Just Plain Jennifer: A BLOG

hey ya!

Blog blog blog. I wish I had something fruitful to write here, like I did extraordinarily good with my life today! I quit smoking, I worked out, I ate well, paid my bills, etc. But I didn't do well. It's a day like any other and I was worthless. I've realized that it's because I have depression and social anxiety. I'm such a head case. Maybe that has, I don't know-I'm just reaching here-something to do with me wanting to be a psychologist.

It's all my mom's fault. She's got Borderline Personality Disorder. When I was young, I learned to constantly be perceptive of her moods because at any moment she could go off. So, as I've grown, I've kept that habit. I'm supremely self-conscious and am ever-aware of other's thoughts-especially in regards to me. I give way too much a fuck about what others think of me. Maybe that's why I don't have friends. Maybe I seem like a pushover because I'm kind. (I care what people think, but I am nice anyway) Or maybe people think I'm weird (even though I don't exhibit my weirdness until a certain point with everyone) Maybe everyone has their friend positions filled already and I just missed the boat. Or maybe people like me are just so rare that I've not happened upon more than one of them yet. (my husband)

I did have a friend. She was pretty fucking awesome and we had SO much in common. Of course, I met her 1 month before she was moving away. That really, really sucked. So, I don't talk to her anymore-we just live different lives.

I know that I seem pathetic because I don't have anyone I'm close to (except husband), but I don't want to be felt sorry for. I just want the problem fixed.

Also, I know that I'm so extremely lucky to have my husband, Stewart. He sustains my existence. But, there's nothing like having a girl friend. Who do I have to go to when Stewart's being the dumbass? Well, that's why I come here.

But back to my mother. Until I graduated from high school, I knew that my mom had a screw loose, but I figured it might have something to do with me or I was probably imagining it. So, when I went to a "counselor" about my mom driving me crazy (literally), she told me what disorder she had.

I don't think you can imagine such a relief as I had that day. I took home a book about it and read cover to cover in one sitting. Now, I knew it wasn't me; I had a mission to cure her.

But that wasn't going to happen. So, now I haven't spoken to my parents nor my entire family for a year. And even though my mom is mentally fucked-her sanity drops in for a visit every once in a while. That's what's so hard about all of this. When she's not being a borderline personality, she's actually a great mom. So, I can't just say that she's all bad, be done with it, and feel like I've taken my life back.

The thought that seizes me with such verocity is the fact that my parents might die before I get a chance to speak to them (or for them to have a chance to realize that they've got a problem).

But, I'm so angry that they've made me what I am today. People just look down on me or ignore me. Even though I know that my self-confidence sucks-I do know that I am extraordinary and wonderfully complicated that most of these idiots just don't get me. They could never really get me anyway, because they don't give me a chance based on my appearance or social ability or what-the-fuck-ever. In the end I guess it's really their loss.

If they don't want to give me a chance like I give people, they're not really my type of person anyway.

Fuck 'em.