Burning Out

Remember how I said that Sunday was my last family activity? I forgot to mention my parents are moving as well, and as of this afternoon that task too will be completed. Meanwhile, I’m barely hanging on. My energy is in the tank, my attitude sucks and my motivation has shriveled up and died. It has been a grueling week plus a few days. 

However, by the time late afternoon gets here, I really will be left alone to have my weekend. I can relax and regain some inertia. This run has taxed me, and there have been consequences. Mainly, I drive much more aggressively than I have in the past. I need to stop doing that because it is dangerous and not beneficial. I also blew up at this lady who asked me if I could plug her dual diagnosis site. At first I told her yes, back earlier in the week, but as you can see, I haven’t had the strength to post until now. She poked me yesterday asking if I had done my favor for her, and I told her I’d post it when I was good and ready, if at all. If I’m the one helping you out, don’t prod me to get me to do it faster. That’s infuriating. So, I’m not going to post her content as a reminder to myself and others: treat me with respect, and you will be treated with the same… treat me like an idiot and count me out. 

It’s an hour before my alarm goes off. I just had a series of perturbing dreams that I clearly remember, for once (a byproduct of hugely reduced cannabis intake). I dreamed about Amanda, and that I was kicking the shit out of her ex husband. But he was like, unstoppable. He insisted on annoying me and no matter how hard I hit him or choked him or smashed his face with bricks, he just kept coming. He tore my Fitbit off my arm, he stole my phone, he was standing over me while I was in bed, it gets weirder from there. Amanda and I tried to have sex but he was right there and I couldn’t get hard. It was totally strange. Then there was an alien invasion and people were being harvested and taken up to the mothership. We were all fugitives running from safe house to rendezvous point. For some reason or another, Amanda and I had to split up. I cried because I knew we were both going to be caught before we reached the next safe place, and I was never going to see her again. It was a strange dream with a bummer ending. 

Today I’m finishing up the move for my parents. We are hauling food to the new apartment. After today, moving time will be over. I can’t tell you how badly I need the time off. I also really want to see Carly but she’s been busy for the last two months. A product of circumstance, mind you. I still believe Carly is repulsed and also not interested in talking about my herpes, which will relegate our relationship to a platonic state. I guess I don’t mind that, since I was the one who did this to myself. I can’t expect anyone to want to have sex with me anymore. 

Well blog, one more day. 

Ragequit

Well I had a bit of a “lost my shit” moment this afternoon, as one after the other disappointing thing happened at work. I basically work with people who put forth the bare minimum effort in their occupations and nothing negative I point out ever fucking changes. I’m so tired of hoping the supervisors will do something and watching them ignore the things that make our workplace a fucking joke. And it’s a joke. I’m surprised we aren’t laughed at more often.

I got on the road and was insane. I cut people off, I was yelling through my window and I nearly rear-ended someone in my fury. Basically, frustration boiled over and I began to hate everyone and everything. Like right now, for example.

Part of me thinks this is still part of the marijuana withdrawal because that tends to make me grouchy. It’s been a week, so it’s kinda late in the game for that to be the case… but I never flip out like this. I’m usually calm and logical, not exploding with anger. My emotions have become significantly more volatile since stopping the weed.

Trouble is, there’s nothing I can do about it without surrendering my standards. I set my goal for the first Friday of next month as to when I would start smoking under new guidelines… but here I am only a week out and I’m suffering. This is just something I’m going to have to push through. I guess.

I’m pissed at everything right now. The world is so fucking stupid it blows my mind. There’s nothing I can do to change any of the bullshit things that happen every day in my life. I just stand up, get socked in the face, and get back up again ready for another. Isn’t life fucking great?

I’m supposed to play D & D tonight but I’m furious. I don’t feel like playing a game I feel like killing someone with my bare hands. I want to choke the life out of some of these worthless fucks at my workplace, then crush their faces in to the floor with my foot. Fuck every single one of those motherfuckers.

God damnit this is fucking stupid. Why do I even bother trying? No one cares. No one gives a shit. I’m all alone out here with everyone in the world with their backs turned to me. Pretending I’m not here. Who gives a fuck what I say?

Goodbye.

End

I made it to the end of the day and I am glad for it. This weekend has been the most conflicted and most emotionally taxing one I’ve had in distant memory. It was a constant battle to resist my urges and stay true to my goal. Now at the conclusion, I am well-fed and at peace, ready to pass some time before going to bed. 

Do you ever get that feeling like all you want to do is get in bed and hide? I’ve had that feeling since 7 am. I knew that there was an appropriate time to acknowledge that, but it wasn’t until just now. Yet another thing I had to hold myself back from. 

Tomorrow I go back to work, and the schedule aught to help me stay focused. It’s the long stretches of unstructured time that I struggle with. Tonight, all I have left to do is relax and enter a peaceful sleep. My fit bit tells me I’m getting a whole lot more R.E.M. sleep than when I was smoking, hence the dream I had earlier. That’s really the one potential snag in this equation: nightmares. I could be ruined tomorrow if I have a terrible nightmare. My very first dream in months last night was a nightmare. Not a great sign. Nightmares alter my neurochemistry which has an immediate impact on my life. Not something most of you have to worry about. 

I got a chance to chat with friends today. Played some games. Did chores, and kept myself distracted. I’m proud of myself for not caving in. I never even opened the drawer. 

I hope the rest of your Sunday goes well. 

Dreaming Again

If there is as aspect to regular marijuana use That I have become somewhat dependent on, it is dream suppression. Why would that be a good thing you ask? Most people enjoy dreaming for the most part, but I am consistently tortured by it. 

Tonight I had dreams, and was eaten by a dragon, which may not seem like a big deal until you appreciate just how vivid and horrific that experience really was. Fictional? Yes. Terrifying? Also yes. This is but a brief glimpse into what my dreams are usually like. 

So I know I’m still doing the right thing in quitting, but I don’t much like all these side effects. Most of you have no problems dreaming and marking them as irrelevant, but my dreams can ruin my next day, spin me into depression or anxiety and generally haunt me throughout. I do not like dreaming, it is a liability. 

So as I forge ahead with my self-imposed sobriety, I now must accept that I will dream, and chances are, it won’t be much fun. 

Disenchanted 

Score: +2.5

It’s been a tough couple of days. With the heat being as unrelenting as it has been, I’ve not been getting good rest and feeling generally irritable. I had a bad nightmare two nights ago, and that can make my neurochemistry imbalanced the following day. Yesterday I only worked a half day. I just reached a breaking point and just lost all energy and focus. Today it was much the same, but I got 3/4 of the way and bailed out. I have been having a very hard time focusing on my job. My mind wanders and I can’t concentrate on what I’m doing. I often find myself typing things out that I’m thinking rather than what I should be doing. This has been getting worse lately, peaking today, where nearly everything was off. I was double checking, which made the already tedious process even slower. I’m not sure what my problem is. 

I know I deal with ADD symptoms, but I’ve always been able to push through it. This week though… I’m hopeful that tomorrow will be better. 

I’m also feeling increasingly depressed. I don’t know what trigger is. This heat is like poison to me. Maybe that long weekend just contrasted so harshly with the brutality of the work week in a very stark way. I wish I was still having fun like I did, but that’s not realistic. Life is mostly work, occasionally enjoyable. There are people out there who genuinely love their jobs, but I do not. My job is hard, and as ceaseless as the mail. I never truly enjoyed it, even when I first started. I’m good at it, and I understand it well enough, but I don’t take much pleasure from it. This will be my lot, because I don’t get to just choose whatever I want to do. I dropped out of college, and I have no skill that is something that I would like to do professionally. I could see myself as a PC game designer, or managing a computer repair shop… maybe. But these are dreams, and just as unattainable as my other incorporeal fancies. I don’t spend much time on things that will never “be.”

I’m sure this will pass. I just need to hunker down and get through this rough spot. It’s not as hot today as it was yesterday. Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow.  

Buspirone

Score: +2.5

My day began with the return of the ghost. This formless specter occasionally haunts my dreams, where it usually succeeds in killing me through suffocation. I often try to confront the ghost, but it is unimaginably powerful. It wins every time. In last night’s permutation, it was after my sister, which has not happened before. I woke up before things got out of hand, as the ghost was trying to carry my sister off into a closet. I have been consulting with Amanda about what this all means, but even the dream guide can’t make much sense of it. All I know for sure is that the ghost comes out when depression is near. 

My anxiety has been rather constant, and it’s largely physical symptoms. My muscles are in a state of spasm and agitation, my thoughts are spinning around rapidly, I feel like a weight is pressing down on my chest. And I’ve done my cognitive homework on this one, so I’m not just thinking bad thoughts and allowing anxiety to carry them out of control. I have tried things to reduce anxiety, but they don’t get me out of the hole. So I called my doctor and she called back today and after some discussion we agreed to start me back up on Buspar. I will be taking an introductory dose until she can see me again on the 20th. She’s afraid I will get manic since I’m on a max dose of Welbutrin and the Buspar could push me over. But I told her that the only times I have been manic were when I went through a full unmediated cycle and then once when my first psychiatrist put me on 3 antidepressants at the same time. So it’s not something I think will happen. But if I start to get out of control, I can just stop the Buspar. 

Anyway. I’m ok overall. The anxiety is irritating, but surmountable. Things in life are progressing. Amanda goes back to work in two weeks. I’m really not sure how that is going to go. She has so much hatred for that place. 

I’m going to be ok. Hopefully I sleep soundly, without any dreams. 

What Is Done & What Remains Undone

Score: +3

It’s Saturday, and it’s really hot here in the desert southwest. I have been keeping busy with some mandatory responsibilities and sweating a lot. Blah.

All this incessant heat has me thinking about my life, now that I’m huddled in the shade trying not to move. If there’s one thing that I’ve managed to let go of, it’s my past. Since coming off the cannabis recently, I had expected to have a lot of nightmares about stuff that happened in my last relationship because the pot suppresses dreaming entirely (but then uncorks a torrent of dreams for days). Instead, I have had no nightmares, just odd dreams with little or no context and very random things happening. Nothing out of the ordinary. To be honest, I don’t have much trauma from my past relationship, except for that night I tried to kill myself. I don’t like holding on to bad feelings, and negative things because they are poison for the mind. In situations like a divorce, the memories and incidents should be abandoned (once processed for merit), because they are never going to be properly resolved or brought to any sort of closure. I could dwell, but there’s not much to be gained there. I don’t harbor any resentment for Jax anymore. I’ve let go of that part of my life, and fully moved on. Going back is useless.

So this weekend I’m the on call tech, and my phone has already rang twice. Amanda had her art in a TV show that was filed here in San Diego today and we are going back there to pick up her canvases which were used as decorations around the house. It’s going to be on A&E networks and FYI at some point in the the fall, on a show called “Tiny House Hunters.” It’s just another great opportunity for Amanda’s burgeoning art career. She is more than a month sober and deep into her treatment program. Things for her have been improving over these last few weeks. She has taken on the lion’s share of the housework and has started tackling projects around the apartment. I see her pride coming out, and she wants the place she lives in to be a reflection of how she feels, and as that feeling gets clearer and stronger, things will begin to take shape in her environment.

As for me, I’m recovering and doing well. I experienced a very low point back early in the week, but have struggled up and out of that pit. I am on a higher dose of lithium, but I doubt that would have had any effect by now. My symptoms are fading as time passes, which is a sign that I am not headed for a prolonged bout with bipolar depression.

I have such a good life right now. A life that I am happy with and that I can develop respect for myself in. I don’t disregard the errors of my past (of which there are many), but I don’t hold on to them like they were something precious that I desire to keep. I have learned something of quality from my negative experiences, in order to improve myself for the future. But I refuse to be upset, hurt, bitter or even resentful of things that happened to me, and because of me. What’s the point of all the bad energy? Does it help me feel good about myself? Do I gain some sort of satisfaction by being miserable? Do I yearn to be the victim of my own calamitous life? See how these questions all point to a destructive thought sequence with no possible positive outcome?

I’m all about improving. Life is constantly providing me with new things to learn about, and from. The things that we experience (with a proper interpretation) are there for us to build off of; we grow and change in a manner of our own choosing. We can, therefore, exist in the past, where nothing can be changed, or thrive in the future, where anything is possible. If life has any one lesson to be gleaned it’s that unpredictability reigns supreme. That’s what keeps me (at least) tuned in for the next new thing that will happen, whatever the outcome. There’s no judgement, only understanding.

 

Sop have a good night, and take the path that makes you feel alive, full and real. This world has so much to offer, if we can disconnect from regret and move on from pain.