That's the thing about disorders, they are a commonly targeted weak spot. The right combination of words from the right person. The visual stimulus of a particular creature. The imagined potential of physical harm. Things that are normal to dislike, but are strange to cower from. And what's more, the fear of the thing can enlarge and start to envelop circumstances in which the thing could appear. No meetings with people who could say those things. No environments where the creature might reside. No activities involving anything like that contraption. The mental block raises anxiety levels to above average on normal circumstances, but the real problem arises when confronted with the thing itself. The utter surprise cannot be correctly handled by the mind, which sputters and stalls, unable to move on, unable to understand. Terror runs like poison through the veins, paralyzing as it goes. One can only hope to recover soon.
I'm not sure what the official diagnosis of me would be, but here's how I explain it:
I'm terrified that everyone, without exception, does or will hate me. I'm so afraid of doing something wrong, and I'm mortified when it happens. Tonight, for example, I was talking with my new step-brother about Eve online and battlefield, two games he plays. I honestly thought it was going rather well. I was trying to politely make my exit by saying, "Well, I'll let you listen to the sounds." (He had previously let me hear through headphones the good sound quality of battlefield, which he was presently playing, and had commented on how much he enjoyed that aspect of the game.) To which he replied something along the lines of, "How generous." My brain locked. I couldn't tell if it was sarcasm. Was I not supposed to leave? Was there something else he had wanted to explain to me? Had he not wanted me here all along? Was I annoying? Had he said something the suggest this before and I just didn't catch it? I couldn't function well enough to properly process his "'Night", so I mumbled "same to you" and walked out.
Now I'm downstairs, 40 minutes later, still freaking out. I really hope he doesn't hate me. I mean, it doesn't make sense that he would HATE me just for being annoying. But then if in one day I've already gotten on his nerves he probably doesn't like me. I really don't like when people don't like me. I want my step-brothers to like me. Both of them. I think the other one doesn't like me, but that's probably just me being paranoid. He wasn't avoiding me, he's just busy. Surely. The my-age/older brothers I've wished to have my entire life don't hate me. It's just... just... I don't know. I really don't like my head sometimes. What if they find out? What if they think I'm obsessive? Creepy? Crazy? What if that makes more annoying, and they never want anything to do with me?
What is WRONG with me? Why am I so unsettled by two words? Why can I still see his face when he said them? Why can't I decipher it? Why do I CARE?! It's never going to be mentioned again. He'll just hate me and never let me know. He'll just hate when I'm around. He'll still act nice, but only because he doesn't want to cause problems. What was I thinking. We'd never have been friends anyways.
..... so yeah. Sometimes, like nowtimes, my brain does things. This is enough of a demonstration methinks. It makes me worried sometimes. How am I ever going to be able to live a life with someone else if I'm always on my toes about doing things wrong? As hard as I try, I can't be perfect. I'm going to do stupid things unintentionally. I'm going to get hurt a lot and get paranoid without them doing hardly anything. Two words. That's all it took tonight. Sometimes it only takes a facial expression. And this issue is not my only one. How can I do that to somebody? Even if I fulfill a few needs, I don't think I could honestly burden someone with taking care of me. That's why I'm going to live alone with a cat. Because I'm emotionally crippled.
I should really be able to get a license or something to carry around a comfort cat.
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