Friday. Today is the day of the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games in Paris. I wish I was there, obviously. Alas, I am not. I am here, alone in my apartment, walking myself through the epic meltdown I had this week. It’s… a very real struggle I’m having. I don’t know what the solution is.

So, I had a system where I was tracking my cycle in order to “predict” the epic meltdowns in question. Most of the time, they happen a few days before my moon appears. There are exceptions, of course, but I’ve learned that I can definitely predict the general timeframe when these meltdowns will happen so I can give myself extra space and time for self-care. That way the meltdowns don’t affect anyone else. These meltdowns don’t have anything to do with anyone else, usually, but people like to take them personally for whatever reason. No idea why. It’s not about you or your feelings. It’s about the fact that I’m struggling and you’re standing there staring at me like an idiot instead of trying to help, then insulting and blaming me for something I couldn’t control.

Anyway, so if you are a woman, you’ve probably already guessed that my trip halfway across the world majorly disrupted my cycle. I had no way to predict when it was going to start again. I wasn’t paying attention, had the meltdown, and ended up binge drinking to sooth myself because I literally couldn’t calm down. It’s like… it’s an explosion gets bigger and bigger and bigger as it goes on. If you think it’s hard to deal with being on the outside, you should try actually being the human shell trying to contain the explosion from getting worse.

I tried everything. I tried eating, I tried yoga, I tried reaching out to my non-existent support system (aka my family) which obviously didn’t go well because my family fucking SUCKS, I tried tea and ashwaghanda and going for a walk and a bubble bath and turning off the computer and literally everything I could think of. Nothing worked. Nothing ever works. The meltdowns will happen and they will destroy everything in their path.

This time the victim of the meltdown was my blossoming yoga teaching career. Yep, that’s pretty much over now. Nobody wants to take a yoga class from a monster whose emotions have the intensity of a Category 5 hurricane. It’s no one else’s fault. I basically just quit before I even really got started because I just can’t do it. I tried teaching my mock class at USD and I felt SO fucking uncomfortable in my body. I really did not enjoy getting up in front of a group of people and trying to teach a sun salutation. It was a miserable, anxiety-inducing experience. I just wanted it to be over. Probably not a good sign. So, as per usual, I decided to just quit while I was ahead and stop wasting everyone else’s time. Nothing is going to fix me. Nothing is going to make these meltdowns stop. I have no control over my emotions. Nobody wants to be around people like that. So, once again, I’m out in the cold with nothing.

But at least I got to go to India, which is awesome. I don’t regret going there or doing the YTTC or anything like that. It jut made me realize yoga is my safe space. It’s part of my mental healthcare routine and my spiritual practice. It’s not just a workout for me. It’s never going to be just a workout for me. And, honestly, I have no idea how to communicate that to a bunch of people who only showed up looking for a workout. I guess I’m not the one! So, like, whatever. I feel like I knew that when I was in India, but I thought I’d give it the old college try once I got back. It didn’t work out, just like everything else I do. That’s my life. One failure after another. So, again, like, whatever.

I think the most frustrating part was the lack of support. I live with my brother so I asked him repeatedly to help me out. I asked him to practice with me. He looked me in the eye, said sure, then closed the door and never came out. I asked him to show up for my mock class because I needed the support. Once again, he looked me directly in the eye, said he would be there, then shut the door, and never showed up. When I confronted him, he immediately gaslighted me and tried to say I “never told him” when the class was, even though I talked about it constantly every day for two weeks and asked him every day to come do yoga with me so I could have practice. Then he tried making a bunch of bullshit excuses, all of which I called out. Then he started yelling at me and saying it’s all my fault and I’m the problem and basically doing DARVO so he wouldn’t have to take any responsibility for lying to my face and blowing me off.

This is what triggered the meltdown. I’m so fucking tired of every single goddamn person in my life invalidating my emotions and stomping all over my boundaries and basically fucking lying right to my face about doing things that they have no intention of doing. Yet, somehow all of this is my fault because I’m this and that and such a horrible, awful, evil person that I clearly don’t deserve any kind of emotional support. My family has been treating me like this for as long as I can remember. The more research I do on therapy, the more I realize I’m not wrong for asking for help and support from the people who are supposed to love me and care about me. They are wrong because they yell and scream and insult me instead of offering that support. They are so toxic. I finally realized I’m never going to get better as long as my family is in the picture. Nothing is ever going to change. I am the Scapegoat here. As long as they can point at me and use my meltdowns against me and paint me as the problem, they never have to change. They get to be as toxic and abusive as they want without consequence, so why stop?

I think the thing that really pisses me off is how much I’ve actually done to support my brother, yet I ask him one time to show up for me and he just blows it off like it’s not important. I literally saved him from homelessness and he is so fucking selfish that hew can’t even help me one time. It’s so disgusting and unfair. I’m so tired of being treated like garbage when I have done so much to help him. This is yet another reason why I don’t trust therapists. He allegedly goes to see one, yet he never changes. He doesn’t see his lack of ability to communicate as a problem. He just goes in there and rants about how shitty I am without ever looking inward. I’m so over it. How are some of these professional therapy people even getting paid right now? What do they even do? I just don’t get it. Everyone acts like therapy is some miracle solution, but I’ve never seen it work for anyone in my family. I guess we are just too fucked up. Best to get as far away from them as humanly possible. Maybe then I’ll have a real, fighting chance.

So now, after I post this, there will be some obnoxious little comment waiting for me ranting about my “choices.” Yeah, so, I don’t know how that’s relevant here, to be honest. I can’t choose to not have a meltdown. If I could make that choice, I would make that choice. But I have no control over it. These meltdowns will happen no matter what I do, so all I can do is prepare myself by fully isolating myself. I’m sorry you are incapable of understanding that. It doesn’t seem like you are someone anyone should be taking advice from, which is probably why you’re leaving dumb, obnoxious, insulting comments anonymously on someone else’s blog like the feckless troll you are. Good luck with that, bro.

Anyway, I just went in one big circle. I still have no job. I still have no support. I still have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I still don’t have family or friends. I still have nothing but a closet full of a clothes I struggle to fold. Lovely. Wonderful. Love this for me.

Anyway, that was kinda funny. Hahahahahaha, I actually thought I could be a yoga teacher. Hahahahahahaha. Me, a person who struggles with major dissociative episodes where I don’t feel like I’m even in my body, a yoga teacher. Bahahahahahahaha. Hahahahahahaha. Hilarious.

Yeah, no, it’s not for me, at least right now. I am too inwardly focused when doing yoga to worry about what’s going on with anyone else in the room. I don’t give a shit if anyone else is stretching their hamstring correctly. I’m just trying to get through the day without having an episode or a meltdown or whatever. I can’t think about how anyone else is feeling. I don’t want to walk into a room and look around at a bunch of strangers and try to figure out how to adjust myself to fit their needs. I already do that all the time and it’s so stressful. Like, how can I fake a personality so this person won’t take away my job and healthcare and leave me trapped in my abusive family home environment again? Oh, right, I can’t. The mask never stays on very long. Soon it will just be the same as it always is. It is what it is.

Back to square one, I guess. I hate my life so much. I feel like I’m never, ever going to dig my way out of the pit I’ve fallen into. Every plan I make to change my life ends in a spectacular, flaming failure. It is what it is.

I can’t think about this anymore today. I’ll think about it tomorrow. For now, I’m going to watch the Olympics coverage on Al Jazeera, then the opening ceremony. So, same thing I do every day: watch TV to escape from the fact that I am a monster who wants to change but can’t make it happen. Hurray.

Have a good one.