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Saturday, December 31, 2016

The Sixth Diagnosis

So I guess this is where I say "Happy New Year..."

My father has a real talent for making his wrongs against someone that person's fault. Like tonight. He was talking over me, not giving a rat's tush about what I was saying. Besides being irritated, I had to shout just to make sure he knew I was talking. He says to me, "You don't need to shout at me. Not a good idea." All this in possibly the most condescending, demeaning tone you've ever heard. So I said, "You weren't listening, so yes, good idea." He refused to listen to me yet again and still believes I was in the wrong. 

I've known for years that my father in an undiagnosed narcissist, but the ironic part is, he's an insecure narcissist. He'll take any slight against him as though he doesn't understsand why. Like now. I'm angry with him and he has exactly zero idea why.

I've gotten several books on how to deal with narcissists, but I suppose I actually have to read them for them to do any good. So that's my new goal. I'm going to finish at least two of my narcissist books this year. I'd say all of them, but I'm also trying to finish Harry Potter and a series by Janet Evanovich/Lee Goldberg (Fox and O'Hare. Great books!).

So basically, my extremely limited ego gets shot down by a man who supposedly cares for me. The ting is, when I'm stroking his ego, like listening to him tell me the same boring story for the millionth time, he's fine, but as soon as I try to get him to acknowledge me and my issues, he's got no idea what to do. 

Fun example: a few nights ago,  I asked him to stay up with me because I didn't want to be alone. He proceeded to tell me every aspect of his flashlight (it's tactical. Ooh...). Then he downloaded a flashlight app on his phone. He then proceeded to play with it. All the while, I'm sitting there, patiently listening. When I finally get too overwhelmed to take it anymore and bring up that I feel like crap, he has exactly zero idea what to say. If it's not about him, he's lost.

So I'm dealing with basically six diagnoses. Five of my own and his. I can't keep doing this much longer. I'm going to lose it with him one day.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Breathing

Have you ever felt all warm and comfy, yet completely empty inside? This is how I feel.

So , winter sucks. The nights are long, the sky is cloudy, and this whole snow thing I could definitely do without.  But alas, I live in Utah, and we're kind of known for having "the greatest snow on earth." Personally, I could do winter in Arizona.

Back to my point. With the cold, never ending nights, it's kind of like I've lost myself. I mean, last summer, I became pretty comfortable with who I am and how I think, but that part if me is missing right now. I feel empty, hollow. I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but I think y'all know where I'm coming from.

I never like being alone, but winter makes it particularly difficult. My parents go to bed earlier than I do, so that leaves me to my own devices for an hour or two every night. Lately, I've been taking NyQuil just to knock me out so I don't have to be alone. At least alone and awake...

So I've rediscovered one of my favourite bands and they have a song that really works for me. If you're so inclined, find it on YouTube. It's called "Just Keep Breathing" by We The Kings.  So I just got to remember to just keep breathing when I feel like this. 

Monday, December 19, 2016

Thanks Amber

I'm going to catch flack for this post, but it has to be said.

I have played clarinet since I was eleven years old. My elementary band teacher kind of sucked, so I didn't learn to play very well. I was last chair from sixth grade all the way to my sophomore year of high school. I got lessons that summer and jumped to second chair, not only in the school, but in the district. I was actually good! I absolutely loved to play! Well... until my senior year. That's the year my band teacher taught me to hate music.

My high school band teacher has always played favourites. It's a well known fact. Another well known fact is that I was never one of her little pets. In fact, she disliked me. I have no idea why or what I did to make her feel that way toward me, but the fact remained. There are several accounts which prove my point. Allow me to explain...

Junior year I was second chair. Second in charge. Our section leader was going to be out for one of our pep band events (a football game). Teacher left third chair in charge. I don't know why, so don't ask.

Junior year during the musical... She sees Brad and Kathryn bullying me. She sees me in near tears. She ignores me. I felt like I couldn't go to her because I knew her distain for me. I couldn't tell her that two of her pets were bullying me because she wouldn't have believed me anyway.

Senior year I was supposed to be first chair, but once again, she doesn't like me. She takes, get this, fourth chair and puts him as first because "he's been taking lessons." I started lessons long before he had, and during the semester, I still had to teach him things. I was better than he was, and she knew it.

The worst offense, however, came near the end of the first semester. We were having a sectional out in the hall (that's where all the clarinets get together to practice our parts). I was goofing off with one of the sophomores. This one guy (we'll call him Princess although his name was Matt) thought we were laughing at him. Wait... he thought I  was laughing at him. Me. Specifically. So he goes and tells teacher, who then proceeds to berate me and demean me right in front of everyone. Me. Not the sophomore who was also laughing with me. I try to defend myself, but she wouldn't let me. I quit after that.

Amber Tuckness is nothing more than a bully.

Borderline or no?

Ok then.

So I went to therapy Friday and learnt something about myself that was quite a relief. See, I've always had this fear hat I had Borderline Personality Disorder as well, but what I learnt made it quite clear that I don't. My therapist said that if she could rename Borderline, she'd call it "invalidated childhood." While I did, indeed, have an invalidated childhood, I developed a skill that Borderlines do not. I learnt how to validate myself.

This definitely explains why I'm not one to fish for compliments or scramble for attention. Yes, I feel ignored a lot, but I'm not constantly seeking attention or validation. 

The biggest reason I was relieved to find out that I don't have Borderline is because I don't need to add anything to my list of diagnoses. I've already got five. That's plenty for one person. Nobody needs to hog all the diagnoses. Let others feel special too, right?

This has been weighing on me for a few years, so Friday was like lifting the world off my shoulders. I guess this will teach me to not read the DSM-5 and self-diagnose. Nobody should. Let the professionals do that. Lessons learned.

In other news: Christmas Eve is also the first day of Hanukkah. So whichever you celebrate, hope it's a happy one!  

Monday, December 12, 2016

Texts, Class, & Church

Day from Hell.

Today started off with me getting awakened by a group text. First off, I hate group texts. Loathe them with every fiber of my being. But this one was particularly obnoxious. It was my team wanting to meet an hour and a half before class started. Fan-freaking-tastic. So I get up, get ready, and I get there only to find one member of my team waiting. We were then joined by the other two guys in the group. I was stuck in a room of boys who would rather talk about the new gaming system than the presentation we had to give today.

Then there was class... We did our presentation. I not only made the powerpoint, but I was the clicker, changing the slides during the presentation. I participated. I cleared this participation with my pain in the butt teacher, who, after class decided that all the work I had put in wasn't enough and he wanted a video of me doing the entire presentation that my group had just done. So basically I did twice as much work as the rest of my team because Herr Hitler decided I didn't do enough.

And to top off my day, I had a church activity tonight. I've told y'all before about how I hate Utah Mormons and church activities... Tonight was no different. Well... I brought my friend from another church with me, so that was different. But the behavior of the rest of the people remained the same. My friend and I sat at a table with three guys to cut and tie fleece blankets (we're doing them for the children's hospital in town), and it was basically them and us. The three guys were talking among themselves and left us out almost entirely. My friend, being the person that she is (bless her!), interjected a few times into the guys' conversation, and one of the guys looked genuinely annoyed that she had said anything. The other two talked to me for maybe two minutes. All in all, there were about twenty people there, and I can really only say that my friend talked to me. No, I'm not the most outgoing person, but I'm DAMN funny when you actually take the time to get to know me! But that's the problem, isn't it? Nobody takes the time to talk to the quiet girl-- to get to know her.

I've said it before and I'll say it again... I am never more suicidal than when I'm at church or a church activity. Whichever religion you choose is supposed to make you feel whole, right? Make you feel like you're a part of something bigger. The only thing I feel is ignored, dejected, and suicidal. One of these days, I'm not going to stop for the idiot left turner and I'll just hit them dead on. Maybe that will do it. I can think of over a hundred ways to do it all without the chance of survival. All I need is the right push, and church gets me to that point every... freaking... week. If just one person would talk to me like I'm a human being, maybe I'd feel like I mattered once in a while.