I F*cked Up

There are times when I get so excited about things, that I forget some details. Like offering things that aren't mine, technically mine. In the moment, all I can think about is doing something amazing with friends. I can't wait to show them, and I'm only in the moment. The back of my head is telling me I shouldn't, it isn't mine to give, or share. I shove that voice into a dark corner and stay in my tiny little happy spot. I love to share, and to give. I love seeing others excited and happy, especially from something I did. But I was in the wrong. I accepted the responsibility 100%, for it was solely my idea. The moment, the question was asked, my heart sank, and my body went cold... as it normally does, when I know, I am in trouble. I don't like being in trouble, not just because of the anxiety flares, but I don't like disappointing people that see me a certain way. I've worked hard to build a trust with these people, and I've chipped it. I feel so ashamed and so upset. I couldn't convey it in the moment, just because of my anxiety, it kept me frozen. All I could do was nod and give small responses. I don't like confrontation, even if it doesn't involve me. Though I don't do a lot of things wrongly, as in being in the wrong, I am always afraid of getting into trouble. Whether it be with friends, family, or work. I stay in fear, and that drags me further down into my dark depths of depression and anxiety. Yes, in the moment, I had a notion of knowing I was doing something wrong, but I did not intend any ill-will, or anything harmful by it. I just hope I didn't lose all what I gained... 

What's Wrong with Me?

 I hate the idea of being alone, physically and socially alone. I don't like going without some sort of human interaction. I came from quite the sizeable family, on both maternal and paternal sides. Every day was spent with someone, usually a group of family and friends together. The idea of not having anyone, whether it be friend, romantic partner, and etc, is utterly terrifying. A lot of the times I go out of my way and try to keep people happy, so they will stay in my life. It's like I'm buying their interactions with me. I, in the past, have bought someone a cell phone and minutes, because I didn't want to lose contact with them. That "relationship" ended very poorly. I guess it's true when they say you can't buy happiness. The worse part about the aforementioned incident, is that I cannot afford a lot of things in my life, so when I spend a significant amount of money, it hurts me financially. In the moment I don't care at all, but after it's said and done, I worry about how I am going to get my bills paid. I can't afford another Insufficient Fund Charge. I've never been this bad with my money. With time, I have gotten worse with controlling and budgeting my funds. I can do it, I have done it in the past, but now, it's become quite difficult. Am I spending money to try and fill some sort of "empty space" in my life? Am I trying to distract myself from my mental situation? Am I going to stay broke the rest of my life? These questions pop into my head constantly, and then I go to sleep and they fade away, until I open my wallet the next time. This segment is a little unorganized, but they fit together. Until next time.

Walk A Mile in My Shoes

Sometimes, emotions are overbearing, too over-cumbersome. Some people can handle them day to day. Even I manage to hold it together, most days... and then the other days, oh the other days. I have times where I find it hard to get out of bed. My mind tells me I should just stay in bed, the world can go on without my presence. Depression covers me like a wet blanket, so heavy and overwhelming. A lot of the time I don't understand why I feel the way I do. Why am I crying? Why can't I get out and spend time with friends and family? Then come the anxiety attacks. No one has talked to me, or responded to that last text. Did I do something wrong? Did I upset someone unintentionally? I'm going to lose them forever. They don't love me. They don't care about me. My diagnosis has to be wrong, I can't have PTSD. I must be BiPolar or Schizophrenic, that runs in my family. Are the doctors wrong? Should I even went to something I won't be able to afford? Should I take the medication? Is it really working? All these questions I keep asking myself. On the outside, you wouldn't know what I'm suffering, or that I'm suffering at all. I give off a happy "vibe" and try and remain outward positive. I work hard at making others happy, or getting them to laugh. I smile all the time, but most of the time they are lies. I do need help, and I wish to accept it, but is it worth it? Will it really work?