My mom sent me an email this evening (okay like 20 minutes ago) wishing me happy new year and that she said (and I quote)
I guess that title said it all. I am the flakiest friend that if I was a pie, I would literally just crumble into a pile of dust. Pie dust. I guess you could sprinkle me on a more stable pie and then it’d be like, some serious pie on pie action. Or any kind of pastry. Except that I hate pastries. So there’s that. Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah. I’m the definition of a flake, and I don’t mean to be. I really do love my friends. They’re great people. But I have reached a point in my social anxiety where being around more than 1 person at a time (maybe 2, and that’s pushing it) is basically a nightmare for me. Get some alcohol in me and I’m fine. But otherwise I’m just a gross flaky croissant from Safeway or King Soopers (seriously Safeway, your “croissants” are just a curly lump of buttery, over salted dough with burned flakes that get f**king everywhere).
I’ll stop talking about pastries now. Because they’re gross. Especially eclairs which are basically a phallic cream filled ball of especially disgusting dough. Case in point.
I didn’t really realize how much of a flake I’ve been until D texted me and pointed out that I’ve been bailing on my friends a lot and asked me if I’m okay. Answer? Absolutely not.
It’s not that I don’t want to see my friends, I really do. Since D has been back home in Maryland the past couple weeks, I’ve been really lonely. I told myself that I was gonna use this time that he’s away as an excuse to see my friends, but instead, Netflix and my bed and a bottle of wine have been the only friends I want to see (side story: don’t drink a 1.5 liter bottle of wine in one sitting. Or attempt to. I don’t think I need to expand on that story actually. But please, for your own health and sanity, don’t do it).
I know that I should push myself to get out of the house more and socialize more, but I’m kind of just okay with not being okay right now. Yeah, social withdrawal is one of the biggest signs of depression, but by pushing myself out into the great unknown of socializing, that just makes everything worse. I’ve also reached a point where I’ve bailed on everything I was invited to this week to the point where my friends are threatening to kidnap me. I guess that’s what makes them good friends.
If you know someone with this kind of anxiety, don’t make them socialize if they’re literally hiding in bed crying about it and comparing themselves to flaky pie dough. Text them so they don’t have to talk on the phone. Bring them their favorite food and watch Netflix with them so they don’t have to leave the house. Social anxiety isn’t just being awkward around people. It’s a legitimate fear of engaging in social activities. It’s the fear of not having an escape route for when I need to climb back into my anxiety cave.
So, I’m sorry friends that I’ve bailed on every holiday thing that happened this week. This isn’t a good time for me. I love you all. Come kidnap me if you wish.
So yesterday I wrote about all the things I want or try to do when I get catatonically depressed. One of these things was read The Oatmeal. It works. As I was stumbling through the Oatmeal last night, I found this comic. And I realized how okay it is not be okay. That it’s okay to be unhappy. Being unhappy doesn’t mean you’re depressed. It just means that you’re not HAPPY with fireworks coming out of your asshole and giant sparkles and stars for eyes, but you’re not a complete miserable blob either. You’re just middle ground. Just unhappy.
Read this and you’ll see what I mean.
It’s okay to not be happy.
Have a nice day everyone (and yes it’s already almost 1pm and so yes that’s the beginning of my day because I take no shame in waking up late everyday and not being a productive member of society, but I should probably keep job hunting.
- Look up pictures of fluffy dog butts on Pinterest. Corgis have the fluffiest butts, hands down.
- Watch my rats attack each other in their little t-rex way. The winner is the one who manages to stay up on his hind legs and push the other one over. The winner gets to groom the opponents belly.
- Pretend that I’m Adele and horribly belt out songs with my guitar. This isn’t so good for my self esteem. Note to self: do not record.
- Free association writing. Pick up some paper. Write down some random shit. Tear it up and throw it away (well actually please recycle it, unless you want to burn it, then that’s okay too).
- Eat something healthy because I know I really want to eat all of the cheese in my fridge and drink all of the beer I have. Strawberries and health tea make me feel superhuman for a second.
- Wear the comfiest socks I own.
- Put on non waterproof mascara and cry for the satisfaction of the emo look. It mostly just ends up being random streaks of black on my face.
- Clean my room. OCD tendencies are instantly satisfied.
- Pick up a damn book.
- Do not look at Facebook. I repeat. Do not. Look. At. Facebook.
- Read The Oatmeal
- Look at these cuties again. It was so cute I cried and sent the picture to my boyfriend.
I really don’t like posting statuses on Facebook that are controversial. Mostly because I avoid arguments like the plague, and some people just get way too angry about it and then post unnecessary comments under it like “MY FAMILY WAS MURDERED BY HARAMBE.” Or, you know, something like that, because everyone has that one friend on Facebook with completely uncalled for and unfactual opinions that they post just to prove a point. I get it. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.
But yesterday I finally got so fed up with everyone posting about 2016 and how they can’t wait for it to be over. And it got me thinking. I’m pretty sure everyone said the same thing about 2015 too. And 2014. So I posted this status:
I mean, for real guys, if everyone in 1348 had Facebook, imagine those statuses at the end of the year. “Well, everyone, the black death has doth taken my entire family and most of my friends, leaving me alone in poverty. I resign myself from 1348 and will spend this New Years Eve in prayer that 1349 will bring us abundance and joy.” Or however they talked in 1348. I’m not really sure. But that year had to really suck. Continue reading “2016: The Unnecessarily Heated Debate”
Well, 2016. You’ve been quite a trip. Every year brings new surprises both good and bad, but at least I can say that I crossed off some of my 2016 goals. And then dealt with some unexpected things as well. Wanna hear them? Too bad. Here they are. Continue reading “Holiday Blues and a premature 2016 wrap up”
Thoughts on the elliptical today after too much adulting: 2016 has been a back and forth of me being adult as f**k and regressing to cuddling with my mom while she reads me picture books. And then (as anyone who has me added on Snapchat will know) me crying in the shower while drinking $5 wine from the bottle. So much that the 1.5 litre bottle comes with me to the shower. Do you know how hard it is to drink from that size of a bottle? Not easy. Semi-pro status. Semi/mostly alcoholic status. Continue reading “keeping cheap wine next to the shampoo in the shower”