Being Positive is Overrated

I have been fairly negative lately and it’s hard not to be. There are certain triggers for me, movies, music, or just a bad conversation. I’ve watched several emotional movies over the past couple of days and that’s enough to bring me down. If you add in my health, my family, and lack of support you get the perfect storm. I have not been sleeping well either. My energy is at a zero. There is nothing that interests me.

It’s funny that for someone who doesn’t speak to many people I can’t remember who told me I have to think “positive”. That I have to change my “mindset”. I remember thinking to myself “shut up, shut up, shut up” but can’t remember the person. I probably blocked them out on purpose. It’s the biggest load of crap you can say to me. I also hate it when people ask me to repeat myself. It takes a lot of effort for me to speak in the first place so asking me to repeat myself is torture. I’d rather not talk at all.

My father does this constantly. I know he is hard of hearing in one ear. But most of the time it’s because he isn’t paying attention. Sometimes when he says “What?” I say I was talking to the dogs because it’s easier. I really wanted to have an intelligent conversation about what’s going on in the world but I can’t. I wanted his views on if we really belong in Iraq helping to fight a war that will never end because of what they are fighting for. If we should really be helping South Africa more because what they fight over is tangible and after watching 2 recent films I was so disgusted that we are not doing more there and wanted to know why. But there is no one to talk to about these things so I keep silent. It’s probably why some people are so surprised when I do speak intelligently on a topic other than hair and make up.

I’ve been on some spending sprees too. I feel guilty after. I try to justify my purchases but I really didn’t need a Keurig, a Smart Blue Ray player, a new Smart Phone, or a pair of boots. I do like the Keurig though.

Lately I feel fear constantly. It’s in the pit of my stomach. I feel life is going by and I’m sitting on the couch too tired and too afraid to do anything. I don’t like this feeling. I’m irritable and restless at the same time. I feel I’m doomed to be unhappy forever. I’m so used to being miserable I don’t know how to be anything else. This scares me too.

This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be. I was supposed to get married, buy a house, have children, grow old with my husband. I’ve never been on a real date. Even now I don’t look men in the eye. Unless they are my Doctor. Yes I’m having a pity party and I’ll cry if I want to. I’ve earned that right. In AA they would talk about “pity parties” and it would make me want to scream. Who the hell are you to tell me I can’t grieve the things I’ve lost or will never have? You don’t know me, you only know what I tell you here. A story for another day.

It’s time to check on the puppy from hell and maybe try to sleep. At least he makes me smile sometimes when he’s not pooping on the floor or chewing my new boots.

 

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