I almost didn't make it to NJCon. At the very last minute, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to go. I started the process of finding someone to sell my ticket to, figuring out how to transfer my hotel room into my roommate's name, and coming to terms with the fact that something I had been looking forward to for roughly a year was not going to happen. The cons of going definitely outweighed what I thought the pros would be.
I'm
currently weaning off of my meds (Lamictal first) so I can write
again, and some days are better than others. The headaches,
dizziness, and exhaustion are beginning to wear off. Unfortunately,
the anxiety, depression, repetitive thoughts, and paranoia are still
amplified. Every second of every day for as long as I can remember
has felt like Hell, and for the next several months there will be
moments where it feels even worse. That coupled with the fact that I
need money in order to survive leaving home made it seem like a good
idea not to go. Staying home would give me more money, and it would
also mean that no one would have to deal with me. Because, honestly,
who wants to deal with someone who is like me – especially right
now?
I
have come to learn that 'just staying home' is the worst thing I
could do though – especially if I am making all of these plans to
fight for myself. I have tried the 'just staying home' thing in the
past. It has nearly killed me. I used to think that if I stayed in my
comfort zone, it would all be okay. I'll 'feel better'. Life will be
'easier'. I've considered quitting my job, going on disability, and
'just staying home' from the world. I mean, if tearing myself out of
my comfort zone, even to simply do things that I enjoy, is so
difficult, why not? Because I've found that when I give up what I
want and let my mind win, the only thing I really want to do is die.
So, I make plans to do things that I love and see people that I
admire. Because standing completely overwhelmed and helpless in the
middle of a strange place is still better than lying on my bed,
daydreaming about just ending it all. It takes being out of my
comfort zone to remind me that I still exist and there are reasons
for me to continue to exist.
I
think that when I came to the conclusion that I didn't want to attend
the con, I somehow knew that this weekend would take me out of my
element more than I planned for it to.
Firstly,
in order to afford to stay in the hotel, I made plans to room with
three other girls. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don't get on
well with other people. As much as I wish I could connect with people
on a deeper level, I don't. I can't. I live in a situation where my
daily interactions with others mostly include people yelling and
hitting each other. I live in a situation where people seem to go out
of their ways to make me feel ashamed of my existence. As much as I
want what other people seem to have with each other, there is always
that sinking feeling that people are only pretending to like me. And
the voices that scream, 'You're disgusting. You're bad. No one likes
you. No one wants to be around you. You're creepy. You're annoying.
Everyone wishes you were dead.' So I stick to myself because I can't
handle the loneliness that comes with being around others.
I
knew that rooming with three other people, while good for my empty
wallet, was going to take a mighty toll on me, especially now when I
am going off my meds. And it did take quite a toll.
Thursday
and Friday were miserable for me in that area. When they tried to
interact with me, I didn't want to interact because I knew they would
hate me. When they didn't try to interact with me, I convinced myself
that they already hated me. My social life, which I adamantly try not
to even have, is a never-ending empty void. Being around people and
knowing that I am not someone that exists or matters is another thing
that makes me wish I was dead, even more so than 'just staying home'.
I try to convince myself that I am worthy of friends and that I don't
deserve to feel so lonely, but there is something that tells me that
every human in the world wishes I would disappear the very moment
they meet me; that everything they do and say is just them struggling
to get away from me.
Saturday,
I melted down. It happens. After trying to 'fight' thinking that
everyone hates me, like everyone tells me to do, and continuing to
lose, it happens. I somehow found myself in a crowded area of the
hotel, rooted to the floor, as other people walked by. And all I
could hear was, 'Look at all those people. Look at them talking to
each other. You don't have that. You'll never have that. You're bad.
Don't try. Don't try. You're bad.' over and over and over. I
couldn't conquer it, I couldn't leave, I could only just stare. And I
broke. I always do.
But
there is always something about breaking down at conventions that
makes me a little stronger in the long run. I break relatively often.
It happens when I see groups of friends, families that aren't
screaming at each other, lovers, strangers who managed to make
conversation. I walk away in tears or stand in the middle of a public
area with 'You'll never have that' repeating like a broken record to
me. And then I walk away alone. It matters to strangers on the street
whether or not I'm okay as much as it matters to the people in my
daily life – either not at all or in a way that I am in the way,
that I am a burden. And I weaken. But at cons, not even just Creation
cons, it isn't like that. The moment you start to look sad, you're
surrounded by twenty people asking you if you're okay. You're not
invisible. You exist.
I
realize that on the outside, sometimes existing and being cared about
tends to make everything worse. It's hard to comprehend at first.
There is the desire to push everyone as far away as possible so I
don't get hurt worse. But there is also the need to pull people
close. I always end up freezing up until people give up and leave.
People at cons don't just give up and leave though. My amazing
roommates and new friends continued to return and check on me,
something that doesn't often happen in my life. I can't put into
words how it feels to matter to other people when you so often don't.
I can't put into words how it feels to exist when you so often feel
invisible. It's like being pulled out of quicksand, onto a rock. I
finally have the courage to start to try standing on my own.
The
kindness and support shown to me by my new (and old) friends, by Gil
McKinney, by Osric Chau and by Chris Schmelke this weekend gave
something unexplainable to my life that I never had before. Because
of the wonderful friends I had/made, I gained the courage to try to
connect with other people, spending Sunday night bonding with my
roommates rather than isolating myself. I finally gave in and broke
down to someone in person about how invisible I feel all of the time,
and because of Gil, I actually discovered how it felt to exist. Chris
took the time to make sure one of my photographs was how I wanted it,
despite the hundreds of photo ops he was doing all weekend, giving me
a sense of importance. And, because of Osric, I was able to put
everything in my head aside for awhile and dance at the Cocktail
Party – something I never would have even considered doing if he
hadn't taken the time to boost my confidence and show me how to
dance. It is people like these who remind me how and why to keep
going when I am ready to quit.
To
all the people I met at NJCon – whether you were my roommate, my
friend, someone who stopped to ask if I was okay, or someone who just
simply commented about my bear – you have had an impact on my life
this weekend.
Thank
you.
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