happy birthday to me

it’s here. happy birthday to me, I suppose. I survived another year of living with myself, of beating myself up and despising who I am and what I haven’t accomplished.

a friend has to postpone birthday hangouts last night. instead, a different friend came over last night and gave me a few gifts. I skipped the gym this morning. I have had a few wishes her at work; I’ve received a few texts from my Louisiana folk too. then there’s an unrelated work hangout this afternoon. in the evening, I’m going to Noodles and Company with a third friend; he will probably pay, knowing him. then tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Saturday, Brian will take me to dinner and to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. at some point, I know I’ll get a gift from another friend who always sends something.

 

I wanted to cry when I woke up this morning. I really hoped that my gift from The-Powers-That-Be would be my not waking up finally. alas.

my sleeping issues have returned. I’m not sure what’s up with that. I mentioned to Brian about going back to a sleep specialist, and he agreed that it was a good idea.

my depression is worse, too; but that typically happens around my birthday.

I haven’t been to therapy in several months. she had a health issue that kept her out of work. she wants to meet Sep 2. I liked what work we were doing when we were actually doing it. but her constantly cancelling and rescheduling appointments was a real pain, and I had decided that I wouldn’t go back. but now, with the state I’m in, maybe I should. for now, at least. …man, I dunno.

I got a UTI last week. haven’t been back to my kickboxing since then. I know that’s not helping my mood any. I also ran out of my fibro and my axiety meds two weeks ago. so that’s taking a toll.

 

overall things should be great for me. but I’m crazy, and things are not good in my Mind.

so yeah. happy birthday to me.

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meh. \shrugs\

I locked the door behind me as I was leaving for work yesterday morning.  a thought flashed through my mind: “I should quit my job today.”

I didn’t.
and I won’t.

but I wanted to.  not for any of the reasons I’ve ever left a job before — which is almost always that the job is slowly killing me on the inside.  instead, I wanted to quit because I just wanted to quit everything.

I had stayed home Tuesday due to have fell ill over the weekend.  I slept all. day. long.  and Wednesday morning, I wondered why I wasn’t doing that everyday.

it’s been a while since I’ve just wanted to Quit.  like, not necessarily or specifically Life itself.  but just Everything.  (recent months, it’s been wanting to very precisely Quit Life.)  but as of the last few days?, weeks?, it’s been just wanting to casually say, “okay, that was fun.  but I’m done now.”

like when you’re playing a game, and you’re just done playing.  time to stop.  nothing drastic like taking your ball home.  nothing like forfeiting the play.  just, time to stop playing.  no remorse, no regret, just Quittin’ time.

part of me is very apathetic about my family coming up here in June.  (another part is OMG, super stoked!)  a large portion of me just doesn’t really care about anything.

will I be fit and prepared for the Tough Mudder?  meh.
will I do something fun this weekend?  meh.
will I enjoy reading my books the next time I pick them up?  meh.
will I eat anything today?  meh.
I just don’t really care about anything.

nothing seems important or matterful.  things are neither easy nor difficult, good nor bad.  I just don’t care.

I’m not sure if this is an improvement or just a side step from crippling depression.  the jury is still out on this one.

the tiredness

a great read that really put you in the footsteps of one who suffers.

 

“When mental illness gets the best of you, we remind ourselves of who we are.”

Source: When mental illness gets the best of you, we remind ourselves of who we are.

medication, relationships, and disassociations

oops.  so I’ve managed to not take my morning medications almost every day this week (my most important meds are my morning ones, of course).  also, I’ve forgotten my evening meds numerous times in the last two weeks.  however, I’ve been fairly good about my mid-day meds — naturally, because those are the least important of the three.  ~sighs~

I’ve been totally exhausted lately.  like, before my screwing up the taking of my meds.  that’s actually what led to my forgetting to take them.  over the weekend, I just got really, really tired.  then Monday morning, I sleep in until I absolutely have to wake up for work, and I forget to dope myself up while I rush getting ready.  and it just happens like that every morning for the rest of the week.  today included.

Brian called me while I was on my way to work because he noticed I forgot my meds.  I’d be late if I had turned around though.  and I just also didn’t give a fuck about going back to take them.  “it’s not like they’re doing much good anyway”, half-sleepy me told myself as I steered with one knee, guzzled an energy drink with one hand, and shoved eggs into my mouth with the other hand.  (the second knee was attached to the foot reserved for the gas and brake pedals.  I have to get creative whenever I need each a hand and a foot/knee/leg for the shifting and powering the clutch.)  so I just thanked him, and kept going away from home.

I’ve been frustrated with him for a day or so now.  he did tiny thing A that is a big thing to me, and I noticed I had an emotional response about it.  I did my best not to have an emotional reaction, and I only kinda succeeded.  but then I beat myself up for having emotions at all.  I typically get very angry at myself when and because I’m angry at him.  and of course, during all this, I don’t tell him shit, because I don’t want him to start feeling bad about having peeved me off.  but he inquired this morning, and I was just like, “let’s talk about this when I’m not running late for work, okay?”

second thing I really wanted to discuss here (venting about Brian kinda snuck in here, lol) is my disassociation qualities returning.  I’m getting “that feeling” again wherein I’m not Me.  I’m multiple peoples living in a single body, so take turns sharing the physical cage.  I “see” myself doing and saying things.  I’m over-analyzing my actions in a very particular way — not so much “objective” as it is disjointed and disconnected.

maybe it’s the lack of medication in my system.  maybe it’s the two energy drinks a day I take just to stay awake.  maybe it’s whatever started making me so tired over the weekend.

maybe it’s finally time for a Cycle change, and I’m going to go into a mania soon.  that would be a nice change of pace.  I haven’t had a proper (hypo-)mania in a while.  though I doubt it, given all the additional sleep I’ve been needing.

one thing I’m going to discuss at therapy is how I’m so Tired.  like, when she or my psychiatrist ask me about how this is going or what I feel about that, I just wanna look at them and say, “I don’t know. I’m too Tired to think about an analyze it.”  an me being too tired to analyze something — not a good sign.

I suppose that’s all for now.  I’m just really off kilter.  and because I don’t know the cause, I can’t even pretend to come up with a solution.

Death of a Saleswoman

I’m a good saleswoman.  I can make you buy just about anything.  when I was just a peon at the portrait studio, I was capable of having you purchasing so many portraits, you wouldn’t know what to do with them all.  when I was a cashier at a book store, I constantly broke through the roof in membership card sales.  I was always one of the most successful Girl Scout cookies seller in my childhood.  I’ve always been able to get people to buy what I want to them to buy.

and this time around, I over-successfully sold me.

that’s how I feel at work.  I think I over-sold myself to them, and now I’ve screwed them over.  I did too well in the interview, because I’m obviously not nearly as competent and intelligent as I made myself out to be.

I wouldn’t say I’m a liar, because I’m not.  I just used stronger language than I should have, maybe.  instead of  expressing myself as comfortable and relatively experienced with finances maybe I should have said I’m an idiot with numbers as soon as you place a dollar sign in front of them (Brian can confirm the truth in that).  instead of telling them that I would be willing to relearn Spanish, I should have commented on my inability to really recall any information or facts.

I have done them a disservice in selling myself so well to them.  and this guilt is going to eat me alive.

but does it really?

so that post about every little thing mattering….. ugh. foot in mouth.

I’m walking the up and down the stairwell in my apartment complex because I can’t bring myself to go to the gym. I am weak and tired; and my current issue is my shame for being weak and tired.

I couldn’t even get into gym clothes without just bawling. so Brian told me to walk around the complex in whatever I am in (work clothes). better than not moving at all, right?

I can’t bring myself to go out of the stairwell and into the hallway. what if there’s a person? I can’t be around people right now.

so I’m hiding in the stairwell. but I’m walking. up, up, down, down. up, up, down, down.

better than nothing, right? every little bit matters?

on how depression applies to my current job

I am finally reading posts again. it’s made not crying on my commutes more doable.

to an entry of someone whose writings I admire greatly, I commeneted as follows:

one thing my various doctors and therapists always told me was how with mental disorders, what something is now is how it seems to have always and will always be. for example, then in a manic phase, things seem great and you feel like you could take on the world — and you can take it on tomorrow too, and the next day, and the next … and even months from now, you’ve got this shit in the bed and will never have a sub-par day again. the “sick mind”, as we and it are sometimes called, struggles to separate now from forever. this is the same on the depression front too. and it all really sucks ass.

I would love to take my own advice here, but I think it’s unrelated to my work concerns. I know that eventually I will get the hang of it, and I may even eventually prove to be really badass at it. but it’s legitimately the “right now” about which I’m concerned.

I feel as if I have so few Spoons these days (see Christine Miserandio’s “The Spoon Theory”). I do’t have enough to ensure this shit day after day, and still try to function on top of that. I even told a friend last night how coming home and crying for an hour or so after work (as I have been doing) is generally helpful im the emotional sense, but it requires much more Spoons than just cutting would. sure, it allowa me well enough to move on with life lethargicly that evening. but the next moening, I am still drained and hopeless. just getting out of bed costs Spoons that I will need on the job.

and as I told Brian last night,this is a special kind of self-hatred that I have by the end of each day. this is the kind the occurs because you’ve let people down. it’s one thing, for example, when you are going to fail a class because you suck at something. but when I was teaching, the notion of letting all those students down was devestating. similarly, I am going to end up destroying this law firm’s books. they don’t deserve that; and I can’t help but feel that I deserve this employment chance.