04-23-06 @ 9:13 am EDT

I'm lonely and empty lately. -_- I don't write much in here anymore because there are literally only two things left to me anymore: 1. all the crap of real life, which never goes right, so why keep writing about it; and 2. my writing, which hardly anyone reads anymore (a month or so now with zero comments for my latest adult story; and absolutely NO ONE on WC bothers reading EFMI or the others anymore...so much for it being SUCH a fantastic story)...so I don't really have anything to say. Even I'm tired of all that is me.

I hate posting this because I don't feel like ABSOLUTE shit at the moment...but EVERY time I don't feel like total shit, something comes along to ensure that I do again. So as soon as I post this, something bad will happen. -_-

An update...such as it is...my lawyer kept asking for medical and psychiatric records from the past six months, which I do not HAVE, seeing as I haven't had any MONEY to see a doctor or therapist in about a DECADE. I wrote him a letter stating this. And he didn't read it. That's a great sign already. -_- Even somebody who doesn't get paid unless I WIN doesn't care. Ma had to call his secretary to straighten it out. He then said I had to schedule an appointment at the mental health clinic, because without records, I have no case. Already none of this is working out at all the way anyone said it would.

So that was when I made the mistake of going to the Avoidant Yahoo! Group to plead for help...I've been burned doing this before, so I was clear this time. I said I needed ACTUAL HELP, and NOT just to be told to "figure it out on your own." Apparently that's just too much to hope for, though. Two people e-mailed me to promise help. The first lasted two mails and VANISHED. Thanks for nothing. The second lasted three mails, then basically told me off with "Well, grow up and get a job." This woman had promised me help GETTING DISABILITY, so why the hell she told me off with "Get a job" is beyond me. I cried for days. I peeked back in on the Group and apparently she was much this way to other members and had even posted to say she was tired of all the whining and negativity, and was quitting the Group, bye. While on the one hand she had a point about negativity, on the other--WHY THE HELL did she get my hopes up promising me HELP if she felt all I had to do was grow up and get a job?? Thanks for NOTHING! Funny enough, she claimed to be so much better and recovered, yet saw the need to post publicly about it, telling the whole Group off, and stuck around just long enough for ONE member to kind of agree with her so she could sigh, "Finally, someone who agrees with me" before bailing out. For being so much better she sure had to drum up a lot of personal affirmations in the end. I wish I knew on sight how to avoid such people in the future. But they all come across as so friendly and "willing to help." Thus all I can do is just not ask anymore. Nobody else ever seems to have been turned down more than once anyway. I have no idea what I'm going to do when they turn me down again. -_-

So anyway...we had to schedule an appointment. Ma tried to do it but they wouldn't talk to her as I'm an adult, so I had to do it on my own. -_- I cried throughout the call...I actually had to wait for them to call me back and it took 45 minutes! I felt they wouldn't even bother! I'm glad I never called their stupid emergency line (almost did twice, including right after that bitch told me off) if that's what it's like. The guy kept pressing at me to "stay safe" and go to an emergency room if I came to the point of trying to kill myself...why bother? I can't go to an emergency room (walk for like an hour??) or call a hotline! If I could, I would HAVE no problem. So I just hung up and cried the rest of the day.

The appointment was on Thursday...I was crying before we even got there. The place is so small. No other patients were there, but I had to fill out all these stupid things and I couldn't even figure out some of them. Medical history?? I HAVE none! I could have a tumor for all I know. Frankly I don't WANT to know my condition. Just more stuff that, if something's wrong, we can't take care of. If I'm sick and I die, then fine, at least it's over then.

I had to rate on a scale of 0-4 how well off I was with certain things...I'm not hearing voices or wanting to hurt other people, no, but as soon as it got to how lonely I am and how anxious I am and how depressed I am, everything went up to 4 on the difficulty scale...Ma was watching me fill it out and I hated her seeing how I rated it when it asked if I had thoughts of suicide. -_- It's not having mental problems that's embarrassing. I've never had a problem with that; I can even make fun of it sometimes. It's having them for no reason that is humiliating. Why am I like this?? I HATE that I feel this way when EVERYONE in my family is so normal. These things are supposed to be genetic. So how come I'm the only one in this family to be this way? Why did chance fall on MY head like that...? -_-

That itself seemed to take over a half hour, then I went in with the woman therapist...she's not a psychiatrist since Cheboygan has none of those, I don't know what she is. She was nice, but again, I have no clue what she looked like, and the LAST examiner was nice as well before stating that I'm merely SOMETIMES ANXIOUS. People start out friendly all the time before it turns out that they don't give a rat's ass ("Grow up and get a job")...so I'm getting sick of the whole thing. I'm just sick of being told to keep at it even while I just keep getting shuttled along a neverending line to yet another person who won't care. I'm sick of believing in people, then being left on my own, no better off than before. This just felt like yet ANOTHER passing of the buck. How is one expected to feel?

She asked me questions...at least they weren't f**king stupid-ass shit like TELL ME A SIMILARITY AND A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A DOG AND A LION!...or SUBTRACT SEVEN FROM 100!...like that other person asked me. What a f**king JOKE SSA's disability examination is. The appointment was supposed to be about two hours but I think a good amount of that was spent just filling out those dumb forms. I can say though that in maybe the 45-60 minutes I talked to her, she brought up EVERY problem I'm certain I have...ADD...OCD...depression caused by anxiety...and she finally, out of EVERY SINGLE PERSON who has ever counseled me, said SOCIAL ANXIETY. Wow, it only took TWENTY-NINE YEARS! It's about time SOMEBODY F**KING NOTICED.

Not that it will help. I noticed she pushed the medication angle a lot... -_- ...and everyone knows meds don't cure SA! They help you feel less anxious--but they don't undo DECADES of negative conditioning telling you how WORTHLESS you are. I believe this is foremost a chemical imbalance issue, but haywire chemicals convince you to tell yourself your entire life that you are useless and stupid...and popping a few pills can' fix that. I know because I took meds before--what good did they do without appropriate therapy?--NONE.

I just knew they would seek the quick way out, which never works...I'm not worth the trouble. -_- Even they realize it.

She asked several times whether anything had happened in my childhood to make me this way...any abuse or trauma?...but I had nothing. I can't even blame environment for how I am. It sounds sick but I often wish I had been abused or traumatized, because then at least I would have a reason, a why. But I have nothing. I've just always been messed up, nothing caused it, and no one else in the family is this way. I hate not having an explanation for things, especially something as painful as this. It feels like somebody just threw a dart at a board, or pulled a name from a hat, and it happened to be mine. It feels like the world's biggest joke and I can't even laugh. -_-

She asked me what I wanted to get out of therapy...and the truth is...I didn't even plan to get anything out of it. Honestly, I didn't WANT therapy. I just went through with this for the disability case! I'm not MALINGERING, but I didn't think this would be a weekly ongoing thing! -_- She kept asking what goals I wished to reach, what I would like to do if I were better, and...I just had nothing to say. By now I no longer even HOPE to be better, because I was never "normal" to begin with! And I honestly just feel that nothing can help me anymore. By now, I'm afraid of getting better.

It's not that I like being miserable! But the thought of being "normal" is so foreign to me (leaving home? getting a job? getting married?) that it's terrifying. I will never be that person! No matter how hard I work. (And she said I'll have to work hard. -_- ) I've never BEEN "better" so how can I GET "better"??

"Getting better" jeopardizes the reason I had this appointment in the first place! If I'm "better" then I can't help pay bills, because I'll still have no way to earn money! And I'm terrified of "getting better" by now because EVERY TIME I start to feel better--yet MORE lousy shit happens. EVERY time! If I get better--our bills will get worse--appliances will break--and what if my parents get sick or die? I know it sounds crazy, but it would probably happen. I literally feel that I'm meant to STAY this way or else truly bad things will happen. They always have before! So you can see why "getting better" scares me so much. It would ruin everything. -_-

She gave me this anxiety workbook...what a joke it is...it suggests rationalizing with yourself when you're panicking--like saying, "Nothing bad will happen, I can do this"! What sort of joke is that?? The very power of anxiety is that you can rationalize till you're blue in the face--THE FEAR IS STILL THERE! I know I won't die if I climb a ladder--does that help me when I'm clinging to the bottom of it and crying?? Besides--what if the thing you're afraid of going wrong HAS gone wrong every time you've tried it? I'm terrified of interacting with people lest they act like jerks or I be made to look stupid. Considering how all my interactions with people have ended up--is my reaction really so irrational??

Like being able to ask for help...she, too, said I could call her or the emergency number if I have to, but I never will, not ever. I tried calling my old psychologist once and she NEVER got back to me! Nothing good ever came of all the other times I asked for help. There's no way in hell I'll start now! It's not laziness, it's common sense. You don't keep doing the very thing that keeps blowing up in your face--so trying to rationalize with my fear is what is irrational, seeing as how my fears are always FOUNDED!

She gave me a "goal sheet" to fill out...I can't fill it out...I simply have no goals anymore. -_- None but helping pay the bills, which isn't going to happen...and, in lieu of that, just ceasing to exist, so I don't burden anyone anymore. Those are my only goals...and I can't imagine the therapist liking them. She told me to let my imagination run wild, but I have no imagination for myself anymore. I can only imagine what stands a chance of happening...so I have no goals left. -_-

My next appointment is on the first -_- and I can't even fill out a few lines. I don't want to be in therapy. It won't help me. All I wanted was to help my parents, or just not exist, and neither of those is happening... -_-

We didn't have to pay for the first session, but that could always change, and I still have to apply for Medicaid, which scares me because I've never had a physical and I don't want anyone to touch me or see me naked!! NO ONE has seen me naked, except for my parents when I was little. I can't even bear the thought now. RATIONALIZING with myself that they see people naked all the time, I'm no different, ISN'T helping me. :*(

-_- ...

One more thing happened which has me twisting in knots. When I came out of the therapist's office and we were leaving, Ma said, "Guess who I saw?" Turns out that right as I was heading into the office, Dianne B., an old high school/college friend of mine, showed up and saw me going in. She apparently recognized my mother and the two of them started talking. Ma told her that I talk about her all the time (not really, but I guess I do bring her up now and then...she pops up in my dreams once in a while, but I never knew Ma was paying attention), and Dianne replied with, "Well, I think about her a lot!" She had wanted to call me but didn't know if I still lived in Cheboygan or what. She gave Ma her cell phone number and said I could call her. The number doesn't look local, but Ma said that she lives in town, and from the sound of it she thinks about me as much as I think about her. That's all I know of the conversation though, I don't even know if Ma gave her OUR number or not. I wish she had, because I'm never going to be able to call her!!

I figured she just forgot about me like everyone else does. I just assume that, if somebody doesn't try, they either don't know how or don't care to. I know it's silly to assume that everybody I've lost touch with KNOWS I still live at home, but Mya and Michelle T. both tried in the past, by contacting my parents (neither of which worked out)...I figured she'd made more of an impression on me than I'd made on her. Even now I find it hard to believe.

Dianne and I were never HUGE HUGE best-best friends...but we had a lot in common and did get along. And I really wished that we could have gotten to know each other better. We met in junior high or high school because we both hung out with the same group of more outgoing people. When we were with these guys, we could be goofy. In high school we did silly things; somewhere I still have a three-way dialogue that we carried on with Michelle, on paper, regarding gum stuck under the desks and jokes about the principal and all this crap we did while we should have been listening in class. ^_^ Dianne and I both liked The X-Files (though I later on lost track of it when they started playing musical chairs with the agents), and that was the source of numerous jokes--Scully had this habit of yelling, "Mulderrr?" and Dianne and I made constant fun of that. I had to pass by one of her classes on my way to art sometimes and I would hold up a sign that said "MulDER?" to make her laugh. ^_^ I believe we made jokes about Pez because that was in a play I wrote about a mental institution. And when we both found out that we were seeing the same psychologist (!) we had fun with that too. My psychologist, on finding out about this, encouraged us both to call each other...but we never did. -_- I can only assume her own reasons for not calling me. I never called her because I was too shy and didn't want to bother her. I'm guessing, but am not sure, that she had the same reason.

We met again in college and signed up for a class or two together, so that was fun too, because I had no friends left by that time and when we were together I was a bit bolder. We never really did anything other than that though; I never hung out with her or anything. Not because I didn't WANT to, but because I figured she had her own things and I was just too shy. She always seemed to have a babysitting job, so in that way I considered her light years ahead of me--I couldn't even do that much. I don't know though. Why was she at the mental health clinic? Ma said she was probably there for an appointment too. I find myself wondering if she WORKS there. She was shy and quiet like me, but I always figured she was so much better off. I honestly figured that after college she had moved somewhere, started a family, gotten a job, all that stuff that everyone else but me does. That was why I never bothered trying to get back in touch.

I'm twisting in knots over this because, hearing that she actually remembered me and cared enough to give her number to my mom and ask me to call makes me want to do that SO MUCH! She wasn't really into my writing or anything, but we DID get along. I don't know, maybe she would like it? But on the other hand...there's so much working against it. It's been almost a decade now and I bet she has changed completely. I never even knew much about her to begin with! All I know is her mother was kind of conservative, so what if she's a rabid fundamentalist Christian-type now? What if she hated me because of what I believe in--or what if I couldn't stand what SHE believes in? (Yes, I am prejudiced too.) NOBODY from my real life knows of some of the stuff I write--what if she were to find out, would she hate me? Even if she weren't to find out, I can't imagine her caring about any of my other writing...and that's the catch. I want to call her, but I have absolutely NOTHING to hold a conversation about! Mere questions like "How are you doing? What've you been up to?" which are a matter of course for everyone else are TORTURE to me, because...I have no answer for them! Head back to the beginning of this entry. There is NOTHING left to me anymore but my complaints, and my writing. I would hardly call Dianne up to complain to her! So that leaves...my writing? Which she doesn't read and probably wouldn't care about? I can't talk about that. She was brave enough to talk to my mom and give her number, so she's already more outgoing than I am--I bet she DOES have a family and a job and is so much better off. Imagine me calling her and she asks me how I am and what I've been doing...those are the most HUMILIATING questions my former high-school buddies can ask me...they always result in big awkward silences as soon as they realize I STILL LIVE WITH MY PARENTS AND SLEEP IN MY CHILDHOOD BED. It's mortifying. I'm actually GLAD that I haven't run into more former friends than I already have!

Me: "Hi, Dianne...I thought I'd call..."

Dianne: "HI RACH!! How are you doing?"

Me (my automatic response to this question, a lie): "Okay, I guess..."

Dianne: "So what've you been up to? It's been so long!"

Me: "Um...nothing much..."

And then what?? I can't call her up to say, "Yeah, Dianne, my life's been shit the past ten years, I was only in that office to see about my disability appeal, so, how are you?" or "Hi Dianne, all I ever do is write anymore and whine that nobody reads it--would you like to read it?? Huh??" And then sit and awkwardly listen while she talks about how normal HER life now is...a life I would no longer be able to understand or empathize with, because as I already said, normality is just a foreign concept to me.

I wish Ma would have given her OUR number and told HER to call here, at least, because even if I still had nothing to say, at least I wouldn't make an ass of myself calling HER just to say...I have nothing to talk about! Or my e-mail address, best case scenario. Surely she's online somewhere? I looked and couldn't find her. -_- But that doesn't mean she's not there. Via e-mail, I bet I could open up to her a lot more, even to tell her that I'm a loser who does nothing but write. But to call HER...I just can't summon the courage to do it. Not only is it humiliating and terrifying, but it's just a bad idea. I wish Ma would have thought of that.

I haven't seen her in almost ten years despite us both still being in the same city, so I doubt I'd run into her again. That appointment was on a Thursday and my next is on a Monday. I doubt she'd be there again.

I wish I could contact her, just not in the way that's been thrown at me. But maybe it's all for the best and is God's way of telling me it's not meant to happen. It's always so painful when I meet other people I used to know. The looks on their faces, the way they awkwardly smile and force out a "Well, nice to see you again, bye" before hurriedly leaving when they find out what a failure I am. -_-

I have good memories of Dianne. I can't bear to ruin them with all that. But I really do wish we could be friends. -_-

I'm currently trying to learn more about the Iroquois...and writing some product reviews of CDs and books...you can check them out at my Writing.com page, just click "Product Reviews" if you're interested. They're nothing special, I'm just bored. At least they're short.