mountain_laurel: (make my bed in hell)
the thing that's frustrating me most about my depression at the moment is that i've got so many friends who are Doing Things. they're taking martial arts classes, growing their own vegetables, camping in yurts, hunting wild mushrooms, going to Vegas, eating in fancy restaurants, designing a new house, playing tournament Scrabble, taking trips to Japan, etc., etc., ad infinitum.

i miss doing things. i used to do things all the time. i thought i was pretty depressed then, too, but it was nothing like this. just bathing in the morning seems like a massive effort.

depression forces you to live small. it's like living in a box that keeps shrinking. first there's no room for the world, then there's no room for other people, then there's no room for the basic tasks of life, and finally there's no room to move at all. that's when the air supply starts to run out.

i'm still moving. barely. i had a fairly productive weekend, in fact -- i even went to the farmer's market, the first time i've voluntarily gone out on a weekend in nearly two months. i just don't dare hope it's a sign that things are getting better. the hope demon and i are not on speaking terms. that bastard only ever makes things worse.


Aug. 18th, 2008 09:54 am
mountain_laurel: (Default)
Iceberg Slim's vet checkup went well -- there's absolutely nothing wrong with him. the numbers on all his tests were perfect, so that's one fewer thing for me to worry about. he did manage to scratch the hell out of both the vet and the vet tech. he did NOT appreciate getting his vaccinations. i fear he will not be as popular at that office as Daddy-O was.

in other news, it looks like i'm finally getting some real work to do, albeit for another department. they've got a 700-page manual they need updated. i won't be doing the writing, just plugging it into Frame and formatting it properly. their schedule is ridiculous, however -- three weeks for them to write all the changes and me to plug them in. it's just not going to happen. i couldn't make all those revisions in three weeks, and the guys who are writing them aren't even tech writers.

depression continues very bad, but it's hard to say how much of that is medication and how much is my complete lack of any kind of life outside of work. socializing just seems like such a *chore*, though. i wish i hadn't moved to south austin; it makes it so much more difficult to hang out with people. i'm more avoidant than ever -- i'm still going to bed way too early because all i really want to do is sleep. getting netflix has helped me stay up at least somewhat later, but i'm still in bed by 9 almost every night.

and since all the kids are doing it, here's my manga avatar:

mountain_laurel: (Default)
i was already a pretty serious hermit before the great naomi debacle. after that... )
mountain_laurel: (Default)
a Times-Picayune reporter who once thought depression was "a load of hooey" recants with eloquence and grace. it's clear that what he's specifically suffering from is PTSD, but depression is a routine outgrowth of that, as are anxiety and various other mood disorders.

required reading for the unconvinced.
mountain_laurel: (she-hulk)
clean sheets and towels (i had just enough on my laundry card for one load) and three dishwasher loads done. i don't feel any better, mind you, but at least i've accomplished something. time will tell whether this is pure anxiety or my crunchiest-ever upswing. either way, it's astoundingly unpleasant.


mountain_laurel: (Default)
yes, i’m alive. no, i don’t have the checks from the insurance company yet, but they say the claims are being processed right now. the cats are spoiled, as usual.

i’m sorry if i owe you an email or a thank you or something. i can’t seem to manage anything. yesterday i went to the grocery store for juice and fruit. it took me until 5pm to work up the initiative, and when i got home i had to rest for a while before unpacking the bags. i’ve reached the point where even getting laid doesn’t sound appealing, because it would require too much effort. i’m just clinging to the hope that i’ll hear back about that job after the 1st and ignoring the calls from various creditors that come in about every 20 minutes.

my resolution for 2006 is to remain alive. anything more would be pushing my luck.
mountain_laurel: (the brave little hibiscus)
let me just say that when your prescription charge is so high that the drugstore has to run it as two separate transactions because their system isn't set up to handle that kind of money, and that wasn't even all of them, you're entitled to be fucking cranky, yo. yes, in fact, sans insurance, my psych meds per month cost just about the same as my rent. )

i just found two errors on my resume. one of them no one but me will recognize, but the other (two sections out of order) would be caught by anyone as nitpicky as i am. neither was caught by any of the people i asked to proofread my resume. i figure i'm probably ok. (but i'm fixing them both.)

i have a phone interview tomorrow, with the company [ profile] amywithani works for. cross your fingers for me. especially considering their reputation letting months and/or years (no lie) pass between interviews and offers. does anyone know a tactful way to say "and by the way, i hear you take forever to hire people, but i'd really appreciate it if you could make me an offer while i still have an address?"

my only other lead so far is that my favorite teller down at the bank slipped me an application and said they're hiring some part-time tellers right now. i'd totally go for it except it's not such a great idea to take a job with your own bank branch and then quit a month later when you get a real job. they know where i keep my money! still, mad props to Teresita. whatever that means. i just realized i have no idea what that means. i get the "mad" part, but what the hell is "props?" is that short for "AttributionDammit?" jesus christ, i'm old. i have no idea who's on the radio and i can't decipher the slang. i'd better get some more tattoos so i can at least get respect on the ink front. that'll be especially important once i'm living in my car.

i'd claim my life is half over but i'll never get that lucky -- longevity (and cynicism) runs on both sides of my family; as my dad likes to say, "we enjoy our poor health well into our old age." i figure i'll go 90, 92 at a minimum, unless they legalize voluntary euthanasia by then. so vote Democrat, or you can count on 50+ more years of my whining.

also, i have discovered the best personal ad ever.
mountain_laurel: (Default)
so i spent all day in bed writing, and saved the spoons to make homemade meatballs and spaghetti. and they are so good! if i had another spoon, i would do an interpretive dance to express the goodness of these meatballs.

mmmmmmmmm, meatballs!
mountain_laurel: (Default)
and i have to wash the spoon between uses. and it's only a teaspoon.

in totally unrelated news, the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster needs your help!
mountain_laurel: (Default)
day 40. woohoo! how long before people start making pilgrimages to ask me the questions of the ages?
mountain_laurel: (Default)
for a couple of weeks now, i've been contemplating the bleakness of my future. i'm burned out from the job i just left and the other little tragedies of the past six months. i have no time to recover from that because i have to find another job right away. this is how my life goes: i work my ass off finding a job, i work my ass off trying to keep the job, i use all my PTO on sick days so i can never take a vacation, and then i get fired or laid off and work my ass off finding another job. i will never get a break. this will be my life: a constant struggle just to stay where i am, with no chance of ever getting ahead. i will keep taking the medication because it allows me to keep struggling. and i will be grateful that i have this much.

it's been 26 days since i last spent time with a friend. not a whine, i'm just sayin'. my life has never been emptier or more devoid of purpose.

so. that's what i've been thinking about. cheery, huh?
mountain_laurel: (I LIVE!!!!)
it should be pretty clear to anyone who's paying attention that i'm in the mother of all ruts and have been for years now. i make the occasional halfassed attempt at change, but it never seems to stick. i'm starting to think that the only way for me to get out of it is to make a major change in my life. something really big. like... say... moving.

yeah, yeah, i know. you've been saying that for years now, some of you at least. but it's an incredibly difficult decision for me. on the one hand, it would undoubtedly be good for me to move into an urban environment. someplace i could actually walk to things. i'd get out more. i'd get exercise. i'd meet people. all those things i really need.

on the other hand, i've been in my place for 10 years. it's home to me in a way that no place has ever been. and i love Pacifica. i love being able to look out the window and see the ocean. i love the quirkiness of the place. it's really comfortable. and that's important to me.

i've also never lived in an urban environment, ever. even when i lived in Charlotte, i was in a neighborhood of 50s vintage tract homes, on a windy little tree-lined street with a stream running down behind the houses. i could walk to the Giant Genie for groceries, but it wasn't what you'd call "urban".

i fear change. that much is obvious. it's part of the rut. and how long has it been since you left a place you'd lived for 10 years or more as an adult? getting out of your parents' house for the first time is big, but it's a whole different thing having to leave a place that you chose as a grownup and have made your own and grown accustomed to. it's a big deal.

i don't know if i'm brave enough yet to do this. (and i don't know if i can afford it.) maybe it's just my usual springtime urge -- i get homesick for DC, start thinking about other places i've lived, and feel vaguely dissatisfied with where i am. i do it every year. suddenly, everywhere looks better than where i am.

until, of course, i look out the window. the ocean has a pull for me like nothing else on earth. i need to be near it. yeah, of course if i lived in the city i could go to the ocean trivially. it's the N-Judah line, right? or you can take the shuttle from Golden Gate Park.

but i wouldn't be able to look out the window and see it. it wouldn't be there to greet me in the morning and lull me to sleep at night. and it's so hard to think about leaving that. so hard.

of course, i could always move back to Pacifica if i miss it too much. it's not like there aren't always vacancies. Pacifica appeals to a particular sort of person. most people who move here don't stay long. the ones who do never leave.

it's hard to think about this. it makes my head feel all prickly and hot. and i shouldn't think about it at all until my tax situation is all settled and my finances have stabilized.

but i think it's something i need to do. at least if i want a life bigger than 670 square feet.
mountain_laurel: (fall)
afternoons, i often fall into these somber, detached moods. today seems too dull and empty to be real, so my head fills up with misguided regret and escapism. i alternately wish for what was never mine and what can never be. storylines spin out so quickly i can't follow their threads, and i end up back in the front seat of a broken-down VW bus in the parking lot of an abandoned Hechinger's in Chantilly, Virginia the night i didn't kiss Billy. it was the right choice, even though it was only shyness that made it for me, but i do hope he eventually made it to Graceland and found enlightenment and soap. standing too close to Kevin in another parking lot, both of us practically incandescent with doubt, too fucked up to touch each other, until someone shouted, "oh, just kiss her already!" and broke the tension, and he gave me a hug that was just a little longer and fiercer than was strictly necessary and walked away, and i never saw him again. the whole kung fu school was sure we were destined for each other, but of course that was before he was indicted. another correct choice. apparently, my cowardice knows better than i do. all the boys i did kiss were wrong choices.

i don't think i was ever meant for kissing. ranting and raving and writing angry songs, sure -- without all those choices, the bad and the good, i'd have had nothing to write about. but more tender emotions? they'd never survive the inner maelstrom anyway. no point feeding filet mignon to a pack of starving dogs. these things are best left in the past, where i can pull them out and dust them off and polish them up and view them through a rose-colored telescope. so much better than waking up in a trailer park with an unemployed musician or moving to L.A. for a heavily armed latent sociopath with a shiny badge and an incipient drinking problem. it seems so much more romantic from a distance. just like in the movies.

enough of this. time to retreat back into the fantasy world, where things explode and life is exciting and fraught with danger and there's sex and champagne with a different antihero every night. i wonder if my Bourne Identity/Supremacy DVDs arrived today?
mountain_laurel: (fall)
do i exist when nobody's looking? part of me is afraid i don't, i think. it's why i posted so often to talk.bizarre and why i now post so much to livejournal. look at me! i'm here! don't forget about me! here i am!

it was only when [ profile] naomi_traveller told me so a few months ago that i realized -- i've become an actual recluse. i avoid social situations. i spend every minute i can at home alone. i go to the same stores, the same restaurants, clinging desperately to the familiar and safe. on my own initiative, i rarely try anything new. god only knows what dangers might lurk in the depths of a seemingly innocent little bistro. i don't like my apartment filthy, but as long as it is, i have an excuse not to let anyone in. this may in some way be a metaphor for my current mental state.

what am i so afraid of? rejection. humiliation. pain. pure and simple. maybe i'll be dressed wrong and they'll throw me out. maybe i'll stumble into a private party and be humiliated. maybe i'll try to talk to someone cute and they'll blow me off. maybe i'll think i've made a friend and they'll betray me. maybe i'll stand in the wrong line and the world will come to a catastrophic end. maybe i'll fall in love and -- god, i can't even think about the swirling mass of horrifying what-ifs there. what if they turn out to be married? what if they're only in it for the sex? what if they're another passive-aggressive control freak, or a borderline sociopath, or a drunk, or they hit me? what if they're a spineless parasite or a condescending autocrat or the sort of lazy-ass lover who wants me to be on top all the time because he can't be arsed to put in the effort otherwise?

and god, what happens if they're into me and i'm not into them? the last couple of times that happened, i got stalked. what if they intrude on my space and i'm too cowardly to tell them to back off? what if i end up feeling obligated to rub their greasy zit-covered back because i was too much of a wimp to tell them to stop rubbing mine? what if they hang out down on the corner all the time so they know when i leave in the morning and come back in the evening? what if they call me 20 times a day and just breathe into the phone?

the world is fraught with danger. best to stay home and keep to myself. people have, on the whole, been more trouble than they were worth for me, barring a few wonderful exceptions.

i'm supposed to be going out and meeting new people and doing new things. it's therapy. it's good for me. eventually, i hope i'll build enough trust to make real friends, have real relationships, feel comfortable in my skin and in the world.

even thinking about it scares me shitless.

i'd just like to take this moment to say a rousing "FUCK YOU" to the people who made me what i am today: emotional bonsai, stunted and trained and starved for space, constantly having my new green shoots pinched off, being viewed as an oddity by those around me.


mountain_laurel: (Default)

June 2010

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