I’ve been kind of linking this blog to everyone I meet now, in real life I mean. And I kind of realised it’s one of those things that maybe needs to be read before people decide if they want to be my friend or not, as painfully childish and somewhat stupid as that sounds. But this blog is a pretty big warning label, so fuck it.
I will never hold myself back when it comes to me and my unit of a brain in this space.
I have stuff to do this week, not only that but I did stuff this week. The last 2 days have been spent out getting my responsible service of alcohol certificate and my food handling certificate.
Now I am qualified enough to be a bottom bitch in the hospitality industry, joy.
I just want part time work for now so I’m happy I have these, it’s not like this will ever be my career. And I got out of the house and socialising, so I guess it was a good thing for me to do for that reason. Then I’ve got mum and dad staying the night to help with a driving lesson on Thursday so I’ve got plenty on.
These are all good things.
So why do I feel so sad?
For anybody who’s watched Rick and Morty, you nerds would’ve gotten the reference in the title. But for those who don’t watch the show, it’s a catchphrase that Rick says throughout season 1. The meaning of the term though is explained by Birdman;
But the thing is, no one can help me. Because I don’t even know what this is or quite how I’m feeling. This is an attempt at trying to explain something I don’t even know. It’s like every time I get sad or anxious about something it feels different. Like there’s somewhat different levels of severity.
This is just a general sadness, over the fact that I feel so fucking alien in groups or with people now.
I mean, the group I was with was small and just all different. So weird, first day there was 6 of us and today it was down to 4 and well, it was interesting for me. Most of us all had opinions on stuff, so a lot of the time it was constant debate when we were on breaks or lunch, or in the case of this afternoon, through a boring coffee making video that lasted 25 minutes. I guess when you’re in a small group it’s kind of easier to debate without it turning hostile if you have conflicting opinions. I mean, the thing I observed though is that we could all still agree on minor points of the opposite argument.
Look, I understand that this is what intelligent adult conversation is, and I just described it like I was a fucking mongoloid trying to explain debating etiquette to 5 year olds, but you don’t understand the people I’ve lived with!
You also don’t understand how highly sensitive and downright close-minded I can be…
Because I can only tell you that it was a healthy debate, after the fact, after I had to ask about it. Because to me, it still sounded so hostile, so attack like, on me especially with certain topics. But it wasn’t, nobody held any malice, no ones opinions changed. Yet my emotions went fucking nuts and all I could do was just shut up and hold it in. The caged monster inside of me was trying its best to escape.
And I’m not even just talking about the ridiculously short fuse connected to the rage, I mean my whole opinion on these people shifted almost every conversation, down to a deep hatred at moments.
This is my theory, this extreme over-sensitivity was controlled a lot by the lamotrogine, and I regret going off it, for a lot of reasons. But I don’t know whether I could go through the process of getting back on it, not just that, I don’t think I can afford it right now. Because it was a medication that I couldn’t get on medicare, so I had to pay the full price for it. I just don’t think I could do it right now. I don’t know whether I could go through the extra vivid nightmares or the super itchy drug rash it caused.
So I guess the key here is to just not react. So I didn’t. But that didn’t stop the absolute overflow of emotions I felt in trying not to react. It’s exhausting and unpleasant. It’s unpleasant to debate face to face, in real life for me. Because it’s like there are these aggressive tones to peoples voices, like a dog tone that a human can’t hear, but a Kim tone, because it feels like I’m the only one hearing the hostility.
Just because I can realise it doesn’t mean it stops me from reacting at the time. Doesn’t stop it from hurting any less. All it leaves me with is a feeling of being so fucking different. Of not quite connecting, of not being able to relate at all. I mean, none of them really liked the same stuff I did, they were just from different worlds to me, like, boring adult worlds where Doctor Who is lame and adult cartoons like South Park (and Rick and Morty!) is too childish.
I felt like a child again being picked on, but it wasn’t that, it was just we don’t like the same things and these people were a lot more judgemental about it. But they weren’t putting ME down for liking it, I just wasn’t comprehending that at the time. Because I guess that everything I love I hold close to me, like it’s a part of who I am. So to hear people ridiculing it, even if it’s just a tv show or whole fucking genre of shows in my case, it feels like a personal attack on me. Which I understand is silly when it’s not like it’s my own creation or property anyway, but that’s the thing with fandoms.
And you might think that this is all positive that I can at least observe and see it, but that is the exact fucking reason why I am sad.
Because I can see it all in my head, but I’m losing touch with being social. I feel like I can’t apply what I know in the real world, because I can see now I really still don’t have any control over my emotion.
Wubba lubba dub dub…