Manipulative Me

 Wow, these posts are planned to become more frequent an average of nearly six months between them seems to be a constant in my life. So, what's happened since April? Vaccinated, therapised...somewhat.

I need to work on telling people what I want. That's extremely challenging, I cant even fill out budget requests at work for fear of having to be held accountable for how having an office chair makes me better at my job. The therapy itself has been beneficial, however, it has made me think of when my inability to tell people what I want started. Don't worry, wont go through that here.

For someone who doesnt ask for what he wants, I have many things that I want.  In the past I've been accused of being manipulative, maybe so. Maybe (therapy head) a bi-product of my previosly diagnosed inability. I often feel ashamed, guilty or downright unworthy of asking for things that I probably try to arrange for them to happen "organically" right or wrong.

Wants and desires can be acted on by myself quite willingly as long as Im the sole participant, new clothes, shoes, premium motor oil, all me. Things that involve others, I will try to arrange things so that I dont have to decide or when faced with an alternative, I'll pick the option that will hamstring my happiness or make the other parties happy. Makes me seem like a nice person most of the time, alas, it also makes me miserable and also makes me feel worse when I do the shoes and premium 5w40.

My true wants feel like something I can look at in my hands and weep over while everyone is asleep. I try to scrunch them into a ball and hide them away as often as I can. I lie awake hoping that people will say the magical combination of words that will mean my cryptic hints have been decoded...they dont. 

My job means I must answer 150 pointless (in the scheme of life) questions a day. I hope and wish to not decide when work is finished but get so upset inside when things dont go as I'd hoped. I suppose there is a way to fix that. Although, I am not sure how someone with no self worth cn either suddenly discover and value it accordingly or can just speak out and be damned the consequences.

This is clearly the wrong way to fix myself but writing things down has a direct correlation with healing (I'm told). Either that or this blog will be the undoing of me, personally, professionally and relationally. Stay tuned to find out which.

I.M.

Triggered Me

 It seems that two months between posts is quite a quick turnaround at the moment. "Some people just dont want to get better". Not overly sure how to feel about such triggering posts.  The kind of people who post stuff like that seem to like pointing out faults in others and by virtue have no interest in rising above such actions themselves. Ironic.

Whenever I speak with an adult I resort to a phsychological age of around 16. Not about to start telling them why Puff Daddy is like a modern day Shakespeare but rather abandonning all confidence in my own knowledge and abilities. Forgetting that I am an adult of nearly 40 and have life and profissional experiences, as well as higher education on my side in a wide range of exchanges. I feel that I have nothing to offer any sort of interaction outside of family and some friends and am totally devoid of confidence.

When will I be cured or fixed? I asked my therapist if I was broken. She told me that she didnt think so, more akin to my thoughts about myself are scattered on the floor and I can only reach for the negative ones as they're the easiest to find. It's funny that sometimes the well meaning people get away with saying things they really aren't prepared for. "You can talk to me about anything?" is one thing that doesnt really mean what has been said.  I can talk to you about a lot of things but I sincerely doubt that ANYTHING is actually able to be spoken about due to the confines of friendships and social rules of appropriate conversation.  If I started asking if we could compare bowel movements I think the conversation would end quite abruptly. 

Knowing when something can be said and knowing who certain things can be said to in order to maintain relationships is tricky. Of late I've been trying to say things that are important to me but finding myself cut off or the conversation diveretd and I need to sit there while the words dissolve into hurt feelings right there in my throat. When you have no confidence you need people to listen but to be heard you need to be saying something interesting. I dont think that's me at all.

I dont see myself the way other's do. I havent for a long time and as much as I wish I could snap out of it, its something that has wormed it's way into my beliefs. I cant blindly believe things, and my negative beliefs about myself have been reinforced for decades. 

Mud-guts, chubby, husky, stocky, fat arse, tubby, flabs, man tits, hunchback. There are a few nice vaiations on my name but they're not for the blog. Combined with, "you're a nice guy...", made for a very easy transition to my current state. 

"You're a niuce guy...but youre too fat to dance with me" 

"You're such a nice guy...but you're nowhere near good looking enough to hang around me"

"You will make someone really happy one day...but it wont be me, have you seen how awful you look"

The best advice at the time was the women love confidence. I think it takes a level of confidence that borders on denial of reality to overcome these consistent let downs. Especially when being nice wasnt the barrier with any of these people, it was being thin, athletic, muscular. And I get you cant fake attraction, if it's not there, then it isn't but maybe is better to not sugarcoat the answer.

It bother's me bacause two years of overpriced therapy wont undo 30 years of knowing that the thing that is wrong with me and invalidates me is the skin I live in. I cant stand to look at it. I dont look in mirrors, I get changed in a corner with the door closed. I wear clothes that cover me as often as possible.  I care about how I look but I dont care about trying to look good anymore. I shave most days and cut my hair off at every opportunity. My shirts are all a size too big so they dont pull on my guts or my chest anymore. I walk funny to try and correct my posture but that sticks out my chest and my gut more so I dont know which to worry about more.

In the meantime I apparently got through 37 years without knowing how to walk properly and now my feet need fixing. I'm clumsy and worry about spilling drinks or dropping food.  I dont eat things that might leave a mess on my shirt and draw anyone's atention to looking at my mid section "but some people just dont want to be fixed". Where do I start? 

Saying no to; swimming activities, or anything else that involves tight fitting clothes or shirtless is the norm.  I was once asked while at boarding college to dress up (thank goodness I didn't do it) not because I was studying drama  or was funny, because the characeter was fat.  The person who replaced me was fat too, I hope he's ok.

People have mid life crises I think, because they are tired of being afraid. the popular theory is that people turn 40 are afraid of getting old.  Maybe theyve been afraid of something for a long time and they've just decided that it's pointless being afraid. If that's the case then I look forward to my mid life crisis. If your mid life crisis consists of dying your hair and buying a convertible then good for you. Some people's might involve things of a much more deep and personal level. Things that may have a bigger impact on how you might see them.

Everyone has damage and nobody, even those who think they can just snap out of it can actually snap out of it.  It's taken me 30 years to dig the whole. Snapping out of it would be like kicking all of the dirt back in. That's fine as long as you're not the one at the bottom of the hole. I need the dirt to get shovelled back in slowly anough that I can tamp it back down with my feet and climb out. should take less that 30 years though. And stop posting crap like that and start doing something good for you.

I.M

Empatheticly Me

 Its been a rough start to 2021 (including the hangover issues of 2019). The second half of 2020 was in short, monumentally traumatic for the I.M family. It has rolled on into the beginning of the new year and more challenges professionally that are a catalyst for me feeling very tired, stressed and wanting to get away from things. 

This week in particular has been trying and I have felt more and more that I do not have the skills professionally nor personally to effectively help some people that I need to. This feeling is taking a great toll on me as I scurry by and try to manage my way through the days until my mood changes or my skills catch up to where they need to be.

Being a man of the shed, I am aware of how nice it can be to be away from others and focus on something relatively simple. As my work means that I deal with real people all day the last thing I want to do in my down time is deal with people. I want to be able to be alone to think. Unfortunately I find myself on the couch or at the dining room table with my laptop and a pile of paperwork trying to muddle my way through til next weekend and go to a very light sleep feeling like I'm drowning.

My therapist asked me how the year was going. It feels like a bond film when he's trying to wrestle control of an areoplane before it crashes. I used to think that stress was something that made people worried. I never thought I'd come to the realisation of how deeply impacted one can be due to stress. Lack of sleep, headaches, tense muscles, lack of intimacy, mood swings, hyper obsession with the unimportant or mundane.

These are all signs of serious burnout and Im only 5 weeks into the new work year. I know more is coming, I know I wont stop the feeling of drowning. I know that if I choose to not worry, I will drown in work. We have a new mortgage, I need to work.

The following is an observation that I made today. I write it as just that and not a 'cry for help'. I see why men hang themselves in their sheds. Things get so overpowering, so busy, the consequences of admitting theres a problem are worse than carrying on. They want to have time (and yes women do waaaaaay more than men in most families) to be alone.

I don't want to be one of them, I'm not worried about that. One way forward for these people is for the result of them admitting there is a problem mustnt be worse than carrying on. If I come forward and let it be known that I am suffereing burnout 5 weeks into the new year then my ability to make decisions will be too greatly impacted.  People with mental illness need to be able to decide things but the first thing the stigma of mental illness does is revoke ones authority and expertise in making judgements of any kind because "he was battling demons".

When someone has to choose between carrying on and burning out or risking having their ability and decisions questioned due to stress, what do you think they'll do. Some will carry on...others will carry on until one night they find themselves alone, burned out and in the shed.