You know what, readers? I hate my life.
While not being a dropout of Grad School (I have a freaking Bachelor's Degree), this Life in Hell comic by the great Matt Groening sums up my situation quite well. A lot of stuff around me pretty much crapped out all at once: My car, my job, and now my computer. And all of these things require precious money to be fixed...which I don't have right now. Thankfully, I have another computer and my iTouch or else I'd go insane right now.
My life could be much worse than it already is (I'm lucky that I have Internet, a computer, a car, and a house to live in), but could be much, much better. But it's not. And why not?
I blame my anxieties. I've mentioned them a few times over the last few blog posts that didn't have Gary Busey's face plastered on them, but it's high time that I aired my grievances.
My name is Galileo, and I've lived with crippling anxieties all my life. +I think I have a few points of origin:
1) Abandonment issues. When I was a boy, I had this, like, little Little Peoples playset that I played with all the time. I took it everywhere, even my bathtub. Then one day, I noticed that it went in the trash and I saw the garbagemen haul it away. I was heartbroken, I was never even told about this! Well, this led to packrat issues and I have yet to throw away any toy, game, book, magazine, or plushie, and I even keep the boxes they came in. Seriously, my basement was filled with boxes of Transformers that were as old as the Beast Wars era. I'm getting better, as most of those boxes are no longer intact, yet I'm furious that the boxes for my NES and OG Game Boy are probably lost to the ages.
1a) Ever since my elementary school days until my middle school years, there was a pattern that most of the people I ever made friends with moved away within two years of getting to know them. About only...2 of them have survived since then. Now I have this feeling in my mind that anyone I try to socialize with will end up disappearing on me without notice. Of course, this was in the days BEFORE the Internet which meant my little mind processed that these people all dropped off the face of the Earth. Nowadays, we have Facebook and we can keep in contact, but the feeling still remains.
2) My mom. This is probably the biggest case of them all. Yes, she tries and yes, I love her, but her main way of dealing with stress & disappointment? Screaming and insulting. Since childhood, anything I seemed to do was met with this reaction. There is no worse sound in the world than a mother's disappointment. There may be mental issues I have, but it's the main reason why I don't socialize. Or talk. There's something in my brain that causes my speech & body to lock up on itself, to keep myself from saying or doing anything that would invoke some sort of rage. I don't want that, and I try to avoid it. And by "it," I mean ANYTHING.
And I mean anything, including getting up in the morning and going to sleep, knowing that I'll avoid getting up. I know I probably need help, but I don't know how to do it. I keep thinking that anything I say or do is a mistake, be doomed to be mocked, or I'll be yelled at. Or be called "stupid," "asshole," "lacking common sense," or any combination of the three. At the same time, there's this need to accomplish things myself and not wanting anyone's help.
In short: I am sad, and this is the only way I know how to send the right signal. But the people who probably NEED to read this...won't.
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