The Sea Jar

I have not left my apartment in two days. I can see how easy it would be for me to become a shut in.

I didn’t actually talk to anyone today either.

Kay got laid off from her job on Thursday and decided to leave for three days to see her boyfriend. I’m glad she’s gone because when she gets back she’s going to be here all the time. Her coming home early on Thursday was so disruptive to my workflow that I worked straight through until 7:30 /this/ evening trying to get all the production work done.

I hate how much of my time it takes up. He’d better like it! I work hard and I still haven’t been paid anything.

After that, I sort of reclaimed my day off. I watched Archer, made a batch of waffles for the week, and finally finished off one piece for my illustration portfolio while finishing up that Merlin TV movie from the 90s with Sam Neil (which is still awesome, btw).

I also relieved some stress by singing in Van’s empty room which has killer acoustics. I don’t have a great voice or anything, but there’s something cathartic about singing at the top of your lungs in a space with great acoustics. Try it. Even if its just your bathroom. It releases endorphins for sure.

Still feeling stressed out. No roommate leads. Gotta come up with extra money somehow.

But at least I got one down for the portfolio.

I dreamed about you last night like I haven’t done in many many months. You were handsome as ever but your mouth was pulled tight into a straight livid line.

I wiped my hands on a dish rag and beckoned you to sit down at the table. You did but almost as if pushed into the chair by an unseen force.

You kept saying “I don’t understand” and you were clearly agitated, angry with me, but you couldn’t put it into words. Someone was with us but I couldn’t see her, only that she was a friend of yours.

You kept searching for words and gesturing to our surroundings, asking “how?” and “why?”

But I knew exactly what you meant. And I said the things you couldn’t say, “how can I live like this? You don’t understand how I can be happy? How anyone can have failed so spectacularly, how I can stand it?”

And the answer to all your angered wondering was I don’t know and I’m not happy and I can’t stand it.

But I didn’t get a chance to speak the answers. I started to cry and woke up with tears on my face.

Man. The guy declined our offer. We have 9 days to find somebody or I don’t know how I’m going to pay my rent.

I’m having oscillating emotions again— one minute I’m fine and the next I’m freaking out about employment— then i’m fine again and then I’m freaking out about my roommate situation.

It’s very confusing for my nervous system.

Van has finally moved out (and that means her uninvited live-in boyfriend has also moved out).  Kay and I have interviewed a few people and we found a guy that we think would fit in great with the two of us and we’re now playing the waiting game to see what he says.

The stress of Van moving out and taking over the bills and finding a new roommate has made me sick.  I never get sick nowadays unless I’ve had a serious stress related episode, which I did last Monday. So, naturally I’ve been feeling feverish and the beginnings of a sore throat. I’ve been chugging Wal-flu and orange juice and that seems to have warded it off.

The production job I’m doing is still ongoing… and I found out that the money I’m getting is via gift card, which totally sucks. I told him to make it an amazon gift card because at least then I can use it to buy almost anything (except rent and groceries and my student loan bills, but whatever).

I actually volunteered for another assignment from them because it would be an honest to god animation position. I’d get assigned a 15-30 second sequence that I actually could put in my portfolio. The pay is even less than what I’m getting now (it’s a lot less work though… 30 seconds vs 5-8 minutes of layout).

BUT— I did it because then I will have TWO credits at the studio, and one of those will be in my field of study. IF the animation director decides to hire me.

All these things are a worry to me. I’m so worried that I won’t be able to get a job come June because that’s when my money will run out.

There’s a paid internship at Van’s company that starts in June and I really hope I get that because it would be such a good thing for my resume and my sense of self worth.  It’s an illustration/animation position, which I feel is perfect for my skill set.

Though I worry because Van might not want to help me, in fact she’s in a position to hurt my chances too.

So much worry. Too much. :(

Went to a concert tonight that I was 100% peer pressured into going to. It’s not that I didn’t like it, I did, but the idea of it was so unappealing to me.

My former department head, whom I once truly loved, organized the trip with his “favorites”. So i had to go because the thought of missing it made my jealousy monster rear its ugly head.

DH decided to get us front row center seats.

Normal people’s first thought: OMG awesome!

My first thought: shit.

Because front row means you can’t hide in the crowd. You are seen by the performers and by everyone behind you.

I was afraid he’d notice I was faking it, or he’d mistake my anxiety as displeasure.

The whole time I was sitting there next to DH, I was torn between being awed by the the sheer skill of the performer, and by having to constantly reassure myself that it would be over soon.

And then it was over and I managed to get through it, only to have the group want to meet the performer after the show, which is very, very harrowing to me. I do not know what to say to a performer other than “you were great.” I have no need to tell them what they mean to me or to try to endear myself to them. My fear of humiliation outweighs any pleasure that might be derived from the act.

I am a wallflower through and through.

But I waited in line and pretended to be normal, pretended not to feel sick at the prospect of directly interacting with the famous person. But I got through that too. He recognized us from the front row.

And then we were saying goodbye and I thought, yes, finally I can let go of this breath i’ve been holding and then I can be myself.

Except I was in a carpool and everyone wanted to go to a bar, so I had to go too. Thus, I continued to pretend, kept the smile plastered to my face like an actress facing the press.

I didn’t drink, though. I never drink when I am uncomfortable in social situations because the thought of losing control of this tightly wound machine makes my anxiety skyrocket.

That and while everyone else has a day off tomorrow, I do not. I can’t be having a hangover or any alcohol related pain.

And finally after six hours of being “on” and pretending, I can let go and put it all behind me.

I hate my brain, sometimes.

This has been the most stressed out I have been in a while.

My anxiety pangs from yesterday did not go away. And now my roommate is mad at me for something and is ignoring me, which is what she does when she’s mad.

I don’t know what I did.

Last night she came home late, mumbled something to me and then crawled directly into bed. This morning when I got up for work she said nothing to me. And when she got home from her job she went directly into the other room where she told our roommate who is moving out all about her past two days and then when she came back into our room, she continued to not talk to me.

Now she’s been on the phone for over two hours and when I crawled into bed she left the room to talk.

I hate it when she does this. She gets mad and holds grudges forever over perceived slights. I have no idea what I did. I can only imagine she’s annoyed with me over the Comcast debacle because in the height of my stress I texted her a few times to let her know what she was walking into.

My stomach will not stop hurting. I can’t handle this. I’m the only one who’s dealing with the fallout of losing our roommate. I’m the one who found a potential new person and had been coordinating with her.

I’m the one who’s been cleaning the apartment and trying to get my shit together to impress this new potential roommate in between working and trying to pull together an internship portfolio and doing the contact job stuff.

It’s a lot. It’s a lot for someone like me, someone who suffers from GAD.

I called my therapist today, but she’s still out on sick leave or whatever. It seems like whenever I have the most stress she’s never there.

Today was awful.

On my way home from work, Comcast called me to say that my roommate had switched over services into my name and needed to verify my information. He said it would take 20 minutes.

Three hours and five Comcast representatives later, it was finally completed.

There were so many problems (none of which were my fault) and I got handed over to so many different people, the call got dropped once and I was transferred twice to the wrong department— the whole thing was a stress inducing nightmare.

It’s things like this that really trigger my anxiety and self loathing. Everything i hate about myself was illustrated by this episode today.

It should have been a simple task for normal people, but for me it takes three hours and by the end I’m an overwrought mess.

This is exactly why life is hard, why I dread doing things. It’s the little things that fill me with fear. These little terrifying tasks are what set me apart from the normal folk. Normal, average everyday people who do not have an anxiety disorder can in no way understand why such an ordeal has ruined my entire night and set my body in physical pain.

“What’s the big deal?” And my answer is always, “if you don’t l know you never will. I certainly can’t explain it to you.”

It’s about six hours later and my gut is still tense and twisting with pain. It hurts so bad right now.

I hate a lot of myself, but especially this part— the part that can’t handle stress or know how to deal with bullshit like this.

I never wished so hard to be normal as when confronted with issues like these that make me feel pathetic, small and incapable.