Being Normal

While many people say that there is no “normal,” I’d wager that most of the people who say that have never experienced what it is like to be completely and utterly abnormal.  Can there be an abnormal when there is no “standard” definition of normal?  If you happen to look up “normal” on webster, there’s a pretty large amount of definitions, for this thing that doesn’t exist.  One of them even states “free from mental disorder.”  Heh.  Others include things such as being of average intelligence or development, conforming to some sort of type or standard, et cetera.  Some people pride themselves on not being “normal.”  I, on the other hand, would give anything to at least have some semblance of normalcy being attributed to me.  I’m not a normal weight, or a normal height, so, even physically I don’t fit the “norm.”  I really care less about that than the other things, though.

Is it normal to sleep for either fourteen hours or fourteen minutes every night?  (And by “night” I mean anywhere from 1-5am until whenever it is during the day that I wake?)  Is it normal to hide dishes so they don’t make me feel shame for not washing them, or hide the vacuum cleaner?  Is it normal to avoid friends’ calls for so long that most of them simply give up?  Is it normal to not remember large portions of some days, due to one of my people being out, over something that can be as trivial as watching something sad on youtube, or, even worse, because one of them wants to eat what I was preparing?  Is it normal to sit in a chair, all day (when not lying in bed), and only get up out of it to use the bathroom, or feed my dogs or myself?  Is it normal to be able to muster the motivation to leave my house to get cigarettes, but not food?  Is it normal to have a panic attack in the middle of Rite-Aid because some person is in the same aisle as me?  Is it normal to have another panic attack at the mere idea of a birthday party for one of my nephews or nieces?  Or at the thought of having someone come here to fix the dryer?  OR at the thought of, well, absolutely NOTHING?!  Is it normal to realize that all of this is wrong, that all of this needs to be fixed, yet do absolutely nothing about it?  Well; I can’t say that I’ve done nothing… after being without any sort of “professional” help since my old shrink lost her license, I took the plunge, went to an “assessment” appointment, and now have two new appointments, which I am already doubting my ability to follow through on.  Is it normal to continuously cancel appointments, and make excuses simply because the thought of getting up, showering, putting clothes on, and driving there, never mind the appointment itself, is simply too damn daunting for me?

Is it too much to ask to want to, perhaps, get a little enjoyment out of life?  To actually want to see and talk with friends and family?  To walk my dogs, play with them, maybe even take some classes again?  To read books?  To go back to school for my Master’s, or even further?  To be able to work again?  Hell, to do the damn dishes and clean the house?  To make appointments earlier than 1pm and actually be able to get motivated and get there, on time?

I will tell myself,”Okay… today, I will do X, Y, and Z.”  I may even make a list (this is a big step).  Then, nothing happens.  It’s as though my brain and body literally cannot cooperate for even the simplest of things.  Once in a blue moon, I will get this little spark of motivation, and pounce on it like a gecko on a cricket.  I’ll make calls, I’ll clean, I’ll maybe even go grocery shopping.  Then, just as fast as a dog cleans his bowl, it’s gone, and I’m exhausted… which is how I feel most of the time anyway.  Although, at those times, I feel a bit more “normal.”  I long for the days when I could hop out of bed, get all clean and purty-fied, put in a full eight hours of work, come home, walk the dogs, clean the house, cook dinner, read, do homework, talk to a couple friends or family members… you know, things that “normal” people do.

I think that “normal” is different for everyone, but most everyone would likely agree that my semblance of “life” right now isn’t normal.  I can’t even write an amusing post; it’s as though “this” is all I can even write about.  Well, I suppose it’s “something” to even be writing, but I’d much rather write about, well, something people might actually want to read.  I want my life back, before THIS becomes my “norm,” if it hasn’t already…

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About Whimsical Scribe

I'm a writer at heart, but not by trade (yet anyway). I graduated from college in 2002 with a double Bachelor's degree in both English (creative writing concentration) and Psychology. Both are fairly useless majors in the job market today, unless you further them, which is what I have started to do and one day hope to have the finances/wellness to continue. Sadly, I have not been inclined to do much writing at all, of late, which is why I decided to start this blog. I live in a very rural area in the Northeast USA. I am the owner of three fantastic canines, an animal welfare advocate, vegetarian, environmentalist, and progressive thinker. I support the Ian Somerhalder Foundation, the Animal Rescue Site, and hope one day to become a doggy foster parent again, along with becoming a writer at some point in the near future. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, and also struggle with major depression and anxiety, and have for most of my life. PTSD is something I also live with. I am hoping that talking about/blogging about these things will be a help, both to me, and to others as well. Sometimes, one of my people may blog something as well, so not all views presented in this blog may be "mine" so to speak.
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One Response to Being Normal

  1. Pingback: Being Normal | mercurialscribes

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