I don't know why, but I've been feeling like shit for the last couple of days. Part of it might be that I've been working a whole bunch of overtime recently (unwillingly), but... tonight was just weird. I once again felt that sense of disconnection with people, with life, and I've been crying on and off all day today. It reminds me of the old days when the depression took over.
There could be a lot of reasons for it, of course; it's getting close to a certain time of the month (oh, shut up, whiners, and deal), it's been raining the last couple of days and therefore kind of miserable out... the holidays have finally arrived and I'm feeling pressure, my finances are getting kind of bad because of all of the expense, I've been working a lot, Greg's been working a lot... it could be any or all of those things. Tonight, Greg and I had a few awkward moments... I can't really call it a fight, because it wasn't, but... things were not as they usually are and I could feel it in the air. It bothered me. It scared me.
I'm trying so hard not to be pessimistic, but it just seems to be my second nature now, no matter how hard I try to look on "the bright side" of things. I've been screwed over, fucked with, made fun of too much to be any other way. I keep waiting for that shoe to fall. I'm trying not to... but I can't help myself. :(
I felt bothered enough to go looking up old "enemies", if you will. And things haven't changed. I'm still angry with them. I still want to take a chunk out of their heads. It's still the same stupid toxicity, years later. I can't ever allow myself to think it'll be any different. Why do I seek it out still? Is it something within me that won't let go? What is it that I want to hear from these people - "I'm sorry"? Heh... sorry lies between the words shit and syphilis in a dictionary. What difference will it make, hearing it now?
In one particular person's case, I guess I feel cheated of the chance to rip her fucking head off and shove it down the stem of her neck. That's what I really want to do - write her (or better yet, tell it to her face) a big "fuck you, bitch" note. There's something that she did that I cannot and will not ever forgive her for - even though the original situation is long over and I don't really care about it anymore, the fact that she fucked me over while it was happening.... well, that's enough right there for her to earn a permanent place on the shit list.
Actually, I'm mad at a couple of people from that time period, one of whom I couldn't get mad at before. So.... I guess that's progress, in a way.
I wish I could blank out the last six years - the last thirty years, really - and start over again.... sigh.
Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. I don't know.
Showing posts with label afraid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label afraid. Show all posts
22 November 2011
24 October 2011
Big, fat deal.
So Greg and I went down to Kings Dominion this weekend for an event with some of our new friend circle. I'll admit that while I had quite a blast (and him as well, I think)... I'm starting to realize that in a lot of ways, I'm starting to get old - or at least set in my ways. I just wasn't that eager to get on rides and be flipped upside down, feel G-forces making my heart race, any of that. The few that I did get on were sedate, quiet, even boring.
I'll also make a confession here - I just wasn't willing to be squeezed into a ride, either. Let's face it, people - while I can still get into a standard amusement park ride, I'm overweight (okay, fat, if you will) enough to not be too damned comfortable in them. And I'm sorry, folks - but that's a problem. I consider that a problem.
I spent half of the day wondering if I was going to be able to fit into the lap bars on the rides - and that's not a good feeling, ladies and gentlemen. Nor is it a good feeling to look around you and literally notice that you're the biggest person in line. Not necessarily in the park - but in line. Big difference. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I could feel peoples' eyes on me. "What's that big girl doing in the line? Does she think she can squeeze her fat ass into that seat? Bahahaha, that's a good one!"
I still can, yes, but that's not the point here.
The point is that it's gotten to a point where it's just not comfortable for me anymore to be what I am, physically. I'm suffering health problems, and I know it. It remains to be seen if the health problems I have are the cause of my weight, however - and we're investigating that. There's a damned good possibility that it really IS medical in nature. I know, I know, every overweight person claims that, but in my case it may be true. I've had a hormonal imbalance for years, decades, and it's run riot, completely unchecked. My OB is investigating that - that's why all of the nasty medical procedures recently.
If that's the cause of it - great. I'm looking forward to dropping a few pounds, trust me. If it's not... well, then, I know what my next step is.
As someone who's been overweight for most of her life, I will say this - don't ever believe that overweight is caused by too much eating and nothing else. It can be, sure, but it's often not the reason. Sometimes the reason is not eating enough.
Greg pointed out to me over the weekend that I don't eat nearly enough, which causes me to binge when I finally do get around to eating - and he's right. That's exactly what I do. I try to make up for all of the meals I should have eaten in one setting - then I'm sick for days and won't eat again. A vicious, severely unhealthy cycle.... that I'm going to try and break. If I can. I hope I can.
Some of this is psychological, I'm almost sure of that. Because of all of the abuse I've been through, both childhood and adulthood, I probably feel so unworthy that I don't eat at all - after all, I'm overweight, why should I stuff my face? Never mind that stuffing my face, in my case, equals fueling my body in order to survive.
Wow, tears. Lots of tears. I guess this is a frontier of my cracked mind that I haven't explored yet... but after all, it's such a huge (hah, hah) part of my psyche, damaged though it may be. I have to confront it eventually, and I guess that I'm far enough in my healing that it should be now. I'm just so afraid that I'll uncover shit I don't want to uncover, and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to handle that, if that's so.
Greg says that he loves me the way I am. He has no idea how much that means to me, because I've never felt like anyone ever did, that I've had to fundamentally change in order to be accepted and cared about. For once in my life... I don't feel like I have to be someone else.
And maybe that's the key to my finally losing weight... knowing that even if I don't drop a pound, an inch, if the scale never changes again... that I'm still loved.
I'll also make a confession here - I just wasn't willing to be squeezed into a ride, either. Let's face it, people - while I can still get into a standard amusement park ride, I'm overweight (okay, fat, if you will) enough to not be too damned comfortable in them. And I'm sorry, folks - but that's a problem. I consider that a problem.
I spent half of the day wondering if I was going to be able to fit into the lap bars on the rides - and that's not a good feeling, ladies and gentlemen. Nor is it a good feeling to look around you and literally notice that you're the biggest person in line. Not necessarily in the park - but in line. Big difference. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I could feel peoples' eyes on me. "What's that big girl doing in the line? Does she think she can squeeze her fat ass into that seat? Bahahaha, that's a good one!"
I still can, yes, but that's not the point here.
The point is that it's gotten to a point where it's just not comfortable for me anymore to be what I am, physically. I'm suffering health problems, and I know it. It remains to be seen if the health problems I have are the cause of my weight, however - and we're investigating that. There's a damned good possibility that it really IS medical in nature. I know, I know, every overweight person claims that, but in my case it may be true. I've had a hormonal imbalance for years, decades, and it's run riot, completely unchecked. My OB is investigating that - that's why all of the nasty medical procedures recently.
If that's the cause of it - great. I'm looking forward to dropping a few pounds, trust me. If it's not... well, then, I know what my next step is.
As someone who's been overweight for most of her life, I will say this - don't ever believe that overweight is caused by too much eating and nothing else. It can be, sure, but it's often not the reason. Sometimes the reason is not eating enough.
Greg pointed out to me over the weekend that I don't eat nearly enough, which causes me to binge when I finally do get around to eating - and he's right. That's exactly what I do. I try to make up for all of the meals I should have eaten in one setting - then I'm sick for days and won't eat again. A vicious, severely unhealthy cycle.... that I'm going to try and break. If I can. I hope I can.
Some of this is psychological, I'm almost sure of that. Because of all of the abuse I've been through, both childhood and adulthood, I probably feel so unworthy that I don't eat at all - after all, I'm overweight, why should I stuff my face? Never mind that stuffing my face, in my case, equals fueling my body in order to survive.
Wow, tears. Lots of tears. I guess this is a frontier of my cracked mind that I haven't explored yet... but after all, it's such a huge (hah, hah) part of my psyche, damaged though it may be. I have to confront it eventually, and I guess that I'm far enough in my healing that it should be now. I'm just so afraid that I'll uncover shit I don't want to uncover, and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to handle that, if that's so.
Greg says that he loves me the way I am. He has no idea how much that means to me, because I've never felt like anyone ever did, that I've had to fundamentally change in order to be accepted and cared about. For once in my life... I don't feel like I have to be someone else.
And maybe that's the key to my finally losing weight... knowing that even if I don't drop a pound, an inch, if the scale never changes again... that I'm still loved.
27 July 2011
I am my own person. No, really. I am.
Ever since I met Greg (two incredible months ago!), I've been a lot happier, which has been pretty obvious to all who know me. I've been receiving comments from all sources - personal, work, otherwise - that have told me that I'm beginning to smile again... that I seem more "alive", I guess, than I have in years.
I've worked incredibly hard over the last year to get myself back onto solid ground, to recover from my depression, to validate myself as someone worthy of existing, never mind living. To tell the truth, I would have been perfectly happy with just existence - seems that I've gotten more than I'd bargained for, heh.
Still, fear persists. I'm scared of my fragile recovery being blown to bits, and I refuse to lie about it. The ground underneath me is still quite shaky, though it's getting a bit firmer every day. I think that it's important for me to realize that I've done all that I have done myself - that no one's helped me along with this, that I'm responsible for my own happiness. A comment from my last post made me think about that, long and hard - am I happy because there's someone in my life now? Or can I be just as happy by myself, alone, the way I was going along? At the time, I'd said that having someone in my life was an addition to it, not that it became my life. I still find that to be my truth, I think.
The mistake that I've made in the past, in nearly all of my previous relationships/entanglements/something, is that I've made the other person "my life". Does that make sense? Instead of seeing them as a pleasant addition, an enhancement, I've enmeshed my own personality into theirs. Wrong, wrong, wrong move! It's okay to feel empathetic - it is NOT okay to absorb!
It's a shame that it's taken me nearly 40 years to learn better.
This relationship with Greg has been different in a lot of ways - hell, in nearly every way. Maybe it's because I'm now mature enough to know the difference, maybe it's because it's the first relationship I've had in a long time where the disparity between lifestyles wasn't such a yawning cavern, maybe it's because I'm finally ready to own my shit when I do something wrong. I don't know why, exactly. Perhaps I'm finally ready to yield a little control over to another person, because a relationship - a good one, anyway - is give and take. I've always been such a control freak in the past - if I wasn't in the driver's seat, I'd literally have a conniption and be unable to cope. I still have a lot of issues with that, with trusting, with relaxing and laying back and just letting things happen. But I'm getting better at it every day, just like I am in a lot of other ways.
Eventually, I'm going to be able to relax enough to talk about my other past relationships - to the point where I can finally cleanse wounds. I don't look forward to reliving the pain associated with that, but to finally putting it all where it belongs - in the past - I actually look forward to owning my mistakes, which sounds weird, but.... it's an essential portion of healing that I still have to do.
I am so ready for it. :)
In other quick news: it turns out that I'm not the only one in the neighborhood that's been broken into recently, and drug dealing has unfortunately started to pick up, as well. There's a community meeting about it on August 9th, which is unfortunately a Tuesday - but I may try and prepare a statement about my experience for the meeting. They say the Baltimore police department will be there. Wouldn't it be nice if they could get to the house faster than 2 hours next time? /sarcasm
Otherwise, life rolls along. I'm doing pretty well, all things considered.
I'm certainly a lot happier than I used to be. :)
Blog improvements may be coming soon. Might be time to get rid of all of this black. :D
More later.
I've worked incredibly hard over the last year to get myself back onto solid ground, to recover from my depression, to validate myself as someone worthy of existing, never mind living. To tell the truth, I would have been perfectly happy with just existence - seems that I've gotten more than I'd bargained for, heh.
Still, fear persists. I'm scared of my fragile recovery being blown to bits, and I refuse to lie about it. The ground underneath me is still quite shaky, though it's getting a bit firmer every day. I think that it's important for me to realize that I've done all that I have done myself - that no one's helped me along with this, that I'm responsible for my own happiness. A comment from my last post made me think about that, long and hard - am I happy because there's someone in my life now? Or can I be just as happy by myself, alone, the way I was going along? At the time, I'd said that having someone in my life was an addition to it, not that it became my life. I still find that to be my truth, I think.
The mistake that I've made in the past, in nearly all of my previous relationships/entanglements/something, is that I've made the other person "my life". Does that make sense? Instead of seeing them as a pleasant addition, an enhancement, I've enmeshed my own personality into theirs. Wrong, wrong, wrong move! It's okay to feel empathetic - it is NOT okay to absorb!
It's a shame that it's taken me nearly 40 years to learn better.
This relationship with Greg has been different in a lot of ways - hell, in nearly every way. Maybe it's because I'm now mature enough to know the difference, maybe it's because it's the first relationship I've had in a long time where the disparity between lifestyles wasn't such a yawning cavern, maybe it's because I'm finally ready to own my shit when I do something wrong. I don't know why, exactly. Perhaps I'm finally ready to yield a little control over to another person, because a relationship - a good one, anyway - is give and take. I've always been such a control freak in the past - if I wasn't in the driver's seat, I'd literally have a conniption and be unable to cope. I still have a lot of issues with that, with trusting, with relaxing and laying back and just letting things happen. But I'm getting better at it every day, just like I am in a lot of other ways.
Eventually, I'm going to be able to relax enough to talk about my other past relationships - to the point where I can finally cleanse wounds. I don't look forward to reliving the pain associated with that, but to finally putting it all where it belongs - in the past - I actually look forward to owning my mistakes, which sounds weird, but.... it's an essential portion of healing that I still have to do.
I am so ready for it. :)
In other quick news: it turns out that I'm not the only one in the neighborhood that's been broken into recently, and drug dealing has unfortunately started to pick up, as well. There's a community meeting about it on August 9th, which is unfortunately a Tuesday - but I may try and prepare a statement about my experience for the meeting. They say the Baltimore police department will be there. Wouldn't it be nice if they could get to the house faster than 2 hours next time? /sarcasm
Otherwise, life rolls along. I'm doing pretty well, all things considered.
I'm certainly a lot happier than I used to be. :)
Blog improvements may be coming soon. Might be time to get rid of all of this black. :D
More later.
30 May 2011
Struggling... but forging ahead.
I had been feeling better about things for the last couple of days, but I find myself turning melancholy once again. The situation last week has taken more of a toll on me than I ever dreamed... and it's frightening because I don't know that I'll ever really recover from it.
Part of my therapy session this week dealt with that loss, and intense discussion about it. I had never really talked with anyone about it before (maybe because the circumstances were such that I felt a little ashamed of it). After a good deal of explanation, including specifics of the situation, my doctor said something that resonated with me... it not only made me feel a little better, but it's given me hope.
He'd said to me, "You cannot blame yourself. You have the hope of a normal, healthy relationship. Once you deal with all of the pain that you've been subjected to... you have a chance of being happy with another person. The other person in your situation does not. The other person in your situation has very deep issues, issues that are brain-related. Speaking from a psychological point of view, this person is very sick. They will never get any better or have anything more than what they have right now - because their pattern keeps repeating, over and over. They will not ever have a successful, healthy relationship... but you will."
It was like a sledgehammer had slammed into my brain.
I try to hold on to my doctor's words. I really do. It's eased some of the still-intense pain that I feel. It gives me hope that one day, one day.... I'll find a person that I can relate to and that can relate to me.
I've met someone recently, through one of the myriad online dating sites. We seem to have a lot in common, but... he recently dropped a bombshell that he was "legally married, but hasn't seen her in years", blah blah. He's told me 4 days after meeting me, so perhaps he's on the up and up, but... I just feel like I can't trust him. I know that it's because of all of the shit I've been through. I know that. I'm still speaking with him, because after all - we're only friends. It's not went any further, and even if it did, it wouldn't happen right away, as he lives in Florida.
Why can't I meet someone that's decent, honest, and lives HERE, for Chrissake?
Ah, forgive me. I really should choose better music... I'm listening to a song that reminds me of ... well, the situation. Oddly, the lyrics sort of fit....
Babe, baby, baby, I'm gonna leave you
I said baby, you know I'm gonna leave you.
I'll leave you when the summertime,
Leave you when the summer comes a-rollin'
Leave you when the summer comes along.
Classic Led Zeppelin. I love it so. Only right now it's full of pain.
The overwhelming anxiety has finally disappeared. But I know I'm not the same. I don't laugh or smile anymore. My appetite has been reduced to nearly nothing (not that that's a bad thing, as I'm losing weight like crazy, heh). And even the smallest of triggers can reduce me to a sobbing ball of mush.
But I'll get over this. It's not my fault.... I'm normal. I'm normal. I have to hang on to those words... I'll recover and I'll be happy. Won't I?
I wonder sometimes.
Part of my therapy session this week dealt with that loss, and intense discussion about it. I had never really talked with anyone about it before (maybe because the circumstances were such that I felt a little ashamed of it). After a good deal of explanation, including specifics of the situation, my doctor said something that resonated with me... it not only made me feel a little better, but it's given me hope.
He'd said to me, "You cannot blame yourself. You have the hope of a normal, healthy relationship. Once you deal with all of the pain that you've been subjected to... you have a chance of being happy with another person. The other person in your situation does not. The other person in your situation has very deep issues, issues that are brain-related. Speaking from a psychological point of view, this person is very sick. They will never get any better or have anything more than what they have right now - because their pattern keeps repeating, over and over. They will not ever have a successful, healthy relationship... but you will."
It was like a sledgehammer had slammed into my brain.
I try to hold on to my doctor's words. I really do. It's eased some of the still-intense pain that I feel. It gives me hope that one day, one day.... I'll find a person that I can relate to and that can relate to me.
I've met someone recently, through one of the myriad online dating sites. We seem to have a lot in common, but... he recently dropped a bombshell that he was "legally married, but hasn't seen her in years", blah blah. He's told me 4 days after meeting me, so perhaps he's on the up and up, but... I just feel like I can't trust him. I know that it's because of all of the shit I've been through. I know that. I'm still speaking with him, because after all - we're only friends. It's not went any further, and even if it did, it wouldn't happen right away, as he lives in Florida.
Why can't I meet someone that's decent, honest, and lives HERE, for Chrissake?
Ah, forgive me. I really should choose better music... I'm listening to a song that reminds me of ... well, the situation. Oddly, the lyrics sort of fit....
Babe, baby, baby, I'm gonna leave you
I said baby, you know I'm gonna leave you.
I'll leave you when the summertime,
Leave you when the summer comes a-rollin'
Leave you when the summer comes along.
Classic Led Zeppelin. I love it so. Only right now it's full of pain.
The overwhelming anxiety has finally disappeared. But I know I'm not the same. I don't laugh or smile anymore. My appetite has been reduced to nearly nothing (not that that's a bad thing, as I'm losing weight like crazy, heh). And even the smallest of triggers can reduce me to a sobbing ball of mush.
But I'll get over this. It's not my fault.... I'm normal. I'm normal. I have to hang on to those words... I'll recover and I'll be happy. Won't I?
I wonder sometimes.
28 May 2011
It is over. I am free.
After a very rough week, I have calmed down considerably. Although I'm still very sad over what has occurred (and to make a long story short, I've pretty much ended a tie that I've had for a very long time, ever since I moved back to Maryland)... it is time.
I once read a phrase that fits this situation very nicely. And that is: people come into and out of our lives for a reason.
At first, I thought, "What utter crap." But then, I got to thinking about it. And it's true. Nothing is really meant to last forever, is it? If it were, people would live forever, my best friend at 4 years old would still be my best friend... and a love relationship would last forever.
Life doesn't work that way.
The fact is that people change. Lives change. We grow apart. And it's very hard to let someone go after you've grown to depend on them, enjoy their company, spend time with them, share your life with them. The fact is that after a while, pain starts to outweigh pleasure. In truth, the situation I refer to began to hurt a very, very long time ago. I just didn't have the courage to cut the cord.
Until today.
I am free-falling now.... but in some ways, it feels good to know that I will never be hurt again by this. That I've learned valuable lessons to take with me into the void, where the next person I meet will benefit from that knowledge.
I'm very scared of the future. After all, six years is a very long time. But... just to live, one takes a chance. Maybe I'll make it and maybe I won't.
But at least I know in which direction I'll land.
Forward. Home.
I once read a phrase that fits this situation very nicely. And that is: people come into and out of our lives for a reason.
At first, I thought, "What utter crap." But then, I got to thinking about it. And it's true. Nothing is really meant to last forever, is it? If it were, people would live forever, my best friend at 4 years old would still be my best friend... and a love relationship would last forever.
Life doesn't work that way.
The fact is that people change. Lives change. We grow apart. And it's very hard to let someone go after you've grown to depend on them, enjoy their company, spend time with them, share your life with them. The fact is that after a while, pain starts to outweigh pleasure. In truth, the situation I refer to began to hurt a very, very long time ago. I just didn't have the courage to cut the cord.
Until today.
I am free-falling now.... but in some ways, it feels good to know that I will never be hurt again by this. That I've learned valuable lessons to take with me into the void, where the next person I meet will benefit from that knowledge.
I'm very scared of the future. After all, six years is a very long time. But... just to live, one takes a chance. Maybe I'll make it and maybe I won't.
But at least I know in which direction I'll land.
Forward. Home.
26 May 2011
......
Several people have written me in the last few hours due to a rather cryptic Facebook status I put up earlier yesterday that simply said "bad, bad, bad, bad day".
First of all, rest assured that I'm as okay as I'm going to be. I'm not in danger, I'm not unable to function, and I'm eating, drinking, showering, living. So, no worries there. However... I'm currently dealing with a very personal, painful situation that has been a very long time in coming. It's culminated into ... I guess that one could say that I've reached the end of the rope, and I'm letting go.
For my own health and sanity, I must.
I never wanted things to come to this point, but it's now out of my hands. It's not under my control. And... what have I learned, boys and girls? I cannot control anything other than what I do.
Heh, that's become some kind of mantra for me, I think.
Healing will come, just like I've healed from other things. But I suspect that it'll be a long, long time before I can say that it no longer affects me.
It is now 5:15 in the morning, here, and it's dark and quiet outside. It resembles how I feel right now... dark, but quiet. I'm just going to be, for a while. Simply be still. I don't have to decide anything today. I don't have to do anything but simply be.
The death of a dream is always hard. But new dreams will come. I have to believe that. I have to, if I want to survive.
Thanks to a certain couple of people out here for listening to me... and for not judging me, or thinking that I'm pathetic. It gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I'll see my way through and out of this.
In the meantime.... breathe. Just breathe. And be.
First of all, rest assured that I'm as okay as I'm going to be. I'm not in danger, I'm not unable to function, and I'm eating, drinking, showering, living. So, no worries there. However... I'm currently dealing with a very personal, painful situation that has been a very long time in coming. It's culminated into ... I guess that one could say that I've reached the end of the rope, and I'm letting go.
For my own health and sanity, I must.
I never wanted things to come to this point, but it's now out of my hands. It's not under my control. And... what have I learned, boys and girls? I cannot control anything other than what I do.
Heh, that's become some kind of mantra for me, I think.
Healing will come, just like I've healed from other things. But I suspect that it'll be a long, long time before I can say that it no longer affects me.
It is now 5:15 in the morning, here, and it's dark and quiet outside. It resembles how I feel right now... dark, but quiet. I'm just going to be, for a while. Simply be still. I don't have to decide anything today. I don't have to do anything but simply be.
The death of a dream is always hard. But new dreams will come. I have to believe that. I have to, if I want to survive.
Thanks to a certain couple of people out here for listening to me... and for not judging me, or thinking that I'm pathetic. It gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I'll see my way through and out of this.
In the meantime.... breathe. Just breathe. And be.
06 May 2011
Attention, Baltimore thugs: you didn't break me. Sorry.
I have to work this quarter's Saturday shift tomorrow, so I ended up with today off, which was actually a bonus for me. It allowed me to get some things done that I might not have otherwise. A lot of the mess that was in the house before the break-in has been cleared away/fixed, and as a result, my anxiety levels have plummeted.
I've temporarily hung up a colorful tapestry over the damaged wall where the television was, and I actually like the look of it so much that I just may leave it there permanently. I'm reconsidering even replacing the TV at all, to be honest - it was indeed an idiot box, just hanging there, wasting a lot of my valuable time where I could have been doing other things. Like, say, cleaning. Or actually eating breakfast in the morning, fixing my hair to go to work, that sort of thing.
I'm aware that the last sentence in particular sounded really awful, but I can't lie - all of it is true. I'd neglect simple things like taking care of myself (by eating a necessary meal) or trying to make myself look at least a little better (fixing my hair) because I'd sit on my sofa and just stare into nothingness, trying to fool myself into believing that I needed that time just to "wake up". But it's bullshit, you know. I was awake. Just not... "there". Does that make sense?
It's not as if I ever really "watched" the damned thing, anyhow. It was background noise to try and blot out the fact that if I don't make sound in here, it's utterly silent and desolate. Or is it? It's only desolate if I choose it to be so.
The only thing that truly hurt, I think, was the loss of my computer equipment - partially because I'd just purchased it and it was like throwing 800 dollars out the window, but also because what little entertainment I do choose to watch, most of it is on my computer (be it in the form of movies or TV shows on DVD or something similar). Other than that - screw it, what do I care, the thugs can keep all that shit. Really!
I've changed over most of my accounts now, but there seems to be very little fallout from the break-in itself, which is good news. The two computers that they'd taken (yes, they managed to steal both my new one and the broken one, sheesh), I don't think they're going to get very far. The new one had a fingerprint recognition feature on it that makes trying to access it useless, and the broken one's battery was dead and they neglected to take the charger to fire it up. Dumbasses. Still, I canceled my accounts and set up new ones, just to be safe. It's a good thing that the broken one's battery WAS dead, because that one literally had nearly all of my financial information on it. Lesson learned - I'll never do THAT again. It's back to paper and pencil for me when it comes to my finances.
I've actually learned a LOT of lessons from this incident. I've been way too lax with my own security for a good portion of my life - perhaps because I had the false sense of feeling "invincible". After all, this has never happened to me before; why would I ever think about such things? It's been hit home to me that I do, indeed, need to think about it. I'm a single woman living alone in Baltimore City; while the area of town I live in isn't a "slum", it's on the edge of one where there's still a huge amount of drug activity and crime. I should have thought about this a long time ago. But it's not too late to start now, and I've done exactly that.
I had a security system installed this week, and I'm planning on installing security doors for both the front and back of the house. I'm also considering motion detectors for the backyard, the side of the house, and even bars on the back windows (though I really don't want to go that far - I don't want to feel as if I live in a prison - but it may be necessary). I've also changed some personal habits in that I now shut the blinds at all times unless I'm physically in the room, as well as leaving some lights on at night, and turning different ones on and off. And as soon as I can pick up the old desktop computer that my mother offered me, I'm going to begin scanning personal financial documents and shredding all of the old paper copies. The scans will go on a portable hard drive that will probably be locked up in a personal safe (that of course will be bolted to the floor to prevent anyone from taking THAT).
Too much, you say? Yeah, it might be. I may not go THIS far, but I do think that some of the above ideas are good ones. I have to work with one thing at a time, of course, because I'm facing down some pretty expensive stuff in the next few weeks. My credit card bill has already swelled past the comfort level because of having to replace the computer and get the alarm system installed. Sigh.
But if it means I'll be safe in my own house, so be it.
The one thing that keeps running through my mind, though, is that I'm thankful that I'm alive and that I didn't walk in on these assholes that did this. Because I live in a city where someone will shoot you in the head for a pair of 60 dollar Nike tennis shoes. And, yet, I still love my little house in the city. I still enjoy being here. No one with a drug addiction - or for that matter, any issue - is going to take that away from me.
I've taken my house back. Now I'm taking my life back.
I've temporarily hung up a colorful tapestry over the damaged wall where the television was, and I actually like the look of it so much that I just may leave it there permanently. I'm reconsidering even replacing the TV at all, to be honest - it was indeed an idiot box, just hanging there, wasting a lot of my valuable time where I could have been doing other things. Like, say, cleaning. Or actually eating breakfast in the morning, fixing my hair to go to work, that sort of thing.
I'm aware that the last sentence in particular sounded really awful, but I can't lie - all of it is true. I'd neglect simple things like taking care of myself (by eating a necessary meal) or trying to make myself look at least a little better (fixing my hair) because I'd sit on my sofa and just stare into nothingness, trying to fool myself into believing that I needed that time just to "wake up". But it's bullshit, you know. I was awake. Just not... "there". Does that make sense?
It's not as if I ever really "watched" the damned thing, anyhow. It was background noise to try and blot out the fact that if I don't make sound in here, it's utterly silent and desolate. Or is it? It's only desolate if I choose it to be so.
The only thing that truly hurt, I think, was the loss of my computer equipment - partially because I'd just purchased it and it was like throwing 800 dollars out the window, but also because what little entertainment I do choose to watch, most of it is on my computer (be it in the form of movies or TV shows on DVD or something similar). Other than that - screw it, what do I care, the thugs can keep all that shit. Really!
I've changed over most of my accounts now, but there seems to be very little fallout from the break-in itself, which is good news. The two computers that they'd taken (yes, they managed to steal both my new one and the broken one, sheesh), I don't think they're going to get very far. The new one had a fingerprint recognition feature on it that makes trying to access it useless, and the broken one's battery was dead and they neglected to take the charger to fire it up. Dumbasses. Still, I canceled my accounts and set up new ones, just to be safe. It's a good thing that the broken one's battery WAS dead, because that one literally had nearly all of my financial information on it. Lesson learned - I'll never do THAT again. It's back to paper and pencil for me when it comes to my finances.
I've actually learned a LOT of lessons from this incident. I've been way too lax with my own security for a good portion of my life - perhaps because I had the false sense of feeling "invincible". After all, this has never happened to me before; why would I ever think about such things? It's been hit home to me that I do, indeed, need to think about it. I'm a single woman living alone in Baltimore City; while the area of town I live in isn't a "slum", it's on the edge of one where there's still a huge amount of drug activity and crime. I should have thought about this a long time ago. But it's not too late to start now, and I've done exactly that.
I had a security system installed this week, and I'm planning on installing security doors for both the front and back of the house. I'm also considering motion detectors for the backyard, the side of the house, and even bars on the back windows (though I really don't want to go that far - I don't want to feel as if I live in a prison - but it may be necessary). I've also changed some personal habits in that I now shut the blinds at all times unless I'm physically in the room, as well as leaving some lights on at night, and turning different ones on and off. And as soon as I can pick up the old desktop computer that my mother offered me, I'm going to begin scanning personal financial documents and shredding all of the old paper copies. The scans will go on a portable hard drive that will probably be locked up in a personal safe (that of course will be bolted to the floor to prevent anyone from taking THAT).
Too much, you say? Yeah, it might be. I may not go THIS far, but I do think that some of the above ideas are good ones. I have to work with one thing at a time, of course, because I'm facing down some pretty expensive stuff in the next few weeks. My credit card bill has already swelled past the comfort level because of having to replace the computer and get the alarm system installed. Sigh.
But if it means I'll be safe in my own house, so be it.
The one thing that keeps running through my mind, though, is that I'm thankful that I'm alive and that I didn't walk in on these assholes that did this. Because I live in a city where someone will shoot you in the head for a pair of 60 dollar Nike tennis shoes. And, yet, I still love my little house in the city. I still enjoy being here. No one with a drug addiction - or for that matter, any issue - is going to take that away from me.
I've taken my house back. Now I'm taking my life back.
02 May 2011
I've been sorely tested as of late.
As most of you who keep up with my life in any way know by now, my house was broken into on Saturday night while I was out for a rare social event, and my television was stolen, along with a few choice electronic items (including the brand new computer that I'd just bought not even 30 days ago). To say that I feel violated doesn't even begin to cover it, and I've spent the last 48 hours contacting banks, credit card companies, and spending a country fortune replacing computers, electronic equipment, and installing a security system in this house - for I'll be damned if I ever let this happen again.
I've not been to work today, and won't be going tomorrow, either - I have to wait for the security people, as well as go to the banks and reopen accounts under new numbers, etc. A major hassle, and I have no idea of how I'll be able to pay my bills on time, which of course adds another layer of inconvenience.
However... this situation has taught me so very much. It's taught me that I can handle even a horrible event like this. And that I have so much more support and friendship than I ever dreamed I did. People have been calling me, asking after me, offering to help, leaving messages of support for me. In my darkest days of depression, I never would have believed that people cared about me.. and yet, the last 48 hours have taught me better. Even my family has stepped up to the plate for me in ways that I never believed possible.
It's comforted me. I feel afraid and violated... but also that much stronger.
A couple of thugs took my electronics. But in a way, they gave me insight and the realization that people really do love me.
In that, maybe I came out ahead after all.
I've not been to work today, and won't be going tomorrow, either - I have to wait for the security people, as well as go to the banks and reopen accounts under new numbers, etc. A major hassle, and I have no idea of how I'll be able to pay my bills on time, which of course adds another layer of inconvenience.
However... this situation has taught me so very much. It's taught me that I can handle even a horrible event like this. And that I have so much more support and friendship than I ever dreamed I did. People have been calling me, asking after me, offering to help, leaving messages of support for me. In my darkest days of depression, I never would have believed that people cared about me.. and yet, the last 48 hours have taught me better. Even my family has stepped up to the plate for me in ways that I never believed possible.
It's comforted me. I feel afraid and violated... but also that much stronger.
A couple of thugs took my electronics. But in a way, they gave me insight and the realization that people really do love me.
In that, maybe I came out ahead after all.
27 September 2010
Sinking into the abyss.
I should be doing my biology classwork tonight, but the truth of the matter is that I just don’t feel like dealing with it, or much of anything. It’s been a very rough couple of days for me, where my emotions have been up, down, back, forth, and Christ knows what else. Just another depressive episode, only it’s colored by the fact that I’ve discovered a few unpleasant things about myself – again.
I was abused as a child. This has been pretty much known to me for a while, but:
1. I did not know or realize the extent of the damage, which I have discovered via therapy is MASSIVE;
2. I am suffering from severe emotional abuse more than anything, which shocks me because I wasn’t aware that there was such a thing. Physical, sexual, mental, sure. But emotional abuse? Yet, that’s exactly what I suffer from, and it’s the worst of all of the four;
3. Just like all abusers, I myself have become emotionally abusive toward people that I’ve supposedly loved. This particular fact is the most difficult thing to grasp for me – I’ve turned into my parents, and it’s shocking and hurtful.
Now you know why I will never have children. Because the cycle of abuse would continue. And I would love my children enough to spare them that pain.
My therapist has recommended a book for me called “Born to Win”, which I’ve ordered, along with another book that I discovered on my own called “Healing Your Emotional Self” by Beverly Engel. It’s sort of a workbook, I guess. I read snippets of it on Amazon and immediately started crying, because that woman was describing ME.
I find that I’ve been crying a lot when I recognize my pain in other sources. It’s impossible to listen to either Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”, or “Wish You Were Here”, because they’re talking about me.
From “Us And Them”:
Black and blue
And who knows which is which and who is who.
Up and down.
But in the end it's only round and round.
And that’s how I feel. It’s all the same no matter what happens. I’m hurting and confused and scared. The more I do this therapy, the more afraid I feel. I seriously feel like I’m just too emotionally broken to heal. There is so much anger at so many people that I’ve suppressed, stuffed down, swallowed – how can I get it out? How can I safely get it out without alienating what precious little I have left?
That’s what truly frightens me. It’s the anger. It’s the incredible, all-consuming, furious anger that I feel at my parents, at myself, at my family, the people I know, once knew, might meet later that will inevitably hurt me. Just thinking about it makes my throat hurt because I’m trying to swallow down the tears that just come up, almost automatically.
What am I going to do? What is going to become of me?
Next to this, a biology assignment seems inconsequential.
14 July 2010
.....
Not really feeling much like writing, but I'm forcing myself to, if only to give myself a rope to hang onto while I'm feeling down. I'm seriously trying to hold on. A lot of things haven't been going right, but that's par for the course, or so it seems.
The 8k tax credit that I'm supposed to be getting? Well, the amended return has now, as of Monday, landed in the IRS's "examination unit" - which basically means audit. Great. I can more or less kiss that money goodbye, because they ALWAYS find something wrong. I haven't been dishonest in the least about my taxes - can't afford to be, I work for the gubmint, for fuck's sake - but they'll find something wrong and they'll take all of the tax credit, or a partial amount. I'll bet you eight thousand dollars, hah hah. (sour sigh)
I'm looking for therapy again. I can't deal with the feelings that I've been having as of late, and the attacks are starting to come again, now at an alarming rate. I could barely keep it together at work today. Not a good sign, just not good. I've found one place that might be able to work with my fucked-up hours, but they're religious in nature and I'm a little (no, make that a LOT) leery of it. Still.. what have I got to lose anymore? If it takes swallowing a bunch of crap rhetoric to make me whole again, I'll swallow it AND like it. I'm sick of this. I am sick of being sick, tired of being tired.
I'm also scheduling an appointment with my primary doctor to get a workup. I also think there's something (no, a lot of things) physically wrong with me. I don't know what else I can go through that's worse than what I already have been. Again - what have I got to lose?
We lost another lead tech today at work. That's the second one in 4 months. They're never going to get anyone to willingly fill that position, it's too much work and too little compensation. The ex-manager I had is now branch chief (a good thing) and we have a new manager, who's nice.. but never there. Basically right now we're lawless, and it's not boding well for any of us. I liked the last lead tech because she whipped these assholes into shape. Not now. She left today, and it was sad to see the smile on her face as she was sailing out the door. They gave her utter fucking hell and I'll be the first one to say it - they treated her like crap. It's no wonder she didn't want to stay. Now? God, it's going to be rough.
No developments on the Eye Candy front. I've actually been going out of my way to avoid him, to be honest, because he sees me at my worst and I don't even want to try to impress him. I don't care what he or anyone else thinks. Fuck 'em all.
Classes going okay, I guess. Like everything else, I've given up caring. I fail these? Fuck it, what's the difference, I owe a shit-ton of money now in school loans, so what difference does it make if I fail? It's another thousand on top of more thousands. It doesn't matter. I'll be fucking fifty years old before I get that degree anyway, the way things are going. What good will it do me then?
Sorry. It's a downbeat post. I don't care. I AM downbeat, depressed, sad, overwhelmingly lonely and damned close to feeling suicidal again. What's the difference? What does anything matter anymore?
I have no one to tell me that it's going to be all right. No one. And even if I did, I don't know that I could ever believe it....
God, help me survive this endless fucking darkness...
The 8k tax credit that I'm supposed to be getting? Well, the amended return has now, as of Monday, landed in the IRS's "examination unit" - which basically means audit. Great. I can more or less kiss that money goodbye, because they ALWAYS find something wrong. I haven't been dishonest in the least about my taxes - can't afford to be, I work for the gubmint, for fuck's sake - but they'll find something wrong and they'll take all of the tax credit, or a partial amount. I'll bet you eight thousand dollars, hah hah. (sour sigh)
I'm looking for therapy again. I can't deal with the feelings that I've been having as of late, and the attacks are starting to come again, now at an alarming rate. I could barely keep it together at work today. Not a good sign, just not good. I've found one place that might be able to work with my fucked-up hours, but they're religious in nature and I'm a little (no, make that a LOT) leery of it. Still.. what have I got to lose anymore? If it takes swallowing a bunch of crap rhetoric to make me whole again, I'll swallow it AND like it. I'm sick of this. I am sick of being sick, tired of being tired.
I'm also scheduling an appointment with my primary doctor to get a workup. I also think there's something (no, a lot of things) physically wrong with me. I don't know what else I can go through that's worse than what I already have been. Again - what have I got to lose?
We lost another lead tech today at work. That's the second one in 4 months. They're never going to get anyone to willingly fill that position, it's too much work and too little compensation. The ex-manager I had is now branch chief (a good thing) and we have a new manager, who's nice.. but never there. Basically right now we're lawless, and it's not boding well for any of us. I liked the last lead tech because she whipped these assholes into shape. Not now. She left today, and it was sad to see the smile on her face as she was sailing out the door. They gave her utter fucking hell and I'll be the first one to say it - they treated her like crap. It's no wonder she didn't want to stay. Now? God, it's going to be rough.
No developments on the Eye Candy front. I've actually been going out of my way to avoid him, to be honest, because he sees me at my worst and I don't even want to try to impress him. I don't care what he or anyone else thinks. Fuck 'em all.
Classes going okay, I guess. Like everything else, I've given up caring. I fail these? Fuck it, what's the difference, I owe a shit-ton of money now in school loans, so what difference does it make if I fail? It's another thousand on top of more thousands. It doesn't matter. I'll be fucking fifty years old before I get that degree anyway, the way things are going. What good will it do me then?
Sorry. It's a downbeat post. I don't care. I AM downbeat, depressed, sad, overwhelmingly lonely and damned close to feeling suicidal again. What's the difference? What does anything matter anymore?
I have no one to tell me that it's going to be all right. No one. And even if I did, I don't know that I could ever believe it....
God, help me survive this endless fucking darkness...
25 April 2010
And so, here's the beginning.
Today, I've made a very real stab at packing, sorting and cleaning my stuff for moving - again. As I'm working, I feel a very real sense of sadness that, once again, it's come to this and I have to pull up what little roots I've established. I try to comfort myself with the fact that this is what could amount to being the very last time I ever have to do this, but it doesn't blunt the sadness that I feel. It's compounded by some very real issues that I'm facing in that I feel like I'm losing the last bits of support that I had for the last few years, which have been very difficult, as you know if you've been reading here with any sort of regularity. I'm not too sure that I'm strong enough to deal with it, emotionally or mentally, but as usual, the choice has been taken away from me - I have no choice but to deal with it, as I've had to deal with everything else that has been painful to me over the years.
I was telling someone recently that it'll be very, very hard not to just isolate myself from everything and everyone once I'm settled - because I know myself well, it might be what will happen. It's yet another cycle where I attempt to make effort to be social - it works for a brief time - then crash and burn, and back to hiding from life for a few years, to "lick my wounds", if you will.
People just don't understand or "get" me, nor I them. They don't understand why I'm not more excited about this house thing, they don't understand why I'm not head-over-heels happy about my grades (I got an A in my information systems course, don't know about the others as of this writing), they don't understand why I'm not more happy about my promotion at work, etc. That's just it - I am happy, okay, but I'm not manic-excited over anything. I can't seem to summon up that much feeling. And maybe that's what's wrong with me. I just feel nothing other than fatalistic, to be honest. "Oh, really. That's great, thanks." Sort of like, I'll take whatever comes, be it good news or a slap in the face, with my fully expecting the latter reaction to happen.
I was thinking the other day about all of the bridges I've burned behind me, and all of the ones that are pretty much on fire now, as I'm transitioning out of my old life and into the unknown. I don't go backward in time anymore, or I try not to. I've learned well what happens when you try to live in the past. Besides, most of my memories are bad, even if I thought at one time they were a good thing... a good example of that is the days where I was running a bulletin board. I thought for a long time that this was a good period in my life, but... when I think of it now, I just want to forget that it ever happened, for some reason. I wasn't a good person back then, nor did I accomplish anything of value. And all of the people connected with that time... they don't evoke any bad memories for me but at the same time I kind of just shy away from them, because I don't know them anymore. They're people I once hung out with, but they're not truly in my life now, nor would I think they'd understand me if they were. I'm in a different place and time... hell, maybe I'm in a different world altogether. The point is that anyone who gets close to me had maybe best be prepared for what always seems to happen... they're going to get left behind, because that's just what it's always been. And it's not of my own choice. They either leave me, or life takes them away.
Anyway. This is starting to take a depressing turn, not that I haven't half felt that way all day, so I'd best end here. If you got this far, that's great, but as usual I've had nothing productive to say, it's just a bunch of fucking whining. Now that I'm good at.
Later.
I was telling someone recently that it'll be very, very hard not to just isolate myself from everything and everyone once I'm settled - because I know myself well, it might be what will happen. It's yet another cycle where I attempt to make effort to be social - it works for a brief time - then crash and burn, and back to hiding from life for a few years, to "lick my wounds", if you will.
People just don't understand or "get" me, nor I them. They don't understand why I'm not more excited about this house thing, they don't understand why I'm not head-over-heels happy about my grades (I got an A in my information systems course, don't know about the others as of this writing), they don't understand why I'm not more happy about my promotion at work, etc. That's just it - I am happy, okay, but I'm not manic-excited over anything. I can't seem to summon up that much feeling. And maybe that's what's wrong with me. I just feel nothing other than fatalistic, to be honest. "Oh, really. That's great, thanks." Sort of like, I'll take whatever comes, be it good news or a slap in the face, with my fully expecting the latter reaction to happen.
I was thinking the other day about all of the bridges I've burned behind me, and all of the ones that are pretty much on fire now, as I'm transitioning out of my old life and into the unknown. I don't go backward in time anymore, or I try not to. I've learned well what happens when you try to live in the past. Besides, most of my memories are bad, even if I thought at one time they were a good thing... a good example of that is the days where I was running a bulletin board. I thought for a long time that this was a good period in my life, but... when I think of it now, I just want to forget that it ever happened, for some reason. I wasn't a good person back then, nor did I accomplish anything of value. And all of the people connected with that time... they don't evoke any bad memories for me but at the same time I kind of just shy away from them, because I don't know them anymore. They're people I once hung out with, but they're not truly in my life now, nor would I think they'd understand me if they were. I'm in a different place and time... hell, maybe I'm in a different world altogether. The point is that anyone who gets close to me had maybe best be prepared for what always seems to happen... they're going to get left behind, because that's just what it's always been. And it's not of my own choice. They either leave me, or life takes them away.
Anyway. This is starting to take a depressing turn, not that I haven't half felt that way all day, so I'd best end here. If you got this far, that's great, but as usual I've had nothing productive to say, it's just a bunch of fucking whining. Now that I'm good at.
Later.
22 March 2010
Ugh, under so much stress.
The past couple of days have been hectic, what with looking at houses, haggling with mortgage brokers, endless phone calls... but I've found the house that I want. Unfortunately, I've found out that there'll be a steep price for it - so far the deal is, I spend 125k on it, and keep my payments JUST above 950 a month. Sigh. The thing is, that's how much I'd have to cough up for an apartment, anyway, so why not just do it. But I made it clear that I can't go above 950, there's no way in hell I can do it, so... if they want a quick sale, they've got it, if they agree to my terms. My RE agent seems to think they will. But as usual, the nay-sayer in me thinks not.
I knew going in that buying a house would be stressful. I did it once before, when I was married, and there was a fuckload of trouble when that was going on. The deal was held up for months over something about "easements", whatever the fuck that means - but it did end up happening, eventually. This is no different, and in truth I think it'll go a fuck of a lot quicker than the Still Road house did. But, still. It's just nerve-wracking.
This is sort of why I didn't want to do this now. But I'm actually surprised with how well I've held up throughout all of this. I did nearly have a crying spell when I found out about the 950 dollar payments, though. Thing is... I spend 50 dollars a week alone on coffee and breakfast and entertainment, etc. I can cut that out with no problem, it's money wasted really. 200 dollars a month, I can cover that extra bit, and I can always get a second job if things get really tight.
Where there's a will... well, you know the rest.
And the house is in Seton Hill, which has always been a really nice neighborhood. It's in move-in condition. The others I looked at were, quite frankly, either dumps or not suited to my needs for whatever reason. This one is perfect. I don't want to let it get away.
I give the RE guy a thousand dollars tonight as "good faith deposit" money. This is the start of it. I just hope that it finishes to my satisfaction.
Off to a work meeting now, but I'll definitely keep all posted.
I knew going in that buying a house would be stressful. I did it once before, when I was married, and there was a fuckload of trouble when that was going on. The deal was held up for months over something about "easements", whatever the fuck that means - but it did end up happening, eventually. This is no different, and in truth I think it'll go a fuck of a lot quicker than the Still Road house did. But, still. It's just nerve-wracking.
This is sort of why I didn't want to do this now. But I'm actually surprised with how well I've held up throughout all of this. I did nearly have a crying spell when I found out about the 950 dollar payments, though. Thing is... I spend 50 dollars a week alone on coffee and breakfast and entertainment, etc. I can cut that out with no problem, it's money wasted really. 200 dollars a month, I can cover that extra bit, and I can always get a second job if things get really tight.
Where there's a will... well, you know the rest.
And the house is in Seton Hill, which has always been a really nice neighborhood. It's in move-in condition. The others I looked at were, quite frankly, either dumps or not suited to my needs for whatever reason. This one is perfect. I don't want to let it get away.
I give the RE guy a thousand dollars tonight as "good faith deposit" money. This is the start of it. I just hope that it finishes to my satisfaction.
Off to a work meeting now, but I'll definitely keep all posted.
22 August 2009
My mood is as black as this background.
I don't know why I feel bad today. I was supposed to go out to Sandy Point today, but... I woke up feeling depressed and out-of-sorts, so I didn't bother. That's really my entire outlook right now.. why bother. I don't know what's going on with me, but I just feel so down. Like life has no meaning and nothing I do will make a difference...
Instead of going out today, I've spent most of the day crying in my room. I thought I was over this bullshit.. no doubt my lack of staying on my medications has finally hit me square in the face.
I don't care about anything today. If I were to get word that I failed my crim course (which I most likely did anyway), I'd be like... so what. I lived, ate and breathed this class for weeks, and now... who gives a rat's ass what happens. It's all futile.
I feel as low as you can go right now. Are the suicidal thoughts back? Honestly... they are. Oh, I won't do it.. but right now it sure seems like a good option to end this constant fucking pain I'm in.
I don't even feel comfortable bitching here anymore. Too many people read this thing now. Instead of having a safe place to get it out... now I feel like a stupid, whiny emo. I really do.
God, somebody help me. Please... :'(
Instead of going out today, I've spent most of the day crying in my room. I thought I was over this bullshit.. no doubt my lack of staying on my medications has finally hit me square in the face.
I don't care about anything today. If I were to get word that I failed my crim course (which I most likely did anyway), I'd be like... so what. I lived, ate and breathed this class for weeks, and now... who gives a rat's ass what happens. It's all futile.
I feel as low as you can go right now. Are the suicidal thoughts back? Honestly... they are. Oh, I won't do it.. but right now it sure seems like a good option to end this constant fucking pain I'm in.
I don't even feel comfortable bitching here anymore. Too many people read this thing now. Instead of having a safe place to get it out... now I feel like a stupid, whiny emo. I really do.
God, somebody help me. Please... :'(
11 July 2009
Reflections. (Guess I'm not quite done yet for today, heh.)
I've been thinking a lot lately about how I used to be. When the worst of the depression was haunting me, and in truth I find that I don't even remember anymore, the person that I used to be. This is probably, most likely, a good thing, because from the people who knew me then... they tell me that I was... well, not easy to live with is a kind term. A bitch, maybe is what they mean to say, heh. But.. I find that I remember very little of that time at all.
All that I can remember is that I know that all I wanted was to die. That I honestly felt the world closing in on me, choking me, suffocating me. Just to breathe was to hurt. It was a feeling that I cannot describe more than that.
I don't remember being able to work, or to get out of bed a lot of the time. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't think beyond making it a second, a minute at a time.
I do remember the mental hospital. I remember the ward. That was the beginning of waking up for me, but even that didn't fully snap me out of it. I was on drugs that I never should have been on, at the wrong dosages and at the wrong times. Paxil made me dead inside. I could function, but not at a level where I would care. The Buspirone helped greatly with the anxiety and took that away, but it wasn't until I got put on this combination that I'm on now... that I started to feel better.
And today?
I hesitate to say that I'm better, still. Because I've been here before, you know. I've been in a position where I thought I was okay, where I thought that the depression was gone... and the next day, week, month, I'd have an attack so crushing that I'd despair all over again. It's a rollercoaster, a cruel one.
But I do feel that I'm in a better place now. I'm able to handle situations now that would have had me in broken, screaming sobs even a year ago. This job in itself proves that I'm better, because how many people do you know that could deal with a thousand angry, just-as-depressed-as-you-are people a day? And not only deal with the job, but ride it to the point where you get a promotion barely a year later?
Yes. I think it's safe to say that I'm better now. But I still live in a world of fear that one of these days the drugs will stop working. That I'll go back to being in that glass box where I used to watch the world from outside, and yearn to be a part of it but couldn't be because the edges of that box were cutting into my throat. That's how I felt for a long, long time. Maybe for my whole life.
I'm reminded of the song "Blackbird" by the Beatles.
Ignore the video itself... but listen to the lyrics. That's so where I really am now in my life. I'm scared.. but I'm learning to live again. That's where I am.
Thanks for listening to me ramble.
All that I can remember is that I know that all I wanted was to die. That I honestly felt the world closing in on me, choking me, suffocating me. Just to breathe was to hurt. It was a feeling that I cannot describe more than that.
I don't remember being able to work, or to get out of bed a lot of the time. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't think beyond making it a second, a minute at a time.
I do remember the mental hospital. I remember the ward. That was the beginning of waking up for me, but even that didn't fully snap me out of it. I was on drugs that I never should have been on, at the wrong dosages and at the wrong times. Paxil made me dead inside. I could function, but not at a level where I would care. The Buspirone helped greatly with the anxiety and took that away, but it wasn't until I got put on this combination that I'm on now... that I started to feel better.
And today?
I hesitate to say that I'm better, still. Because I've been here before, you know. I've been in a position where I thought I was okay, where I thought that the depression was gone... and the next day, week, month, I'd have an attack so crushing that I'd despair all over again. It's a rollercoaster, a cruel one.
But I do feel that I'm in a better place now. I'm able to handle situations now that would have had me in broken, screaming sobs even a year ago. This job in itself proves that I'm better, because how many people do you know that could deal with a thousand angry, just-as-depressed-as-you-are people a day? And not only deal with the job, but ride it to the point where you get a promotion barely a year later?
Yes. I think it's safe to say that I'm better now. But I still live in a world of fear that one of these days the drugs will stop working. That I'll go back to being in that glass box where I used to watch the world from outside, and yearn to be a part of it but couldn't be because the edges of that box were cutting into my throat. That's how I felt for a long, long time. Maybe for my whole life.
I'm reminded of the song "Blackbird" by the Beatles.
Ignore the video itself... but listen to the lyrics. That's so where I really am now in my life. I'm scared.. but I'm learning to live again. That's where I am.
Thanks for listening to me ramble.
17 June 2009
Trying to hold on.
Work is pissing me off again, as usual. I failed an assignment in my crim course (after working my heart out on it - I'm so hurt). And never having any time to myself anymore.... it's all building up to a point where I'm ready to blow up. I'm serious. If even one person looks at me wrong, they're going to get hurt.
I'm so scared that I'm going to screw this school shit up. I'm trying but things are so different than what they were 20 years ago. I don't think this instructor understands - but then, since when has anyone ever understood my point of view?
The only good thing that's happened in the last couple of days is that I'm out of debt again, almost. I have two more cards to pay off and I'm through, and one of them will be handled within the month.
Otherwise... life is shit.
I need control to keep myself from crying... I'm at work. Can't afford that. But God it's so fucking hard....
17 May 2009
More random imaginings.
So for some reason, today I got the bright idea to go through all of my messaging programs and do another 'clean sweep' of people that I no longer speak with. My contact lists were pared down quite a bit - I got rid of an average 40+ people on each one. That's right - forty people.
In some ways I'm sad about it. These people were ones that I often spoke with, people whom I still wonder about... but in all honesty, it's therapeutic that I get rid of them - I can't go back to the past... even though I still try, Gawd knows. But I think I'm making progress.
One of these days I'm going to remember that there's a future out there for me... but when will I believe it, is the question..
There's not much going on today - it's Sunday. No work, no grind. I hope this upcoming week will be a lot better than last, as I nearly didn't make it through. I do have a long weekend approaching (this upcoming one), so I'll have time to relax and rest. But that's also the weekend my classes start, too, so I'm nervous. Plus, I have to start getting ready to move, too.
Sigh. It's going to be a busy month.
Anyway, not much point to this rambling, so I'll end here...
One point of note: I quit smoking for good 4 years ago today, 5/17/2005. Who knew I'd last this long. I'm proud of myself. :)
In some ways I'm sad about it. These people were ones that I often spoke with, people whom I still wonder about... but in all honesty, it's therapeutic that I get rid of them - I can't go back to the past... even though I still try, Gawd knows. But I think I'm making progress.
One of these days I'm going to remember that there's a future out there for me... but when will I believe it, is the question..
There's not much going on today - it's Sunday. No work, no grind. I hope this upcoming week will be a lot better than last, as I nearly didn't make it through. I do have a long weekend approaching (this upcoming one), so I'll have time to relax and rest. But that's also the weekend my classes start, too, so I'm nervous. Plus, I have to start getting ready to move, too.
Sigh. It's going to be a busy month.
Anyway, not much point to this rambling, so I'll end here...
One point of note: I quit smoking for good 4 years ago today, 5/17/2005. Who knew I'd last this long. I'm proud of myself. :)
23 April 2009
This is sort of a test post...
Apparently Blogger now has the ability to do posting via Email, which would be incredibly helpful for me if I want to write a post from work. I just don't like the fact that Blogger has that big splash screen practically screaming, "HEY! I HAVE A BLOG! COME LOOK, COME LOOK!", especially when I don't want these people here to know about it - it's none of their business.
We're getting ready to do the "monthly meeting" - which translates to "let's denigrate, deride, and humiliate everyone we possibly can, especially those people on the night shift", of which I happen to be one of. I already know I'm going to get singled out for something - it happens all the fucking time - and I'm not at all in a good mood. I was when I woke up. Silly me for thinking it would last.
There are days where I just think to myself that being unemployed would have been better than this. I hate being singled out for anything, be it positive or negative. For fuck's sake, if I did something wrong, address me directly - don't put me down in front of a bunch of people. You want to see me have an attack in front of you? Put me down in front of a group, especially when the group is mainly consisting of people I don't know. That's a surefire way to get me upset and sick.
Christ, I've already got tears in my eyes and the meeting's not even for 20 minutes yet.
I know, I know. "Be grateful you have a job". At this point my response would be, "Be grateful you have teeth because if I hear that shit one more time, you're going to lose them." It seems that the economic times don't permit people to complain about their jobs - well, as one of the lyrics from a Beastie Boys song goes, "and if you don't like it, then hey - fuck you". I'll complain if I damn well feel like it, and it doesn't mean I'm not grateful to be employed.
It occurrs to me that "monthly meetings" at companies are nothing more than structured bitch sessions to tell employees everything they've done wrong over the past 30 days. In some cases like mine, other employees that apparently have more 'clout' than others get to join in on the bitchfest, too. I've given up going to my supervisor - he's too soft to deal with anything. I complain, he's like "I'll take care of it", things are better for maybe a week, and then it goes back to the same stupid shit. The supervisor said today that the meeting would be on Monday because today it was too busy to deal with it - a certain employee here was like "no, that's not the way it's going to be, I want it today" (this is the same one that keeps singling me out, which means she's got it IN for me today, I can feel it coming).... and he just... capitulated. Just like that.
Is it any wonder that I want out of here?
I'm going to try and stay strong but I can already tell you that my day is fucking ruined. Even before the cause of the ruination happens. And if you're thinking that I'm jumping the gun here and assuming - well, maybe I am, but I've been right a fuck of a lot more often than I've been wrong. When one gets that sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach that something bad's going to happen, it's usually a good sign that something will. And I've got it right now.
God, help me get through the rest of this day without losing my sanity - and my job. Please.
29 March 2009
The end of another wasted weekend.
This track is seriously beginning to reflect my entire life, heh.
I like this better than the acoustic version, but they're both relevant, either way.
Sentimental - Porcupine Tree
I like this better than the acoustic version, but they're both relevant, either way.
27 March 2009
A strangely pleasant day at the mental hospital!
Heh, no, I didn't get committed again. :p
I'm sitting outside here on the lawn at Sheppard Pratt with my notebook and Pandora.fm going, trying to relax. I just finished my first appointment (this one was with the pdoc), and am now waiting on my second (the therapist). It's gorgeous, cool weather out here, and I'm enjoying the quiet (well, relatively, anyway).
Soooo.... what did Mr. Doctor say?
Basically I'm now a walking hospital, heh. I'm still on Wellbutrin XL and the buspirone, but now he's added Abilify and Cogentin to the mix. Gah. It doesn't make me feel better that Abilify was originally prescribed for schizophrenia. -_- I'm trying this combination first, but if it doesn't work, I'll go to Zoloft. Another SSRI, sigh. But he says this one's not as bad as Paxil. I can only trust him and do what he tells me, but I'm getting weary...
One of the hardest things about seeing my doctors is the people that I see around me who are obviously so much more sick than I am. There was one lady that was sitting down next to me a few minutes ago that was crying and very upset... someone tried to talk to her and she was like, "leave me alone", practically screaming it. It takes me back to the days of being locked up in the ward... and it brings back some horrible memories of Miss Annie screaming as they took her away to the soft room in the straight jacket. :'( Or the girl named Dawn that was so beautiful... but believed that taking a bath would be the death of her, that a drop of water on her skin would cause her to die. Or Miss Carol, who has a loving husband and children, and six grandchildren... a big family... a huge family that visited her every single day in the ward... but she just pushed them all away and cried, day and night... never saying a word to any of them. Just tears. Lots and lots of tears.
It brings back such a dark time. I try not to hang around if I don't have to.
Otherwise, I'm doing as well as can be expected. Hopefully the Abilify will take the edge off of the ... there's no other word for it but mania, and I think that's why he prescribed it. The mood swings, anyway.
The woman's now screaming that she won't go back to that place, she won't go back to that place, she ran down to the edge of the lawn and there's a bunch of people strapping her into the gurney... maybe the same gurney I once rode on. It makes me so sad for her, for me. Because it could have been me. It could have been me... someday it might be me if I'm not careful. It scares me that I'm close to tears just hearing her scream. I don't know if that's because I share her insanity in some ways or if it's simple compassion. Maybe it's both.
That's the scariness of what this place is. Outside the landscape is beautiful... well groomed... pretty. Inside, however, lies madness, fear... pain.
It's a constant reminder that I never want to be back here - ever.
I started this post feeling positive and upbeat, but I now feel chilled to the bone, and scared. It's not a good feeling at all, and suddenly I just wish I were back home in my warm bed, relaxing and stress-free. No worries, I'm not even close to where she is now... and I thank whatever deity you believe in for that, trust me. But there's no doubt about it... I'm disturbed now. By what, I don't know... her behavior? Or my reaction to it?
I've had to put my coat on because I'm cold all of a sudden... and I was sweating to death in it when I walked here.
Sorry to end this post on a somewhat downbeat note, but... I can't help but be nervous and frightened by this woman, by her behavior, by the fact that I see myself in her. By the fact that except for the screaming and the running around... I was her, once. The pain is no different.
I'll be better by the time I get home. :)
I'm sitting outside here on the lawn at Sheppard Pratt with my notebook and Pandora.fm going, trying to relax. I just finished my first appointment (this one was with the pdoc), and am now waiting on my second (the therapist). It's gorgeous, cool weather out here, and I'm enjoying the quiet (well, relatively, anyway).
Soooo.... what did Mr. Doctor say?
Basically I'm now a walking hospital, heh. I'm still on Wellbutrin XL and the buspirone, but now he's added Abilify and Cogentin to the mix. Gah. It doesn't make me feel better that Abilify was originally prescribed for schizophrenia. -_- I'm trying this combination first, but if it doesn't work, I'll go to Zoloft. Another SSRI, sigh. But he says this one's not as bad as Paxil. I can only trust him and do what he tells me, but I'm getting weary...
One of the hardest things about seeing my doctors is the people that I see around me who are obviously so much more sick than I am. There was one lady that was sitting down next to me a few minutes ago that was crying and very upset... someone tried to talk to her and she was like, "leave me alone", practically screaming it. It takes me back to the days of being locked up in the ward... and it brings back some horrible memories of Miss Annie screaming as they took her away to the soft room in the straight jacket. :'( Or the girl named Dawn that was so beautiful... but believed that taking a bath would be the death of her, that a drop of water on her skin would cause her to die. Or Miss Carol, who has a loving husband and children, and six grandchildren... a big family... a huge family that visited her every single day in the ward... but she just pushed them all away and cried, day and night... never saying a word to any of them. Just tears. Lots and lots of tears.
It brings back such a dark time. I try not to hang around if I don't have to.
Otherwise, I'm doing as well as can be expected. Hopefully the Abilify will take the edge off of the ... there's no other word for it but mania, and I think that's why he prescribed it. The mood swings, anyway.
That's the scariness of what this place is. Outside the landscape is beautiful... well groomed... pretty. Inside, however, lies madness, fear... pain.
It's a constant reminder that I never want to be back here - ever.
I started this post feeling positive and upbeat, but I now feel chilled to the bone, and scared. It's not a good feeling at all, and suddenly I just wish I were back home in my warm bed, relaxing and stress-free. No worries, I'm not even close to where she is now... and I thank whatever deity you believe in for that, trust me. But there's no doubt about it... I'm disturbed now. By what, I don't know... her behavior? Or my reaction to it?
I've had to put my coat on because I'm cold all of a sudden... and I was sweating to death in it when I walked here.
Sorry to end this post on a somewhat downbeat note, but... I can't help but be nervous and frightened by this woman, by her behavior, by the fact that I see myself in her. By the fact that except for the screaming and the running around... I was her, once. The pain is no different.
I'll be better by the time I get home. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
