Caught singing

I can drive well. I can sing well. I can sing while driving well. Today I was driving with the windows down and Cecilia and the Satellite blasting from the radio. I came to a stoplight while singing the chorus in a tenor range, and I randomly looked to the left. In the adjacent car sat an older lady, and the her window was slightly lowered. She was smiling at me, having heard me. I grinned at her and looked away, not singing any further. Kind of embarrassing, but it was the kind of embarrassment that you immediately take lightly. So I kept smiling a little.

The lady lowered her window. She said to me that I sounded good. I looked to her with another smile and thanked her. Then I looked forward, continuing to smile. This time I wasn't embarrassed, and my smile felt more genuine and full to me. It made me pretty happy that this stranger had randomly encouraged me like that.

Somebody ended up hearing me, so I guess even singing to myself is communication. The exchange of glances and grins was funny, and receiving her compliment was pleasant. Communication is just a wonderful thing, even in the smallest bits, especially as it builds up like that.

Easily frustrated

I came to a point where I easily accepted that nobody could fully understand me. I accepted that people can say the wrong things. I shrugged off that some people refuse to listen.

Now, I'm hypersensitive about it. When I try to explain something and they just don't get it, I panic because I feel like I can never say what I mean. When they respond with all the wrong things, it's hard not to feel like they're attacking me. When they don't listen, I try to repeat what I said a few times. Then I turn around, sit down, and simply feel upset... if not physically, then at least in my mind.

This isn't just how I am about talking about my depression. My little brother suggested yesterday that, since I was hungry right before we left to the bay, I grab a donut. I yelled at him (partly because I was in another room), why would I eat something so unhealthy when I'm at the lowest weight that I've been in years!? I ended up eating a cream-filled sweetbread. I got frustrated too easily over a stupid little suggestion. I think that one example is enough.

Sometimes, I'm still apathetic. My grandpa gets frustrated that I'm texting my suicidal friend when I don't have a moment of respite on the job. I don't give a shit. I tried to explain my situation to him, and he still can't get off the fact that I'm texting. He even refused to answer whether or not he cared about my friend. Knowing that he cares more about a minute of work than for the life of my friend did make me extremely sad. It made me cry a little behind his back... I mentioned that previously. I'm not sure that was frustration as much as a horrible realization that brought those tears.

When they don't listen, I ramble on until I lose hope. So, it's a good sign when a message goes up here.