Sorry I Suck

I have sucked lately. I mean SUCKED. As a friend, as a family member, as an employee, as a person, you name it. My mental illnesses have been winning lately. And not winning in a manageable way, either. My medication doesn't work, so I don't sleep or really eat much, but I do cry a lot and feel everything on a level that's almost painful. But what's the hardest is that it isn't obvious to most that I'm hurting, except for the fact that I've said I am. The words "high functioning" have been a blessing and a curse my entire life, because I've always felt I could just out fight my diagnoses by toughing it out and going to work, going to hang out with people, pushing it down. Deep inside I've known that's incorrect, and I've preached against this method of handling ones mental health issues since I was myself diagnosed.

But we can't always live what we speak. I worked myself so hard I crashed out spectacularly. And because I just show up and do it with a smile no matter what "it" is, I've always felt like no one can even notice when I'm spiraling out. I worked myself harder and harder to succeed at a job that I LOVED but I knew wasn't good for me. The pressure of touching people, being surrounded by large amounts of people, running into those who had abused me in some way in the past, and having to try to not have a panic attack while doing it, made me so sick I couldn't even get out of bed.

And then there was the pressure of just existing in a town that starts rumors about everyone who simply exists outside of the box that the town wants to put you in, the stress of having a niece born at 27 weeks, and working through medication adjustment after medication adjustment just to make my high intensity life seem a little duller (thanks to Borderline Personality Disorder I feel everything at an 11). Life has simply become TOO much. I am simply too much right now. I have all these symptoms I understand but can't fully control and no coping mechanisms.

I know I should be going to therapy, but my first experience with a therapist back here had them telling me to just meditate on my trauma. I'm sorry but if the first five therapists couldn't successfully get me to do guided meditation that was productive in my treatment, I doubt the sixth will be able to. I told her my reservations and she told me I had to actually try. I have not been back since. I miss my therapist back in Auburn, she looked like Anna Kendrick and was really good at just letting me rattle but forcing me to reframe negative thoughts and help me understand my illnesses, especially BPD, which is still a fairly new diagnosis for me.

Because of Borderline Personality Disorder, a lot of things that may not seem like a big deal to most people are read as a personal attack by me. Things as small as moving my purse can send me spiraling into anger or hysterical crying, because what the hell did I do to deserve for my purse to be moved, it wasn't hurting anyone, do they just want my things out of sight because they want to forget I live here? And if they want to forget I live here, are they going to move out and leave me? And then Abandonment Issues joins the party and we just keep spiraling through all the symptoms until I'm lying in bed, exhausted and out of emotions.

Because of Borderline Personality Disorder I've started to notice that I connect with people too quickly and rely on them too much. I've worked really hard to not be so codependent but when I feel that someone understands me, I want to be with them or talk to them all the time because no one else does it feels like. So then I rely so much on that person that I basically hug them to death and they run away.

I feel guilty being friends with people. I feel guilty telling people I'm hurting, because my problems seem like they are so numerous that if I open the door, they'll all fall out at once and people will drown in my problems. And then they'll run. I hate when people run. My support circle fluctuates so much because my symptoms have been so out of control.

Trust me guys. I know that I can be toxic to be around. I sit at home and cry about it. I didn't use to lash out at everyone, I used to really internalize things. But lately I've just felt ugly whenever I'm having a low day and I've become mean, and ugly, and I hate it. I feel so guilty after I'm rude, and I never know how to apologize for my brain literally just leaving me behind and making me a monster.

I'm sorry I've sucked so much. I'm trying so hard to be better and be happy and be healthy but it is a fucking struggle. I love you guys.

Alexis Olmstead is 25 years old and lives in Okanogan County, WA. She's currently working on her first photo series that explores what life with anxiety and depression really looks like. When she's not staring at her niece or sleeping, Alexis is watching too much Netflix documentaries about serial killers. Check back sporadically for more posts. But not too often, because this is the first post in like, a year. 

Thought Spill

Here's my attempt at being brief about things. None of these paragraphs are really connected, but they're thoughts I wanted to put out in the world.

In June, I didn't sleep for almost a month. I was far more depressed than I've been in ages, and I couldn't understand why. I still don't fully know why. I just know that the depression preceeded the insomnia, but the insomnia brought anxiety, and the total sum of these was a lot of missed work. And a lot of crying because I couldn't work. I gained a pant size and now I cry when I look in the mirror. I hate the way my hair looks, but I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll always just be an average looking person, not someone who commands attention just from the aura that surrounds them and their overall beauty. I guess I'll have to resort to relying on my brains to get ahead in the world. Pity.

I've recently realized that I'm going to be 25 and I'll have accomplished nothing of note. Most of my friends have graduated college, have amazing careers in fields they love, and while they don't have it ALL figured out, they have a lot of it down pat. I'd hoped by this time that I would be a teacher, making a difference in someone's life. Changing kids by being the amazing influence that my educators were. But I can't even dream of going to back to college right now. I always say "next year, this year I'm saving up money". The next year comes, the money isn't there, I'm still working jobs I hate dreaming of the only thing I've wanted to do since I was in the fifth grade.

Recently I may have indulged in a drink or two at one of my boyfriends shows and made an ass of myself. There was a lot of drama, I woke up embarrassed, and now I have a lot of work to do to repair my reputation. The main lesson I came away with was that I shouldn't drink Jaeger. While my boyfriend assures me we're going to be okay, and that people fight, and that yes, I was a giant b-word, but he forgives me, please stop apologizing, I'm still having a hard time forgiving myself for the scene I caused. My greatest fear is that he won't realize how grateful I am to have him in my life. How happy he makes me just by being around. And with one big argument, I kind of showed that I don't give two shits about what he does for me, even if that really isn't true.

I used to think that I had a lot of friends, and I thought that was really important. But the someone smart told me that "we have friends for a reason, and we have friends for a season", and that made a lot of sense. There are so many people in life that we are friends with just because we have to be around them frequently, and then there are those friends who are going to stick around even when they have no reason to. I suppose I've just gotten to that point in my life where my "friends for a reason" have slowly begun to fade out, and my "friends for a season" are showing me that they're going to stick around.

 I want to get back in to performing, but I'm terrified of going up against the large scale talent that lives in the Seattle area. I'm just a girl from Omak who likes to play pretend. What if I'm rusty? What if I've always thought I was talented and it turns out I'm actually horrible? What if I actually get cast? There are so many possibilities that I get too anxious thinking about all the pros and cons of everything that could happen that I end up not going to any auditions, even if I'm really excited for them. But how am I supposed to get famous enough to be on Dancing With the Stars if I can't force myself to go sing 60 seconds of a song for a director?

These days I'm more questions than answers, more trainwreck than hot mess, and more stressed out than ever. I'll quit complaining now, I guess.

Alexis Olmstead is a 24 year old trying to cope with the gravity of turning 25, at which point it apparently "all goes downhill". When Alexis isn't working, watching her boyfriend perform with his band, or binge watching true crime shows, she enjoys reading, singing mediocrely, and playing an unhealthy amount of The Sims 3. For more random thoughts about nothing, letters from the road to mental health, and opinions on stuff you don't care about, check back often.