How Not To Drown

 Thoughts from yesterday:

I guess these are always thoughts.

I inherited the worst traits of both my parents. My mother told me this often. I think I probably inherited more of her bad traits, but that's probably because I know very little about my father as a person. I don't know a lot of people that know a lot about their fathers as people, and the people that do seem to regret knowing them. The breakdown was this: my mother's bad skin, she was prone to breakouts, my father's thick black hair, that included body hair, and their general incompatibility with joy. I've probably mentioned a lot of this before. I think I definitely mentioned that I assume, if I am bipolar, that I got that from my mom who I most certainly believe is bipolar. It is also possible that I inherited her skepticism toward accepting I am mentally ill. I think I eventually inherited their fear and tendency to cut themselves off from the world. But there are things that I acquired that were less directly genetic or through osmosis. There are things that, as the kids would say, live in my brain rent free. Cult-like programming. I wonder if all families are not susceptible to cult-like behaviors. We are all in mini cults of personality beneath our parents. My cult was obsessed with the exterior body and how all self-worth would be tied to being accepted as attractive. I guess this is also just the cult of living under the patriarchy? Everything can be blamed on either your parents or the patriarchy. Back to blaming my parents: as I mentioned, my mother was consumed to a degree by the idea that I inherited the worst physical traits of both my parents. She spent most of my life trying to rid my face and body of blemishes and unsightly fur. So many different treatments were tried. As-seen-on-TV acne routines, home made face masks (I have had both honey and potato mushed onto my face (not at the same time)) hair removal creams that melted the fur off and you could not use soap after removal because your skin would get fucked up, home-made waxes (I think these were also honey-based) and store bought waxes of course. Then there were the diets. Flax and smoothies and juices and supplements. The strictly enforced exercise routines. Applecider vinegar.

This all comes to mind because I am going to go to the pool tomorrow with friends, and this hasn't happened in a while, and I feel like I have been breaking out, and I forgot to shave, and there are parts of me that I never shave that I remember to be ashamed of only when going to the pool or before having sex. I spent a lot of my time in hoodies when I was younger to avoid people looking at my arm hair. So, all I can think about is revealing all these flaws around the people I love and generally think of as flawless. Until the harsh scrutiny I developed under the tutelage of my mother kicks in and I quietly begin to zero in on their flaws as well. I hate this about both of us. It is why I prefer to keep my time with her to somewhere between 5-15 minutes, and my time with myself to 0. Maybe this is why I should go to therapy. Maybe I don't understand truly what therapy is because I have never been in a great place to go to therapy. I sort of assume they'll be like "how do you feel? why do you think you feel that way? what do you think you want to/should do/are expected to do about it? Don't do that, Do This." This perhaps comes from the last time I saw a therapist expressing that I had thoughts of self-harm to which she suggested I hold a piece of ice. Which seems like perfectly sound advice. But I'm not sure it was $150 dollars worth of advice.

I don't think it's working out well to vent to my friends or partner, either. I suppose that does also seem to be a use for therapy- to dump all the small and petty things that are bothering you that no one else wants to hear about anymore. Complain about people's hypocrisy or inability to read the room. Which just then triggers concern that you are being hypocritical and do not know how to read the room. It's all a vicious cycle. But then, I think that's why I have you.

My psychiatrist I managed to convince I needed something to help me lose weight. and she kindly went along with my request.  It's a medication meant to get people off of opiates or alcohol. This feels incompatible with my desperate desire to feel not myself for an hour or two. I haven't been able to get drunk all pandemic, and that's probably something desirable. I've heard a lot of people turned heavily into drinking and drugs and everything has just been exacerbated. But I miss feeling warm and dizzy.  

Older thoughts:

 All of my friends have skipped over being mothers and gone straight to grandma mode. I have heard this is popular in our age group. They're all knitting and needle-pointing. Crocheting! Making quilts!

I admit, I am happier to have them taking up old lady hobbies than having children. I don't have the emotional bandwidth for children in COVID times. Rarely did I have the emotional bandwidth before a global pandemic.

I have begun to reengage with some painting. There are a couple of projects I've been meaning to work on. Mostly train related things for my train obsessed boyfriend. They will eventually be posted to my Instagram

Here are the basic bitch things I'm into right now: This Is Us, politics podcasts, complaining about how we're all going to die and nothing matters, and Wordle. I was good for awhile, but have lost my streak. And a meme made me feel bad for DuoLingo so I'm back on that shit. We'll see how long it lasts.

I keep buying things while I'm high on Ambien. Mostly streaming subcriptions that I will never use. The amount of content in the world is overwhelming. I'm never going to get to it all, and I probably largely do not want to.

More Current Thoughts:

I wish I could vibrate on the wave length of the music I love the most.