Quick takes as hell approaches

I’ve never been a big fan of weddings, but I like them even less when I’m trying to avoid key figures in the wedding. My brother is getting married, and I do want to be there for it. I have no ire towards my brother and sister. But obviously my parents will be there.

• I had a panic attack on Monday. I haven’t had one of those in 9–12 months? I had to leave work. It was awful. I considered not going to the wedding, and while that relieved my anxiety, it made me sad. Very, very sad. So I had to choose my poison. Anxiety it was. So I started mitigating stressors as much as I could.
• One of those stressors was the outfit I was wearing. The dress is “formal.” I hate formal dress. I hate dresses. That leaves me nice pants. Nice pants that I really have to work with to get them to the right level of formal. Or if I want to drop $500+ on a tailored pantsuit I will never wear again. I also hate exposing a lot of skin, or wearing anything very tight, and that fucks with “formal” for women too. All this is assuming I’m going to wear something that’s in fashion, of course. My short-term solution was just to say, “Fuck the outfit, I’ll wear whatever,” just to eliminate the stressor, but eventually I found something that is good and is only costing me $45 extra (on top of what I’d already paid for this outfit so far).
• You know in those movies where someone is dying and then they choose to die early because they don’t want to experience the dying process? Or someone is saying goodbye to someone else and they choose to do it in a certain way? In both of those occasions sometimes it is said, “I want always to remember you just like this.” That’s how I feel about my dad. I want always to remember him as the cheating, lying, miserable scum. And the wedding will fuck that up somehow, I’m sure. He’ll look happy, for instance. It’s a real shame. … It was nice while it lasted, I guess.
• I have been a mess for the last 3 weeks or so. At first I became very afraid of ghosts. That’s a sign of depression/anxiety. I’m literally just afraid of being afraid, because ghosts don’t exist. I’ve experienced that before. I moved past that, and just went on to having shitty dreams. Dreams where I couldn’t get to a wedding in time, or where men with knives were chasing me, slashing my car tires and breaking through the car windows. And this week I’m just anxious, the end. No more couching it in fantasies and dreams. The wedding is in two sleeps, so now I’m kind of manic anxious. I’m so ready for this to be over with. After this, there’s no reason I have to see any of them again. I can skip funerals… I don’t care about that. The only exception I might make is if my sister gets married again.
• I’m trying to ease up on the klonopin, since I’ve been taking a lot of it lately. Today, for instance, I’m trying to do without.
• And so of course today I’m thinking about the way my mom would react whenever anything homosexual would come on TV or movies. She would be so disgusted by it. She’d huff, or say it was wicked, or say “the homosexual agenda” in a condemning way. I always hated when she did that, and I didn’t really know why, but now I do. And isn’t that just the worst? Raising a child, forming their whole initial self-image, and repeatedly saying they’re disgusting to you. If I could press a button and condemn her to experience that hell, I would. She is evil, to me. She deserves pain.
• It’s not just my family I’m not looking forward to… I haven’t seen most of the Houston crowd since I’ve come out, and realistically probably 80% of them think it’s deviant, and so there’s that.
• I’m looking forward to the 2 days I’ve taken off work after this weekend, so I can just eat whatever I want and recover mentally.
• I’m also looking forward to being able to write again. That gift has utterly left me in the last 3 weeks.