I’m pretty sure I’ve never mentioned here before that I’m sick. I have a chronic immune disorder. Tl;dr: my immune system doesn’t work very well, and in the past it decided to randomly attack my organs.*
What this means is I pick up illnesses like a 90’s kid picking up Pokemon cards. When I worked at the call center, I would get bronchitis a minimum of once per year, because that place was terrible about letting anyone use sick time/any sort of PTO, so people were showing up sick to work pretty much constantly. The call center also didn’t believe in bathroom breaks longer than 2 minutes, which discourages hand-washing (gross), or assigned seats, or any sort of mandatory desk cleaning (or making disinfecting wipes consistently available), so every surface could be reasonably assumed to be infected unless you’d personally wiped it down that day.
I also have insomnia,** and not sleeping enough demonstrably makes my already-fucked immune system even more worthless.
I’ve been ill with something flu-like for something like 2 weeks now. I’m not sick enough to go to a doctor (thank fuck, because I don’t have money for that)/I don’t think there’s anything a doctor could do for me anyway.
I’m improving, but slowly.
*”Hey guys! You know what would be fun? LET’S MURDER THE PANCREAS! Rawr!”
**The can’t-fall-asleep/can’t-stay-asleep kind. I despise chemical sleep, so I’ve never been into sleeping pills, but I take melatonin now. It helps a bit, and I usually don’t have that awful chemical hangover the whole next day.
Nothing of consequence/everything of consequence. Things are happening and other things are being reconsidered/reevaluated/reworked.
Between now and the new year:
- Abandoning Project: Fail Better (attempting that again in the new year).
- Working on my dead days novel (more on that later).
- Mental health fuckery (always mental health fuckery).
I’m not into New Year’s resolutions but I may throw up a new year post because one arbitrarily-designated timestamp seems as good as any other.
Better luck in 2016?
The short explanation is mental health fuckery and dental work.
The longer explanation is work sucks and has been tripping up my anxiety which has been making my sleep disorder worse which has been making work more difficult to handle, etc, etc, repeat. Also depression. I have had two deep depressive episodes within the past 6 months and I still refuse to be medicated or properly diagnosed because I persist on clinging to the belief that I can and am successfully coping on my own.
When I started researching non-pharmaceutical depressive treatment options, I figured out that what I’m doing is somewhat similar to cognitive behavioral therapy and. I’m keeping my head above water. Just. I’m not suicidal. I’m not at the point where I need to hide the sharp things. I’m helpless/hopeless but I’ve gotten pretty used to this feeling, so.
Besides the mental issues, I am finally dealing with some dental issues that I have neglected for too long.* Dental work is both interesting to me and a special kind of psychological torture.
Tl;dr: I’m trying to do better/I’m trying to be better. I’ll be back once I have anything somewhat worthwhile to post about.
*Who the fuck waits until they’re over 30 to get their wisdom teeth out? Seriously.
(Or, Forcibly Ordered Thoughts From the Land of Disordered Sleep.)
This past week
Achieved about 4-6 hours of sleep per night.
Tonight, something like 8:35
Too tired to stay awake, curled up on the couch* and feel asleep near-instantly.**
Woke up. Awake like AWAKE. Got a drink of water. Went back to bed.
Fuck it. Internet! :D
*Since my living space is tending towards die-from-exposure cold, I’ve been offered space on a couch in a room where I will not freeze to death. This is amazing.
**This does not happen for me. Even when I’m too-tired-to-function it still takes a very long time for sleep to sink its jaws in and claim me.
So fix it.
But it’s everything.
I hate my job. I hate my life.
I’m so lonely I could scream.
So fix it. Fix all those things.
You’re so fucking mopey sometimes.
I’ve been listening to Marilyn Manson and Depeche Mode and crying for like 3 weeks.
Ugh. That’s… not a good sign.
Yeah. It’s all painful associations and emotional triggers.
I attach too much to music.
Was there a purpose?
Or were you just looking for something to drown in for a while?
The drowning was already happening.
I though I could get out by going through.
So keep going.
Make the necessary decisions to propel you in the correct direction.
But how do I do that if I don’t even know what I want?
I just know I don’t want this.
Fuck if I know. You’ll figure it out.
(You’re only talking to yourself anyway.)
Today was a napping-all-day kind of day because last night I tried to sleep without chemical assistance.
Last night I tried to sleep without chemical assistance because I had today off from work and had come to the (seemingly logical) conclusion that it wouldn’t really matter how late I slept in or how utterly mindfucked a night of broken sleep was sure to leave me.
(I have this deep fear of medication and of becoming dependent on chemicals I must regulate from the outside* so sometimes I like to check and see whether whatever new thing I’ve introduced into my system is something I can do without by force of will or simply forgetting I “need” it. This is why I tend not to seek diagnosis and/or treatment for anything until I think there’s some danger I might die otherwise.**)
Point being, last night was the first night in a long series of nights in which I did not take melatonin—which is apparently a prescription med in the UK but here in the States it’s considered “a nutritional supplement” and is therefore OTC.***
- stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep;
- woke every so often, aware of having slept but unable to claw my way back to Sleep and stared at the ceiling some more;
- had that thing happen where you’re asleep but also simultaneously aware of lying awake while the dreamthings start forcing their way in through the cracks in your consciousness (it’s not lucid dreaming because you’re not dreaming and it’s not really being awake because even though you are not-asleep things are ever so disconcertingly not-real).
The overall lesson, I think, being that I need to get better at remembering to take pills.
[ETA: Aaand here I am at Officially Past My Bedtime If I Want 8 Hours Of Sleep Before Work and I’m all jittery and too anxious to sleep because I hate my job, I hate my life, I hate this place, ohgodwhy, etc, etc, blah, etc. (either that or it’s the too-much caffeine I’ve been mainlining all day in between naps (I swear it made sense at the time)).]
*At least part of this is due to a poor ability to keep habits; I can’t even remember to take a multivitamin half the time and that’s something I’ve been attempting to remember to do for at least the past 10 years.
**DON’T DO THIS. I am a horrible example of… most things, really.
***I’ve no idea what to make of that (philosophically, politically, et al.), other than to thank the Universe for whatever small mercies it sees fit to give.
I thought I was slipping into another depressive episode* and I was like But! But I just got out of one of these! Not fucking fair! until I realized that what is actually going on is that I am sad because someone I care about is moving away.
I am having an actual emotional response to a situation I’m experiencing, instead of shutting down. (Holy reasonable reaction, Batman?)
It’s kind of interesting to feel sad and raw instead of just being numb all the time and trying to remember how to fake the right emotions for the benefit of everyone around me. It feels… normal? [Edit: What do I know about normal? But this does feel strangely (comfortingly?) human.]
The upshot is that I now have an invitation the fuck out of here. And I intend to take it.
PROJECT ESCAPE HATCH [REVISED AND ALSO NOW ALL ROMAN NUMERAL-Y]
Phase I: Get a job
Phase II: Work ALL THE OVERTIME
Phase III: When my department closes, get into the department with commissions
Phase IV: Work ALL THE OVERTIME and sell ALL THE THINGS
Phase V: Save money
Phase VI: Get office skills via a quickie online degree/certifications/whatever
Phase VII: Fucking bail on this place***
*Full disclosure: I prefer the phrase “depressive episodes” instead of “I have depression” because I’ve never been diagnosed/prescribed pills/tried to kill myself/etc. I either cope well enough that I feel like I can manage it or else I’m in too deep to be bothered with making an effort to change anything. Ironic?**
**I’m fairly sure I’m misusing irony here.
***Yes, technically my plan is “move across the country to be closer to another person.” Yes, I’ve done this before. Yes, it ended horribly. The difference is that this time I think I can figure out if we’re terrible together and then successfully get out without it taking six fucking years. (I’m not bitter about that. At all. Yes I am.)