The curse of INFJ

I am brash. Self critical. Self deny. Feeling unhappy is a constant cycle. Shout. Rage. Tempestuous. Ugly cry. Wall face. Fear to fall. Fearless when done. Inner conflict. Suffering. Guilt. Burden. Latching off. Independence. Numbness. Care. Love.

So much love. So much pain. So much guilt. Hate rejection. Hate hate.

Sitting duck.

Please come to bed with me, and place your hand over my head to keep me safe. Because I’m tired of this cycle.

I need to take a break from myself.

Advertisements

Surprise myself, so I will.

There is a high school reunion coming up where I had been on the fence about.

DH has always been my savior when it comes to socializing, especially when it comes to mingling among our school friends ever since we were together. I would enclose myself within myself and sit back just watching him and join in as and when it feels comfortable. Even when it gets to parties at home. I cook and provide, he invites and PRs the party on. Yeah, I’m boring as shit. Lol. But I’m fine with boring. At least until this reunion thing came up. And he can’t make it.

Circle of friends start popping in and out. Asking, pushing for registration money and all. At first, I didn’t have it – the money. Then I found out that the party premise would be at another friend’s newly opened business premise where most people know how savage that person is at business. No compromise on cost. I plainly look at it as conflict of interest. That just completely throws me off the board.

However, these girls kept asking. I considered although I had been pacing all these things in my brain. Although I’m as normal and grounded as I can be, I always feel like I sit on a certain par in other people’s eyes. Like there’s a certain standard to it. From physical and the way I speak. There is an expectation.

So I look myself in the mirror. 13 kilos overweight. At 42, with still very bad complexion. Triad illness. Unkempt. Possible bad BO. Rundown face for not smiling for the last 42 years of it. Bad financial state. Still depend on my parents to run my children around. Out of shape and mildly depressed when people ask me out for Zumba Strong. I am embarrassed with myself. But yet, there it is. Still.

I have no achievements. No ambition other than the wants of being on the beach, own home, travel. Everything else seems sufficient. Like Meredith Grey. Just moving in being suffice if it makes any sense at all.

Perhaps, that was the bottom of it all. Put aside all excuses I have been giving about how everything will exhaust me. How everyone will expect some connection and having to repeat stories of my life, vice versa, to smile and pretend like I’m happy when I’d be so exhausted then. I need a safe refuge. Even the girls who say it, that I will be protected, don’t seem to be who I thought they would be.

Contradicting. My brain falls into waterfalls of self-doubt. In all kindness toward myself, I know I had done my best for myself, taking care of my own heart and finding out if my heart was really in to attend it, without a safe refuge. So I’ve let the dateline pass, therefore I won’t be attending the Jubilee Reunion.

Not attending would be, a gift, for me.

Note: With no intention whatsoever, I will not be running through this blog before posting. Just because I want to surprise myself with whatever that I let write from these fingers on the keyboard.

I have no title for this

Ed Sheeren is slowly singing at me about loving me even at 73. My eyes are falling tired even though I am fresh in the office. Not willing to pick up my face to face M. I just can’t deal with her; won’t deal anymore.

She has been through this ordeal in January. Then it was medical leave after another, it became 2 months. You can’t expect me to be emotionally available when after all, I have said what I needed to say months before that. So when things started happening, you have to learn to pick your pieces up by yourself. I just… can’t. I need to save that little for me. And I know I need it more than you do.

Of all the people, Pink talks more sense to me. I need to reconnect myself. I’m all over the place.

So in this private space, I am now on metformin. Based on my HPA1C test, I have a Type 2 Diabetes. I also have PCOS, hypertension with 3 episodes of TIA. Have been getting boils and as at last Thursday, a bubble of something at the edge of my inner thigh/buttock with no sign of it shrinking or having a point to categorize it as a boil.

The doctor tells me I need to get to a gynae if there is no improvement or if it causes me pain. It could be a cyst. That was also when she explained that I needed to get on metformin because the lack of insulin is making my skin break so that is why I have been getting boils for the last few months.

DH doesn’t know about the added medication.

I feel like crap.

Get me a corner for me to cry please.

So, yes, really M. I’ve moved on. I am not wiling to be there for you when you self-sympathize yourself on things that you should have done. Because I need to get hold of whatever that I have for me. That would be the most unselfish thing I can do for myself.

54c57b00d9489a9fa6c0b7b740a15c58

Now I need cigaretts.

Silent struggle

6 more days before payout. Obvious enough how we live paycheck to paycheck. When people assume you are doing well but you’re not. You struggle but you don’t even show yourself that you are. Silently just drawing out breathe out.

The only reward to yourself is finally getting a good night sleep. And all the things that money can’t buy.

For the life and love for this INFJ. 

Strength is not an easy thing to achieve. But you have to work on it. It takes effort. Then, it would take time. However, you fall back on effort; because you don’t have the fire to burn it for yourself. Every so often also you will self-sabotage causing further unnecessary pain. So you wallow, feel the lack of love and start to eat anything and everything that comes in your way. You do know you have yourself to blame. Until it gets to the time you know you deserve to feel happy.

It falls flat. This new realisation comes when daily life is so busy that you have no time to think for yourself; having to make quick, clever decisions and get done to get on with something else. Yes, it will be loathed. There will be a lot of cursing and telling as well as reminding yourself and everyone else about their stupidity as it goes. But you, get through the day. You, would have achieved something. You, would in the end feel purposeful and done good.

Papers strewn all over. Workstation is acceptable clean and organised but not at the standard of national clean and tidy or normalcy. But they are workable. 3 types of 3 things that reminds you of who you are and allow a glimmer of smile at the edge of you heart on mundane days. You always know there is something you can settle. Even that can of soda that has been sitting on the workstation for over a year has meaning, just because it’s more soothing to look at than to drink it because it will finish and become trash.

There are also days you need to write first before you can work. Eat first, read the news and gossip first, coffee first… those are you little factors.

Happiness, picked up in tiny spaces, little things. Kisses on the forehead, rubbing nose with the cat, purple lipstick, olive green eyeliner, the colour of fabric hanging on the liners. Little things. Little things matter. You matter. It will rain, there will be sunshine and flowers. There will be a rainbow. Hang in there. You know you love yourself, only sometimes you forget how, and how to get back into the cycle. But you know you really do love yourself. Never compromise of how important you are, especially with yourself.

y

The Daily Prompt: RestartAbove | Messy | Fabric | Typical | Branch | Fact | Uncompromising

 

A heart of the unhappy.

superthumb

If only I can say the same to myself.

How my pain is someone else’s strength. I advocate life and self-love, but deny it onto myself. Am I a robot? It feels like it sometimes. I just want to feel appreciation that is something I must do for myself. So hard. So harsh of a reality. For how long more?

But this is alas, a heart of the unhappy.

The Daily Prompt: Dim

This constant struggle, is ugly.

In all fogginess I have lost myself. Little struggles. Refusal to be blindsided so I chose to stop looking. The difference in me treading along now is it is easier now than it was before. Letting go is easier. But I owe you an apology for being so…

I know my entries has been sporadically too high or too low. Each time I tell myself I have mental health issues, I realize that I am just an unhappy INFJ. And this unhappiness is common. I try not to wonder why but it helps to realign me back into some kind of perspective after re-realizing unhappy INFJ. Not just a figment of my own imagination.

So yesterday morning, I had this sudden this tap water flowing cry out of no apparent reason. They just kept coming and coming. In the office. Breakdown. Tissues encrusted all over me. It was sobbing cry, close to being to the ugly cry. I was missing friends. And after months of silence, I lunched with the beautiful Ms Brown.

“I think I’m sad. I’ve been sad for a looong time,” I said as my eyes glazed over the restaurant window.

She looked onto me, just pouring with emotion. Momentarily shaking her head. “But you can’t live it unhappy. You shouldn’t have to go through the same thing again. You deserve good.”

Yes, Ms Brown. You are right. My astral movements has been off the charts. You are asking me to go through the exercises I asked you to do when you were going through your rough patch. You are also making me yearn for savoury food and a whole lot of chicken requirement in my diet. And smoked salmon.

Just one step at a time. I will congregate with the rest of the human race and sort myself out again. Even when my own imagination can’t put myself there.

This wallowing is comforting. Yes, I know it’s bad for me. Such fear to find the courage again. To be okay without having the need for validation. Fearsome.

wpid-9b501060fb51409ce490f7f96b2226e4

 

The Daily Prompt: Courage | Compromise | Constant | Encrusted |Conversant | Astral | Congregate | Imagination