

There it is again, that funny feeling, that funny feeling There it is again, that funny feeling, that funny feeling

[unspoken-identity]

I’m struggling. It feels like I’m trying to swim for the surface but every day I sink deeper. Further away from light and air. I’m just so bored. Every day I sit around and do nothing, care about nothing. It hurts too much to care, so my mind just stopped. Every day I want to do something, but nothing sounds good. It all seems like a waste of time, and I don’t know if anything can distract me from this soul-sucking boredom. I’m bored of existing. I already feel guilty for writing this because I’m afraid my negativity will bring down people’s moods. But I need to get it out, so I guess that’s the price I’ll pay.

[unspoken-identity]

GUILT (3/?)

I’ve had a few different people that I treated badly based on my original impressions of them, whether those perceptions were founded or not. One was a boy I met my freshman year of high school. We sat next to each other in a seating chart, and I found him immature and annoying. It’s true that he said some mean things, but I was so pretentious. I thought I was better than him and treated him with derision and annoyance. While I vividly remember multiple extremely immature and downright mean things he did, my attitude and treatment of him was still not justified. As time went on he mellowed out and matured somewhat, but I held onto my original perception of him and continued to treat him badly. For example, on Valentine’s day I was handing out candy to my friends and, even though he didn’t ask, I told him he couldn’t have one. He moved away the summer after sophomore year and it was only after that that I realized how terrible I had been. I should have been kinder and recognized both his struggles and his growth as a person.

[unspoken-identity]

GUILT (2/?)

My senior year, none of my friends really wanted to go to the homecoming dance, but they still wanted to do something. Somehow we decided to get Chipotle and watch a movie, and we were all excited. The issues started when we were trying to figure out who to invite. We were scared of leaving people out, and more and more people kept being added to the list until it was a huge party that we were planning. Soon, we were realizing that the amount of people we were inviting was getting out of hand. It was totally coincidental, but right when someone said we needed to invite a few of our friends who were sisters (the Bs) was when we started seriously talking about going back to the original small group. Someone ended up telling the B’s about it and, through a misunderstanding, they assumed that my sister and I specifically didn’t want to invite them. They thought that we were purposefully excluding them. Their mom texted our mom about how angry and hurt they were, and then immediately cut off communication. She wouldn’t allow us to call them and she rejected our request to come over to their house. For days, we agonized over what they were thinking and what they believed, neither of which we could do anything about. Luckily we saw them a few days later, and we explained what had actually happened and apologized. I think that they forgave us, but I still feel guilty for the pain we caused them. I should have been more careful and thoughtful of everyone involved in the first place.

[unspoken-identity]

GUILT (1/?)

I had the idea to write out a few of my experiences of things I feel guilty about. I’m hoping this will help me to let go of some of that guilt. So this is part one out of who knows how many.

Cross country was a really important part of my life in high school. My senior year, my friend and I were kind of team leaders for the cross country team. I’m not sure why but our coach asked us to design the team shirt for the season. We got together at my friend’s house and went over some design ideas, but we couldn’t decide on anything. I remembered a joke that my sister had made about a hypothetical cereal called “Cross Crunchies,” and I thought that was a funny idea so I mentioned it, and we ended up landing on it. We came up with this idea of a “Cross Crunchies” cereal box on the shirt with a few other details. We brought the idea to the coach and the rest of the seniors, and the boys really didn’t like it- they said it was too complicated and a bad idea. In the back of my mind I kind of knew they were probably right, but because the idea was originally mine and because we had decided on it, it felt like a matter of pride to see it through. Especially because the boys were so adamantly against it. We ended up convincing them to accept it, and we handed off the somewhat vague design to the coach. He took the final design into his own hands, and we didn’t get to see it until the shirts were made. When I first saw the shirt, my heart fell; it turned out so ugly. It was way too complicated, the decal was so big, the colors clashed. I’m not sure if I immediately felt guilty, but I feel it now; I couldn’t let go of my idea because of my pride, and the product came out ugly and disappointing. Also, at least for me, cross country shirts were a part of the experience of each season, and I feel bad for ruining that part of the experience for everyone, especially the other seniors.

[unspoken-identity]

Dear M,

This may come as a surprise or it may not, I really have no idea how obvious I’ve been. I've thought about telling you so many times, but I was too afraid. Basically, I like you. A lot. I remember just when it started, the summer before my sophomore year. We were on a run and your sister said something about how you would always sing Disney songs in French, and I thought that was cute. From then on I developed a massive crush on you. For the last 3 years, my crush has waxed and waned based on how often I was around you, but it's always been there. You're cute, smart, funny, and so much fun to be around. I feel happier just seeing your smile.   The thing is, though, I knew I didn't want to be in a relationship until after high school. Even then I don't know if I would have said anything because being friends with you has been so much fun. I love hanging out with you and your sisters, and I was afraid that my crush would ruin that. I didn't want to put pressure on you or make you feel bad in any way. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've liked you for a while, but please never let that change the way you think about our friendship. I don't think that anything could have been better than the time we've spent together these last few years. Whatever happens, I don't want things to be weird between us. I really hope we can continue to be friends, because so far it's been great.

[unspoken-identity]

My brain is very logical, very analytical. It likes to see things in terms of cause and effect. Because of that, I tend to try to look for causes for my thoughts and feelings. The problem is that my brain makes absolutely no sense. For example, I have struggled with my body image since middle school. I’ve thought and thought about what could have caused that issue in me, but there’s nothing. No one has ever commented negatively on my body. I don’t think I had a role model who was overly concerned with their looks. I honestly don’t care that much about being attractive to men. But for some reason I still dislike my body. Not to mention the senselessness of my depressive thoughts; I have no trauma in my past, no triggering event that could have caused my thoughts to become so painful. I don’t understand myself, and that is incredibly frustrating. It makes me feel like there must just be something intrinsically wrong with me, like I’m just weaker-willed than everyone else. Logically I know that’s not true but it’s hard not to feel that way.

[unspoken-identity]

Today we dropped off my sister at college in another state, and I’m not sure if she’ll ever come live at home again. More than anything it just reminded me that time always moves on. Even if I’m not ready, it doesn’t stop, not ever, not ever.

[unspoken-identity]

CW: body dysmorphic thoughts

Sometimes I really, really hate my body. Particularly my legs. They just look so thick and stubby, I wish I could cut them down to a smaller size, lengthen them out. I think about them more often than I care to admit, especially when I’m in public. Lately I’ve been trying to wear loose pants and skirts to hide them. I also keep thinking about how I need to get back into running to slim down. Rationally I know that I’m thinner than average. My body pretty much hasn’t changed since seventh grade. But I still feel sick every time I look at my legs. When I’m in public, I look at other girls’ thighs, comparing myself to them. It’s exhausting and degrading, but I can’t seem to stop. It makes me wonder if I have some mild body dysmorphia. I’ve also always wished I were taller, which is incredibly frustrating because there’s nothing I can do to change that. I wish my fingers were longer. I wish my neck and arms and face were thinner. Sometimes I’m ok with the way I look. But when these thoughts consume me, I just can’t stand myself.

[unspoken-identity]

Within the next few days, I basically have to decide the course of my life for the next year. 

I could decide to go back to college in the fall, in which case I would have to register for classes and most likely decide on a major. I have literally no idea what I want to major in at this point. Additionally, I’m not sure I have enough funds to pay for another year of college.

I could decide to defer college for this semester. If I did, I would have two options: go on a mission for my church, or take a gap semester to just work. Going on a mission would be a big commitment that I don’t know if I’m ready for, but it’s something I’ve thought a lot about doing. I almost can’t consider the idea of taking a gap semester; I’ve spent my whole life in school, and I’m not sure I know who I am without it.

This decision would be hard enough, but it has brought to light a deeper problem that (how typical of me) I’ve been trying to avoid: I have no idea what I want. I have no idea what I need. I don’t know which option would be best for me, or even which one I actually desire. And, as I’ve recently learned, I am terrified of making the wrong choice. Both because of the negative consequences, and because I just hate being wrong. I’m just stressed and I feel like I’ve been thinking in circles that just lead me nowhere, no closer to a real decision.

[unspoken-identity]

I have a friend who is moving to another country for a couple of years, and today I had to say goodbye to him. It was sad, because I won’t see him for a while, but it was really nice to talk to him for a bit, just the two of us. We reminisced about when we were kids (we met I think when we were seven) and talked about how crazy it is that we’re grown up and out of high school. We hugged twice, and I realized that I don’t hug people enough. My only regret is that I wish I had told him how great of a friend he is. In high school I was disappointed by so many guys who I thought were cool or even my friend, and I learned the hard way that they weren't the people I had thought they were. But this friend has only ever been kind and reliable. I wish I’d told him that. Maybe I’ll text him tomorrow.

[unspoken-identity]

After my last post I realized that I haven’t talked very much about my perfectionism yet, which is kind of surprising because it’s a very big part of me. I’ll probably write a longer post about it sometime soon, but lately I’ve been thinking about how my perfectionism is tied to guilt. Especially lately, it seems like there’s not much I can do without feeling guilty. I constantly feel guilty about my environmental impact, which bleeds into a lot of everyday things like driving, showering, using plastic, and so many others. I feel guilty about spending my time on things that aren’t “productive.” I feel guilty about not being a good enough friend. I could come up with a million more examples of things that cause me guilt. Some of that guilt comes from the worry of how I’m affecting others and the world around me, but I think most of it stems from feeling like I’m not doing things well enough. I’m not meeting my standards, I’m not doing the best I could be doing. And if I’m not doing my best, there must be something wrong with me. I must be too lazy, or undisciplined, or weak, or something. I used to truly believe that. I know now that it’s not true, but it’s hard to undo years of thinking a certain way. I’m working at it.

[unspoken-identity]

Today I’ve started about 5 different posts and not gotten more than a sentence in before I gave up and deleted them. My mind seems both too full and too empty to focus on something long enough to write about it. Also, I’m nothing if not perfectionistic, and that always gets in the way of me creating. One of the original goals of this blog was to be able to write my feelings without worrying about how good my writing was or what anyone thought of it. I’m trying to fight my mind for that ability. It’s an ongoing battle.

[unspoken-identity]

I’ve always loved reading but sometimes I forget how great it is. The last couple days I’ve gotten back into it and it’s so refreshing. I forgot the serenity of being completely engulfed in a story. I forgot how my sense of self dissolves, and I’m no longer reading words on a page but experiencing another life. Today threatened to overwhelm me with worries about future plans and decisions, but I staved off those worries by burying myself in a book. Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but I’m not the healthiest person. I’m excited to read a lot this summer, and maybe I’ll figure something out on the way.