I keep finding these little itchy bumps on my body, and I still don't know what to make of them. They go away in a couple of days, then I find one or two more.
The apparent respite in my fatigue was short-lived. The weird thing is that I seem to be able to hold the fatigue at bay with exercise—workouts or chores—yet I begin to feel tired shortly after I stop.
I want to know what the hell is going on, and I have to wait two and a half weeks for my next rheumatology appointment.
Oh shit! Just remembered that I was supposed to go for a walk today. Well hell. I'm burning too many calories anyways, so missing one day won't really hurt me.
Today is only day 2 and I'm already ambivalent about this diet; it seems almost too much to endure what with the fatigue and all. I said the same damned thing the last time I tried to diet. Although I've tried this and found it didn't help, I still have the sense that eating more food would make me feel less tired.
And another thing...I don't really want to be thinner. I want it but it's not super important. I'm on this diet because I hate abandoning my goals. I don't like to give up. I don't know why sticking to a goal for its own sake seems so important. Kinda crazy, isn't it?
I put in a lot of work proposals today and it took so much effort. Can't work without energy and can't move away without money. I think that there is a chance that I'd miraculously get well if I moved away. Maybe I don't feel depressed because all the depression is in my body. If that's even possible.
I have continued to work by myself on psychosocial problems. Day before yesterday, I made a thread and once again had to abandon it due to unsupportable anger and frustration over one or two of the responses. This is a very obvious pattern and it's past time I examine it. Well, the result of my examination is quite ugly.
I decided this evening that there are two main phenomena at play in these situations: lack of social connection and frustrated entitlement.
The latter seems the less serious issue. No matter how nasty I see people get, no matter how foreign they seem, no matter how boring they are, I cling to the expectation of social interaction that is (as I've written in my little journal sitting here) smooth, respectful, focused, and enriching. So when the hiccups, the misunderstandings, the disagreements, the seemingly stupid questions and obvious observations, the assumptions, the derailments inevitably happen, I cannot endure these things.
I could probably learn to take these things. I could, for example, go back and force myself to read through that thread, telling myself that it's ok to be angry and frustrated but that these bumps aren't the end of the world.
Far more hopeless is my lifelong lack of social connection. I don't know whether I am missing something that other people have that attaches them to others or I'm just in the clutches of a lifelong habit. But I think that every time one of these unpleasant things happens, justified or not I see another nail in the coffin that holds my social life. I see another piece of evidence that I can never convince anyone of anything, can never have any but the most basic of my perspectives understood, can never be taken at face value, can never escape the random little moods and hangups of others (yuck). Can never be on the same page, ever.
But I don't really have adequate evidence of those things since I've begun coping with the emotions by abandoning my own discussions. There are some sixteen other responses that I've not even read because avoidance, withdrawal, giving up, forgetting the whole affair, seems the only way for me to modulate my emotional response. My response is always intense, but that's because, I think, I've little social experience to ground me enough to modulate the intensity.
In my family, there were no discussions. There was no talking through disagreements, no voicing my opinion. It was my dad's way or the highway. My dad lectured, and everyone else kept quiet and listened or risked a blow. So no grounding social experience in my childhood to show me that these disagreements and things were no big deal, no experience handling them properly.
Then I spent most of the rest of my life never really talking to anyone, and disagreeing and explaining even less, so no experience there. Very little experience seeing that the world wouldn't end over a disagreement. Very little experience feeling myself understood. Where those experiences should be, deep within me, supporting my current experiences from my core, there is a void.
The thing that makes this more hopeless than the sense of entitlement is the lack of an immediate solution. I can work on my entitlement right away (I think), but there is nothing I can do to make up for 36 years of barren social life. I can only try to create that life now. But it seems so late. And the only way to make it to those grounding social experiences is to pass the gatekeeper social experiences: the acquaintances, the getting-to-know you phase, the first dates, the uncertain approaches, the mis-steps, the randomness. All the things I hate the most about socializing. It seems so much work. And I'm not even sure that would fix the problem. And my motivation is somewhat lacking because I know from long experience that I can just go back to isolation and survive.
And this is why I'm literally tired of being alive. It must be taken one day at a time. Right now looking too far into the future is the way of hopelessness. I feel like I can't be normal enough to deal with the small, auxiliary social experiences until I get that one deep social experience, but I can't get the latter without putting up with the former. It's a circle with no opening through which I can comfortably insert myself. The only proper entry point is childhood, and that's over for me, so I've no choice but to do it the hard way.