I know that, as usual, I've not posted much of late, and truth be told, whenever I do seem to need to get my brain thoughts out, it's just me, sounding sad and tired and something wrong with me medically and everything else I always seems to moan and sulk about. 

And this post is nothing new. As usual, I feel like crap, and as usual, I'm fed up of feeling like crap. I don't know where to start, or how to form a simple coherent... Thing.

I'm... Something? Down. Sad. Fed up. Miserable. Unhappy. I hate feeling crap so much - both physically and mentally - and the effort of putting on my brave face and trying to not be all those things... Well, it's almost as exhausting as everything else I have to do. I hate my brain. I hate my physiology. I hate my body. I hate the pain, the exhaustion, the constant feeling like shit... I hate that I feel like I am constantly struggling... Either to look after myself, or the house, or the family. I hate seeing stuff pile up, and after nagging for people to help, I do it all myself, and end up in more pain, feeling more exhausted... And the crap builds up again. 

I hate thinking that people either don't believe me when I tell them how shit I feel, or they do believe me, but aren't bothered by the fact I feel so shit. I've given up for the most part. I tell people I'm "ok" or "tired" when inside I'm a mess, and my tiredness is pure, unadulterated exhaustion. I hate that people still don't get how much anxiety I deal with getting ready and going out. How the acts of being social, of travelling, of standing around talking... How all these things cause me actual physical pain, and my brain to scream and shout and batter on the inside of my skull. 

A few hours of housework, a trip out, hanging with friends for a few hours, sorting stuff out... That might not sound like much to you, but that is a FULL ON busy week for me. I can go to bed at one in the afternoon after all this, and be a wreck in bed for 20 hours - only to have to pop-up and rejoin the world. 

I feel so alone with all this in my head so much of the time. I can't talk about it much as I am sure people think I'm just droning on about poor tired me. People think I'm lazy as I would rather stay in. That I'm a slob as I wear lounge pants and not jeans. That I'm messy because I haven't brushed my hair or shaved. I'm not droning on, I'm trying to get people to understand how me (and people like me) feel when we are having a rough time. I'd rather stay in because the act of getting ready and going out hurts me both physically and mentally. I wear lounge pants as the material from my jeans hurts my skin, and they're heavy on my body. I haven't brushed my hair or shaved, because I simply don't have the strength in my arms to do my hair or facial hair after brushing my teeth or pulling on a tee shirt.

I would give almost anything to not feel this way. To not have people exchanging glances at one another when I try talking about being awake for 30 due to pain, despite being exhausted. To not have friends suddenly disappear on you because you know you've either bored them to death with your moaning, or because you didn't reply to a message and they think you're ignoring them. I want nothing more than to not feel like every anxiety and stress in my brain is going to suffocate me. 

I hate how I am. I hate how I feel. I can't not be this way, and I can't not feel how I feel. I can't "think positive thoughts" and be better. I can't "just push though it" or "tough it out" or "man up" or whatever to not feel so shit. 

If you don't get me, fine. But don't expect your not-getting-it will on any way change how I am - if you think it's just me being lazy, just me not putting in the effort, or not being bothered - that's your problem, not mine. Your thoughts & beliefs won't change how my body or brain react to anything. 

I thought by the time I was 40, life would be easy, simpler, happier... I just feel like I've been stuck in the same shitty reoccurring dreams for seventeen years, and instead of life getting easier, and me coping with my issues, the opposite is true. Physically I'm useless, and mentally I'm just a bundle of neuroses and stress. 

I'm sorry to sound like a broken record. I just don't know what else to do with myself. 

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