Oh Boy…

Score: +2

So it’s day 8 of 12, and I’m beat. This Monday felt like two Mondays had fucked and made an extra evil super-dense Monday. I was being scraped across sandpaper all day. Everything was labored, and exceedingly difficult. I got decent sleep, but after the run I’ve been on, it’s hard. Very. 

Other than that, I feel fine. I’m so drained, it’s hard to write right now. I’m hoping that you all have a good night. Day 9 tomorrow. 

Some Things

I’m still a person in progress, and proud to self admit to this status. I recall a time when I was not so, before my symptoms manifested. I was closed minded, and beloved a select few “truths” about living. I remember professing in my ignorance that there was no way I would ever get married, and that there was no way I would have a kid. I remember believing these things to be as rock-solid as any declaration I could make. 

But life isn’t like that. If we don’t constantly change and progress, we are swallowed up by reality and discarded, empty. Some people refuse to accept the world for what it is. Instead, they invision it how they would want it to be, and believe that to be accurate. I used to be this person. 

I remember when it changed for me: I was 20, and just making my way into independent life. I was in school full time, and had two part time jobs. I was living with college graduates and my world-view was expanding rapidly. Then something happened, and my grip on the wheel became weaker. My emotions started shifting around inside me like parasites. I grew paranoid, fearful of others. I tried to hold on to this accelerated life I had been living. One night, I was in my car at a park well after sunset. I saw my idea of what my life was supposed to be disappearing. I opened the door to my car, and I thought to myself: I’m going to go walk out into traffic. 

It took me some time to go get help, and I was in agony over it. The admission that I was unable to do what I wanted to do. It was defeat. It was total, unconditional surrender of my vision for myself. I took it hard. I never really accepted it, and four years later I was back in school trying to make it at UCSB to become an english professor. I just wouldn’t let it go. I had to be THE BEST. I had to show everyone how brilliant I was. I dropped out of college and went into the deepest depressive cycle of my life, culminating in my entire independent life collapsing. I moved in with my parents in Sacramento two years later. 

But what was I really doing? I was throwing s tantrum, one that played out over six years. I refused to redefine myself. I would not let go of the idea of who I was supposed to be. One day, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought: this isn’t so bad. I was still basically the same person I had always been: charismatic, humorous, articulate, rational and determined. Just because I was mentally ill didn’t mean my life was over; my reality simply needed to be reimagined. I am never going to be a college professor, or a senator, but I will be an amazing man who is proud of who he is. I found a way to earn the respect of the one person that really matters… me. 

It took me a long time to get past the feeling of dismay, but the more I talked about it, the less painful it was. In order to be truly happy, I had to discover myself. How can I be proud of the person I am? What do I have to do to stop resenting myself for being mentally ill? I will admit that it took me 12 years to accept forgiveness for that, but once I did, a new world of possibilities and hope emerged. I love who I am. I am sincerely proud of the things I do with my life now. I changed my reality, and now I can breathe free air, and stand in the sun. I do not hide behind lies to please myself, I am who I am, flaws and all. Mistakes? Fuck yes! Lessons learned? Truly. 

If you have fought a similar battle with reality, I’d love to hear at what stage in the journey towards acceptance you are at. 

7 of 12

Score: +3

Well blog, I didn’t think I was working all weekend, but found out at the last minute that I was on the schedule for Sunday as well as Saturday, making this one of those 12 days in a row at work type things. This happened to me a few months ago, and I was pretty beat by the end of it.

The call volume wasn’t bad today, though it’s the boring that really gets to me. I tried my best to stay distracted. I played Peggle on my iPhone. beat it, and then beat Peggle Nights too, still with hours left to go in the day.

I had an unexpected affirmation today about the things I have been claiming about Jax. I can’t really go in to it, but let’s just say that I’m not making statements that can’t be substantiated. Thus, I have really, truly, closed the book on her. I’m not going back to her blog, and I’m not talking to her at the clinic if we are to accidentally bump into each other. Over it. Goodbye. /ignore

This will be a great test for me, this block of 12 days working. I know I missed day 4 with a stomach bug, so it’s not really 12 straight… but I should be taxed to a new level during this run. I have a lot of hope that this will be a really strong showing, and that I will not deteriorate into a pile of ash.

It has been hot the last two days. I did not sleep well in the 93 degree apartment. I turned the A/C on in the evening… too little too late. I was just miserable.

I hope you all did something fucking amazing with your weekends. I will get a good one coming up, with two fantasy football drafts to conduct. SWEET.


Score: +3.5

It seemed like things were back to normal today. I completed my shift and kept up a high level of energy while I did so. For once, someone was nice to me today… which was totally unexpected. So things were good overall. 

I keep checking in on Jax’s blog, and lately it has been pretty ridiculous. She’s quite pissed off at me still, which seems like a big waste of time. She got all butt-hurt that I reached out to her in sympathy and forgiveness, calling me a “dick,” and my life a “fucked up mess.” I guess I find it pitiful, because I’ve moved so far beyond those crazy emotions I had right after we broke up. I still feel things, don’t get me wrong… but am I angry at her? No. Do I hold on to any resentment towards her? No. What’s the point? 

I guess I have let her go, which really means I just expect us to live our separate lives without needing to revisit old wounds all the time. I must admit to being curious about how she is faring on her own, which is why I find myself reading her posts. It was definitely a mistake to try and be remorseful with her, she seemed to take that as an attack. We were never particularly good at communicating with each other anyway. But her world, as she describes it, seems very turbulent. Certainly not demonstrative of good mental stability. She is jumping from one traumatic event to the next, and this is entirely her own doing. No lessons have been learned since we divorced; she got right back into a (from my initial perspective) doomed relationship and when that fell apart, she got right back into another without hesitation. I really just hope, at some point, she tries to be an individual for a while… it’s tough just being with yourself. She seems to be avoiding it desperately, even to the point of subjecting herself to breakups and fights then to be alone. 

I have one more day of work tomorrow. My shift starts at 6:00 am PST. so I get to sleep in for an astonishing 30 minutes. Boom. I then have to cram in my chores Sunday to make sure I am caught up for the coming week. I’m meeting Angi again before she goes back to Italy. Her life is on shaky ground as well, and I’m just trying to be there for her. 

And Then… Barf

Score: +1.5

Today was an unintended step back. I felt like utter crap from the moment I woke up, but took my meds and drove to work anyway. Just after taking my first sip of coffee, I ran to the bathroom and proceeded to vomit what little contents there were in my stomach. I broke out in sweat and felt weak. My head was throbbing. I quickly decided that this was no condition to do my job, so I left, using my final paid holiday to keep my paycheck in order. 

I have been home fir a bit and I still don’t feel very good in my stomach. I had a little coffee, but it was only to keep the withdrawal headache away. I don’t know if I can do food today. Everything down there is churning and moving around. It does not feel good. 

I have two more days of work. I feel guilty because I have missed time again, and I told myself I would not do that. I will not fail on  Friday and Saturday. I have to be consistent. 

So, I generally feel like shit in my body, and my mental state is burdened by guilt. I have let myself down. I gave failed at being a stable working person. Albeit, some of it was out of my control. But I still take responsibility for this delinquency. 


Score: +3

I had a good day today. My energy level was up in a much-needed way, because it was a busy one out there. I could have interpreted some things as negative, but I really just tried to preserve my attitude regardless of my surroundings. 

I met up with my friend Angi from high school today. She is going through a tough time with her husband, who is spiraling into depression and not doing anything about it. I feel for her situation, because I too have driven my partner away by going into the dark place and not helping myself out of it. I tried to offer as much insight as I could, and I listened to her attentively. I’m generalizing my own situation, but I do understand what it takes to lift oneself out of depression, even if it means torally rebuilding a life. I am going to talk with her again on Monday. I also reached out to her husband a few months ago on Facebook, and he seemed engaged for a bit, but then he stopped talking to me. He also decided to lower his meds (now that he is alone in France and feeling better). I really just hope she stays strong through this whole thing. It’s going to be hard. 

I’m pretty tired today. I rescheduled my therapy to next Thursday because it was too much to pull off in one day. I’m feeling good though. 

Grit And Go

Score +1

It was better today then yesterday, but there is plenty of room for improvement. It was a difficult day, where all of my actions seemed forced. Even though the voice inside my head was SCREAMING for me to go home, I stayed through my entire shift. I could have left early and still been paid for it, but I did not want to let depression take any more of my time. I trudged through the wasteland of my mind and endured against the decay. 

My energy level is about the same as it was yesterday, but the score changed because my attitude was better. I did lots of work, processed a dozen help tickets, and took my share of calls out of the queue. I talked to no one today, and no one talked to me. I stayed in my cubicle and worked with my head down. Which was good, because I really hate the bullshit that goes on there. People on worktime codes who are doing nothing but walking around socializing really drive me nuts. All this while call after call pile up in the queues bringing our numbers down. My supervisors don’t do anything about it, and I don’t really know why. Maybe they are just too busy. 

I win another $50 prepaid visa today. That’s 2/3 weeks I’ve won something. And not surprising, considering that I work a lot and have my name entered in the raffle several times. That’s just more money in my pocket for doing exactly what I am asked to do. 

I’m tired. I think I will be better tomorrow. My energy should improve and then my score should go back to normal. I told Amanda what was going on and she thinks I should call my doctor. Maybe I will, but I don’t feel like I’m at a critical point yet. If things get worse then yes I will. 

My symptoms are pretty nonexistent today, it’s just the lack of energy that has me feeling deflated. I’m going to get dinner ready. Goodbye.