I’m trying to make progress. It’s slow going.I managed to get all of the dishes done. I even managed to wash the dishes after dinner last night instead of letting them languish in the sink.
I got the sheet back on my bed. I put the cases back on the pillows. They’ve been off for weeks now. A few weeks ago, that stupid cough came back with a vengeance and it was triggering vomiting if I ate. So foolishly I ate and then laid down a few hours later. As soon as I did, I started coughing. And then I didn’t make it to the bathroom before vomiting. I left the sheets off my bed until I was sure I wasn’t going to get sick again. But then I couldn’t find the motivation to put them back on.
I got most of the apartment cleaned up. The porch part with the washing machine is still a mess. But at least I don’t have to see that all the time. I’ve done my laundry and hung it up to dry. So now I need to move it into the wardrobe.
I’m trying to take a lesson from our favorite chimp. I’m trying to tackle just one thing at a time. It’s the only way I’m going to get things done.
I’m trying not to let the depression and anxiety get the best of me. If I can get up and make it to work and not kill someone during the day, then it’s been a fairly good day. If I can manage to get one decent meal into my stomach, then it’s been a fairly good day. If I can get to bed before 3 AM, then it’s been a fairly good day.
Just one thing at a time. Just one moment at a time. No looking to the future. Just focusing on the present.
I’m talking about birthdays.
Yesterday was my 32nd birthday. I’ve spent the last couple days trying to deny that October 20th even exists on the calender. I sat there thinking how much I wish I had never been born. And how many times I heard a parental unit say that they wished I had never been born. Or I was a mistake. Or whatever.
I really did want to have a good birthday. I asked the other foreign teachers if they wanted to go out to dinner Friday night. And we did. We went to Outback for dinner and then a nice bar afterwards for drinks. Dinner was OK. But the bar was too much for me. Too much noise. I ended up leaving before everyone else with the excuse that the smoke was irritating my allergies. If it had just been dinner it would have been OK. But two teachers showed up Friday morning with balloons and flowers. And the other teachers brought a gift in the evening. As bad as it sounds, I’m planning on regifting the candles they got me. I couldn’t have them around without associating them with my birthday.
I wonder how much my birthday has to do with this constant low level depression I’ve had. I seem to get this way every year. Back when I was in grad school and working with a psychologist, I spent every single birthday in his office.
I certainly don’t see anything worth celebrating about my life. In fact, the suicidal thoughts and SI urges have gotten stronger this weekend. I spent the bulk of Saturday in bed. I would sleep for about 4 hours, get up, take an Ativan, and repeat the pattern. I had no desire to face life. Today has been slightly better. I managed to get up and check my email. Then I went back to bed. I managed to get up again around 2 and get to the doctors and the grocery store (nice little clinic they have in Lotte Mart). My allergies have been so bad, I have a completely clogged right ear. I can’t hear a thing out of it. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have an ear infection to go along with everything else. I only lasted about 20 minutes in the store itself. Too crowded. Too bright. Too loud. You all know the drill. That’s why I took a list with me. That way I could get what I needed and get out.
I really need to clean up the apartment. I have a pile of dirty dishes. I have a load of laundry just waiting for the washer to be turned on. I need to put the sheet back on my bed (it popped off during a nightmare a few days ago). Heck, eating would be a start. I think the last proper meal I had was Friday night at dinner. I’m not sure when the previous one was.
With all the sleep I had this weekend, you’d think I wouldn’t be tired. But I am. I know that I’ve been having nightmares again. But they’re the ones I just don’t remember. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I did remember them. At least I could get them outside of my head. As it goes right now, I just wake up terrified or in a panic. Trying to deal with the resulting anxiety is sometimes more than I can take. I just get on the computer and wander around the internet, never really finding anything helpful or interesting.
I want to hide. I don’t want to deal with the real world. I don’t want to see my students (I ran into one at the store, sigh). I don’t want to worry about presentations (they’re next Saturday).
This is today’s Peanuts. And, well, it pretty well sums up everything.
I just feel so blah. Nothing gets me excited. I used to get joy out of learning or figuring out something new to do with my computer. And I just learned something new this past week. I actually got it working late last night. I should be excited. I should be happy. I should be proud of myself. My tutor didn’t do nearly as much hand holding as he has in the past. This time he gave me an example and told me to write my own configuration file. I did and it didn’t work right the first time. Nothing bad happened. Well, nothing disastrous that would require reinstalling the entire operating system. I did lose a couple hours of logging messages. But when I emailed my tutor back, he just said look at the shared scripts section of the example. He then pushed me out of the nest to go do it on my own (I was half hoping he’d fix it for me). So I went and fixed what was wrong. At least I think I fixed it. I’ll know at about 4 AM if what I did fixed things. Oh, and if you want a certain feature to actually function, it’s a good idea to actually spell the command for said feature correctly in the configuration file.
Work is the same way. I go to class. I drill the preschoolers on their songs and poems and plays. I go to lunch. I come back and drill some more. I take a quick break and then I start teaching again. I teach all sorts of math. We played a game (math basketball) in one of my classes today. It should have been a lot of fun. At least the kids seemed to have fun. I didn’t. I just wanted the class to end because that meant that I was one class closer to being finished for the day.
But what do I do at the end of the day? I come home, make dinner and veg out in front of the TV or on the computer. I know I should go out and experience the city some. It’s not like I live in the middle of nowhere. I live in a fairly large urban area. But getting out in public is so overwhelming right now. Grocery shopping is a major chore. It’s been so hard, I’ve skipped it the last two weeks and have picked up bread, milk and eggs at the little tiny shop across the street from my apartment.
The lack of groceries in the house hasn’t been so bad because I basically don’t have an appetite. I get a bottle of vitamin drink in the mornings before work and that’s breakfast. I half heartedly eat lunch at work. If it smells really bad, I close the door to the teachers’ offices and just sit in the dark. Dinner is hit or miss. Sometimes it’s toast. Sometimes I’ll cook some frozen fish or whatever. I must be losing weight because one of my students said something to me about it the other day.
I’m tired. Plain and simple. I’m tired. It’s to the point where I’m thinking about going to the doctors and seeing if I can get back on an antidepressant of some kind. I’ve always told myself that going back on meds wouldn’t be the end of the world. I’ve been lucky to make it almost two years without them. But it’s all talk. Because it really does feel like a failure. Like I said, it’s just an idea I’m entertaining. I’d have to figure out what time the clinic opens. I could go before work if it opens before 9 AM. Otherwise, the only day I really have enough time to do it is on Wednesday afternoon. And even then, it might be cutting things close. I only have an hour between finishing my preschool classes and starting my elementary ones (I usually only have 10 minutes).
I’d really kill for a decent nights sleep. I toss and I turn. I have nightmares. When I’m not having nightmares, I wake up with my heart racing and every nerve standing on edge. And that’s pretty much it. I’m up for at least an hour while I try to convince myself that everything is really OK. That nothing bad has happened in the last 30 minutes nor will anything bad happen in the next 30 minutes.
Where did these SI urges come from all of a sudden?
I’m tired. Yeah. But that certainly doesn’t completely explain them. The flashbacks have been somewhat quieter. The nightmares have gone down to a dull roar. So what’s up then? Why now?
It’s not that hard to resist them right now. I’ve got some fairly good coping skills in place. And those skills are working well. I’m keeping my hands and mind busy with the computer. It’s damn near impossible to cut while typing things like what I did earlier. And all the while, I was saying prayers to the Linux gods that they would bless my noobish efforts on installing a script and using it.
cp newlog /usr/local/bin
ls | grep boinc.log
ls | grep boinc.log
Yeah. It makes my head hurt too. But the Linux gods were smiling down on me.
So it’s the whole not knowing where the urges are coming from that bugs me. Sometimes it feels like I end up chasing my own mental tail. I tend to over analyze everything. There are times when I wish I could be more like a duck. Just let everything roll right off my back.