Moving On

So many different thoughts flying in my head at once. Voc Eval finished, and I almost wish they would keep everyone a full week, because that might be a decent test of how well a person can bear up under that schedule. BS says a lot of their clients can't. I thought it would be a cakewalk, but I think I was starting to show strain.

Tuesday was harder than Monday, with me employing my coping mechanisms more frequently (mostly homeopathic stress reliefs, but also one thing that could be termed "unhealthy", and thus will not go on the internet). Wednesday, while I was waiting, I laid my head down on my desk and fell asleep for a little while. Also, Wednesday saw me pull out my coping mechanisms very frequently.

And, fortunately for me, we were done yesterday, because I slept till 2:30pm today, which almost never happens. Granted, I did stay up till 2am, because I knew I didn't have to get up, but when I do that, I usually wake at 10am.

I was thinking earlier, before I sat down to do this, that it's a wonder I blog at all. I have this omnipresent belief that unless someone asks me a direct question, they're probably not interested in what I have to say.

And yet, here I am, sending information about myself into the ether, but I think it's because people wouldn't look at my blog unless they wanted to know what I have to say. If they weren't interested, they could just close the tab or window.

Whereas, in conversation with real humans, it may not be considered polite to tell someone you just don't care, will you please shut up. So I opt to shut up in the first place, and if you want to know something, you can ask.

Alanis Morissette

because I can't not
because I can't not
because I can't afford to be misread one more time

and who do you think you are why do you question me?
Can't Not, by Alanis Morissette

Sorry, but my life right now is revolving around certain things: my thyroid and how it affects me and how so many people have completely misread me, the note I got from my "friend" and wondering how the rest of that group of friends feels about me, and the way the past keeps repeating itself, and how I always want to run away whenever I fuck up that badly.

It's just that I'd complain about some of the ways my body's not working, and people would always just be like, oh, it's just stress. You're not depressed, you're stressed. Your body's not falling apart, you're just stressed. You're not going crazy, you're just stressed. (Oh, wait.)
I remember vividly talking to the Storyteller of the Sunday games, telling him about problems I've already complained about (the constant fatigue, the inability to sleep, etc.), and then I told him the "new development", that thyroid problems run in my family, and I think that might be it. Now, I didn't mention that I had just learned this that weekend, because I figured he'd understand that since I hadn't mentioned it before, he would realize I hadn't known about it before.
No. He assumed I had known about it all along, and basically told me, you're just imagining things. You're just looking for a reason, an excuse, when really, you're just stressed.
And I mean, I guess it makes sense. It makes sense that people would already know their own family's medical history, and all that.
The problem, of course, being that I'm not most people. My dad was adopted, and has no medical history from his biological parents. And my dad's the one who brought us the thyroid problem.
Blah.

I'm supposed to be cleaning (again, my "rent"), but I was listening to Alanis while cleaning, heard the song, and had to post a note.
Laters, before dad finds me on the computer and yells at me.