The Real Entry

I think the reason I haven’t been writing lately is because I am having trouble writing creatively. My brain has sort of been feeling like mush lately and it has become increasingly difficult to think of something witty or wry. Sometimes I think I try too hard to be funny or something when it really just isn’t my thing. This was just recently brought to my attention a couple nights ago.

Me: I had so much fun talking with Boyfriend’s dad. He thinks I’m funny.
Friend: I don’t think you’re funny. Like… you’re really nice and sweet and all but I’ve never really laughed at anything you’ve said.

Gee, thanks? At least he doesn’t think I’m a rude cunt so I’ve got that going for me. 
Anyway, it gets exhausting thinking up witty or exciting segues into each topic that I want to write about so I just don’t write at all. I feel like people won’t want to read what I write if I don’t try to make it at least slightly amusing. I’m still not feeling particularly humorous but I thought I’d just write anyway and see what plops out.

I’ve just recently been certified as a TMA (Trained Medical Aide) which doesn’t really mean much. Basically I can get a job at a health care facility (usually a nursing home) as a medication distributor. I give old people their meds. Sometimes this means I have to stick my finger up their asshole if they need their meds in the form of a suppository. Just thinking about doing that is slightly traumatizing. I didn’t even want to pursue this "career" (I put "career" in quotations because you make shit for money and most states don’t even recognize it as a real job title) but I figured I’d better do something with my life before I become one of "those people" that leeches off their parents and has acquired absolutely no skills besides an extensive knowledge of music and film from the ’60s and ’70s. To get certified, I had to endure a whopping two classes a week for about a month. This will not seem like much to a normal person’s standards but to someone with my extremely fragile mental state, it was pretty difficult.

Here’s where I share a few of my mental problems so as to shed some light on why such a seemingly easy school schedule would send me into such a state of disquiet:
I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder (with anxiety attacks ranging from feeling slightly uncomfortable and nervous to balls-to-the-wall crying, hyperventilating, shaking, feeling-like-I’m-gonna-die-if-I-don’t-extricate-myself-from-this-situation-RIGHTFUCKINGNOW debilitation), slight agoraphobia, ADD, intense laziness and no motivation to speak of and just a general distaste for the general populace. I’ve also self-diagnosed myself with high-functioning Asperger’s Syndrome and Peter Pan Syndrome (that’s a real thing, I promise). Of course I in no way think myself special or worthy of pity. It’s not like I’m diagnosed with any real mental disorders like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder (although sometimes I think I have that, too. Maybe I should also add "prone to delusions of mental illness" or "hypochondria" to my ever-growing list) but it does get in the way most of the time. Oh, I’m also depressed but who isn’t these days?

So, the aforementioned paragraph that admittedly went on longer than I expected it to is why I had trouble with the TMA class. Many times I thought of giving up. I whined a lot. I became a screaming stress-monster more than twice (my poor mother got the brunt of that delightful side to my personality). It was just generally not pleasant in my brain at all. But I ended up passing and getting certified, much to my astonishment. Now I have to actually try to get a job and suffer even MORE mental afflictions. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never be able to function as a normal member of society. My doctor put me on Paxil (my fourth antidepressant). He’s getting impatient with me because no meds work. He called me a "tough nut to crack." Blerg.

You know, I was going to write about more than just what I’ve written about but I’ve become lethargic and my brain is melting out my ears, metaphorically speaking. I also think I should make something to eat because it’s 11:35 at night and all I’ve had to eat today was a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, a string cheese and a few Triscuits (maybe more than a few…). I also want to watch Tangled (did I mention I am a woman-child?). Word to the wise: Nutella and peanut-butter sandwiches are not as good as you might think and totally do not taste like the sandwich equivalent of a Reese’s peanut-butter cup.