Half life

Today was not horrible. (If you discount my utter disgust and fury with a female driver who nearly plowed into me at the gas station because she was staring straight ahead instead of looking where she was going.) I had to leave at one, so the time I was at the shop, I got shit done. Being productive and kept occupied felt good.

I think the whole half day thing works well for me. I told him maybe I need to start doing that, and he is not conducive, because, ya know, he’s super achiever and cannot grasp the concept that some of us are not. Some of us need to take baby steps to be at optimal performance. It was less taxing, I even was able to go out later in the day with Spook to pay the internet bill and get a few things. I had more energy, less depression, less anxiety.

Of course, it’s now 7 pm and in spite of the day’s full dose of tic-tac-o-pin, I am starting to stress. Anxiety creeps up on me like a ninja, I sometimes don’t see it coming. The job lady even called my damn dad’s house because I haven’t returned her call. It’s been two days, ffs. Which got my dad in a tizzy that maybe just maybe I found a job. I didn’t have the balls to tell him I am going to drop out of the program for awhile, see if I can become more stable, get my head on straight. He’s another one who doesn’t think mental shit is legitimate. Gotta suck it up, ya know.

I’ve spent 18 months sucking it up and trying to be what everyone thinks I should be. It’s kicking my ass.  I need to take a step back and do what is best for myself, and even the counselor seems to agree it’s not a bad idea in light of all the med problems of late.

It wouldn’t be so bad if this job program were actually designed to target jobs within the capabilities of someone with my conditions. It doesn’t though. Applying for jobs I may have experience doing but no stability in keeping and managing the stress of seems counter productive. I understand I am not educated, I have a spotty if not horrible work history. (My work was good, my stability was not, seems that matters more.) I don’t think taking a step back at this time is a sign of me giving up. I need to regroup and make sure my feet are under me. Working from home would be the idea thing, and yet, those jobs seem to be like magical unicorns. Mythical.

Blah, I will call her back when I work up the nerve and inclination. She talked to my counselor, she should get the hint. But noo, let’s harass the crazy person. That always makes it better, especially calling my emergency contact number and getting them all worked up that I might become gainfully employed. That pisses me off.

Now, it’s the day before check comes in and bills must be paid. I had a high power bill so I am stressing all that. My car is nearing the E mark. That makes me nervous. I have like 40 minutes talk time on my cell. That makes me nervous. I am doing the math of all that I need to pay versus what I need to get through the month on kid, pet, and household supplies…It makes my brain hurt.

I want to write but that blank page and blinking cursor taunt me. I suffer through each day, waiting for the chance to write…And by then I am so tapped out from dealing with all the stressors of reality, I have nothing left for my fiction, which is my life’s blood. If I didn’t write, I do believe I would die. Some of my worst depressions have followed a writer’s block. Pretty sure writer’s block was created by the devil. Who else could be so sadistic as to give you a talent yet render you unable to use it?

I was doing okay. Now I am not. Which is akin to what I told R earlier when I was being super productive and pleasant and helpful. Remember how I awesome I was today because tomorrow I may suck.

It is what it is.

Two notes of quirk.

I watched the first episode of season one of The Vampire Diaries simply because I have watched everything else. It was like Twilight, but with a little more balls. I’m still undecided because it does soo reek of Twilight. Which I still don’t think was as bad as everyone made it out to be. It was written for teenagers, ffs, were you expecting the great american novel? And in all fairness, I made it through the Twilight books. I couldn’t get two thirds through Catcher in The Rye before the boredom made me want to stab my eyeballs out with bbq skewers.

Quirk two…They were selling the shamrocks at the gas station for some cause, muscular dystrophy or something. I donated a dollar and wrote Wednesday 13 on it. The cashier burst into laughter when I was leaving. Not sure if it’s because he knows who Wednesday is (doubtful) or if it’s because everyone puts their kid’s name on it, instead of something like that, but whatever. I made someone laugh.

Goes to show I am a seriously devoted Wednesday 13 fan.

Now…to try and rid myself of the anxiety and this depressive mood that is coming in like a storm cloud that was not forecast. This usually entails just slithering off to bed but I think I am going to try to fight it off. I had a decent day. No need to let fucked up brain chemicals ruin it. Yet  they almost always do. If nothing else, maybe I can force myself into the shower. Not something I relish when it is cold out.

So…it was a half day of good before the crash.

Half life.

It’s a start, I guess.




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