Fog (a freewrite)

I sincerely considered hiding this post- it is very raw and I feel very vulnerable exposing it.----

Right now my thoughts and feelings have no verbal form. They are an thick fog creating a huge block in my mind- useless yet still opaque, interfering with productive thoughts or actions. I hope the process of writing will help me sort them out.

I am scheduled for my first achitecture tour on the 28th. I am considering quitting the museum altogether. I am so paralyzed by it, this intrusive grey fog, that I can't plan the tours. When I volunteered I thought I would recite scripts, but the position requires creativity, research and planning. The anxiety was so strong during training that one of the ladies who unofficially mentored me thought I would quit. Well I showed her by passing, but this strong anxiety is the same kind I have relating to school, if I can't break through that- readjust my perception, than I am fighting a losing battle.

Thats the big thing- I am seeing the museum the same way I see school. When I think of school I have immediate associations of failure and humiliation. The failure is my grades, I have always been smart and excited about learning, but never had been able to follow through on anything. It has always been the anxiety.

The humiliation is from the normal teasing that kids recieve when they are young, I was a target in elementary and Jr. High, but since I am so sensitive I made a point to change myself to blend in as much as possible, so even though the overt teasing had stopped I was always hyper-aware, always waiting for the joke at my expense, even creating slights that weren't even intended that way.

I stopped school in 2002, my willpower alone had pushed me to not give up, until I was so bruised and bloodied, from fighting my anxiety, that I fell to pieces. (Having success dangled in my face didn't help matters much) Its a good thing that I want to quit the museum right now, it means I am confronting reality, that this anxiety is going to beat the shit out of me with this position if I don't come up with an alternative, and based on my success with ativan, it is possible that the problem may be chemical.

I am so enraged right now. This pisses me off. I want success too. I want accomplisments too. I feel like it has been granted to others and not to me. I am pissed because if effort, will, and motivation were what was rewarded, I would have success beyond my wildest dreams, but its not the effort that counts, its the result, and I have not had results. DAMN DAMN DAMN!

I am so mad. SO MAD. I want a reward. I toughed out the classes. I finished. I got a mug for perfect attendance (even though I was tending to an "emergency" during one of the walk throughs, so I guess those didn't count towards attendance) I get no reward but to know that I finished the class and some cool books- but the reward I want is to be able to give a tour. The reward I want is to be able to walk into the museum and not feel like a fraud. The reward I want is to be able to walk in the building and not imagine everyone is looking at me and thinking "she's not one of us" I know its a chemical imbalance- fine FUCKING BALANCE IT! Im pissed.

If I were dumb this would be fine. I could be a flight attendant and be okay with it. But I have a brain. I have ideas, I have opinions. I feel like the character in "Johnny got his gun" and the Metallica "one" video. I have no arms, legs, face, nothing to communicate with. I have so much to say but I feel like I have no way to say it. I feel like I am living someone else's life, I feel like the universe wants me to contribute to the body of knowledge, but all I can do, no matter how hard I try, is be a flight attendant. I feel so trapped. I feel like the person I am is trapped and years of pushing myself and fighting and APPLYING MYSELF has only taught me that this anxiety is strong, stronger than I can beat on my own.

It doesn't help that I have done all of this fighting alone. My dad just sat and watched. In fact, not only was he not helping me get through this he wanted ME to help HIM through his mental problems. I was the kid- he was the grown up. All he did was pay the bills, I spent from the age of 12 to the present worried about HIS mental state. What the fuck do I matter? He's in pain. Who cares about my development? He's sad because his wife left him and ex-wife died. boo hoo. What did I matter. Who lets a kid get raised by someone so unstable? FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! WHERE WERE YOU THEN CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU? FUCK YOU AMERICA FOR LETTING SOCIAL PROGRAMS BE CUT. MY DAD WAS THE ASSHOLE I WAS A FUCKING KID! I AM NOT THE ONLY SMART KID WHO HAD A CHANCE AT LIFE BUT IS FORGOTTON. FUCK YOU AMERICA. YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO ADEQUATELY FUND EDUCATION BUT YOU DONT. YOU LEAVE SO MANY CHILDREN BEHIND!

Whew!----

All of these emotions come up in relation to learning. Maybe education has strong links in my brain to abandonment. From the ages of 12 and on I was pretty much alone, the only one paying attention to my development on a daily basis. I imagine therapy can help me break these associations (I hope so) It makes sense to me that I would not do well in school if anytime I try to study all of these capital letters start pouring out of me (LOL)

I need a little break now I think

mood: paralyzed, very bitter