I've been meaning to make this post for a few weeks. Actually, probably about a month. The short bullet points are:
- As I believe I mentioned previously, my neurochemical imbalance, colloquially referred to as "depression," has decided it really doesn't like behaving itself despite the rather substantial regimen of drugs I've been on for the last year or so, so my functionality as a human being has been substantially decreased.
- Due to above, work on the mini-project is currently on hiatus, because, while I was willing to let Pleasures slide a little, nowhere near this much, so my functional "work" time will be going there.
- I have less "functional" time in general so things will probably still be slow, I'm sorry. It's about two months until I can get to a psychiatrist, and probably at least 1+ months after that before I can hope to really get my head screwed back on straight, so while it should be better than it has been since New Years, productivity may remain kind, ahem, depressed for a while.
Boom! That's everything you need to know. Now, a bit below here I'm going to get all Live Journal on us and go over the events that finally lead to me getting up the energy to put this together, because I'll find it cathartic.
I'd recommend not reading it, though. Ultimately, I am here as an entertainer, and I doubt hearing (or reading) me go on about how much my life sucks blah blah blah will be that entertaining. Unless you just happen to like my word choice or something.
Still here? Well, okay then.
I'm currently rather upset. A frustrated sort of upset, which honestly is almost a plus. These days it can be nice to be angry because it makes things different. Because you feel something. This all started about last Saturday, when I realized that I hadn't left the house since the previous Monday. I see my therapist on alternate Mondays. Joy. So I figured, I should get out of the house, go on a little walk, sit down to eat somewhere, just... Be exposed to the outside world a bit. I hear that's sometimes good for my particular condition. So I decided I'd go out Monday.
[SPOILER ALERT] Fun fact! I got out of the house today for the first time (not including a little jaunt across the courtyard to do my laundry). How so? Ah, let us read on (if we are so foolish) and discover!
I did not, in fact, get out of the house on Monday. Didn't have the energy. I convinced myself to get out of bed... And then when I started to get a rash from failing to get out of the bath that pushed me onwards and then... Well if you forced me to make a list of what I did on Monday, there'd be some video games interspersed with "Stared ineffectually at computer screen" or "Closed eyes stressed out as suddenly felt on the verge of crying." My depression is cute like that, the feeling drained comes standard, obviously, but a lot of the time it doesn't really make me feel sad, per se, instead it gives me the very physical impact of being close to tears. I highly recommend it to people who enjoy being uncomfortable and stressed! IE: Almost no one.
But okay, I'm accustomed to having to give up on my plans for a day because I failed to become a semi-functional human being until 5 in the evening. I figured, tomorrow, I'd feel better, maybe get some more sleep (getting like 10 hours helps sometimes. If I can actually remain unconscious that long. There's a coin flip. And a half), and... Feel extra miserable. Got up, even out of the bath way earlier! So successful! And then... Nothing. Really nothing. Sit in front of computer. Open web page. Pause. Read web page. Take half an hour to read not especially long web page. Open game. Play game for five minutes. Become disinterested in game. Repeat.
Being already a bit angry it's really super frustrating looking at my days laid out like that, seeing them just wasting away in retrospect.
But hey! It's fine, I'll take a double dose of my sleeping pills (I have occasional intense insomnia. My previous psychiatrist tossed some mild ones at me just because smoothing out my sleep schedule is good, obviously), and I'll be better rested and ready to take on...
Did you sett that parenthetical about intense insomnia? Yeah, when it peaks sleeping pills are meaningless. Honestly, I hadn't had any issues with it in like 3 months. Depression was king of the house, and unreasonable amounts of energy could get wrecked!... Or not. With the double dose of sleeping drugs I got an astonishing... Four hours of sleep! And, this may surprise you, while getting lots of sleep sometimes helps mitigate my issues, you know what getting almost nooooooo sleep does?
Intersperses your dismal day with half hour segments of thinking about whether or not the pain of cutting yourself would be a pleasant distraction.
To be entirely serious for a moment, I do not, in fact, cut myself or anything of the sort. Over the course of, functionally, 4 (not entirely consecutive) years of dealing with depression, only twice have I ever even came close, and in both cases I more just kind of scratched myself... Or, well, in one of them, gave myself a slight friction burn. My depression likes to stress me out by reminding me of ways to make it go away, as it were, but it turns out that, so far, I'm too smart/together/whatever to find that persuasive.
So write Wednesday off. Lost cause. Worst day in weeks.
Today, though, I felt... Oooookay. Still got gypped a little sleep, but not enough to make me excessively dysfunctional. Managed to get out, just sort of... Relax out, chill on my computer, honestly a lot of the same "Webpage, whatever..." stuff as usual but more engaged and just... More exposed to other surroundings rather than sitting in a corner of my studio where I've sat day after day with depression kicking my ass. Changing seating location can have an overall positive effect.
Though, annoyingly, even having a nice day out is pretty draining. Feeling pleasant and normal takes effort even when I don't notice it, so when I got ready to leave I just felt kind of... Eh, tapped out. It's not a horrible feeling, it's just, I mean, I'm sure everyone feels that "Whelp, done everything productive I'm going to do today, better just relax a bit and then go to bed." (Partially because, and this is sadly true, having a good day out is set about with little pangs of anxiety about "What if I stop being functional and have a break down now?" and the last thing I want to add to my pile of nonsense is some mutant form of agoraphobia, so I need to cut that crap out right now.)
Aha! You may ask, if I am so drained, however am I managing this?
Well funny story.
A very slight bit of context: I don't drive. No car, nothin'. No driving. No big deal, though, basically anything I want is within a 2 mile walk, and I can almost always use the exercise. (Despite the lack, I've been losing a decent bit of weight lately. Hell, I can't even wear some of my looser pants without a belt period. So at least I don't have body image issues to worry about. Of course, the fact that it's a result of making food being too much of a pain in the ass to do sometimes likely makes that bad, but hey, fuck it, silver linings and all that)
So, I get packed up, ready to head home in the evening and discover... TA DA! It's raining. Good news! It's not raining super hard, like not "Step outside and get drenched." Bad news! The rain is cold as hell, and is stiff enough it almost feels like sleet, AND is being blown, by the wind, straight into your face because obviously the wind is coming from the direction you want to walk because that's how your evening is going now fuck you.
No, world, fuck you.
Oh, also, some genius decided to take the umbrella out of the bottom of my bag. And whoever they are, they are an asshole. (Yes it was me. I'm trying to make this at least a little amusing. Laugh, damn it.) (And now on today's episode of: How to tell someone is trying too god damn hard.)
So, obviously, making the walk home is a highly undesirable activity. Howeverrrrr I have a back up system! The bus line! Ah the magic of civilization.
Of course, civilization is generally a bit of a dick. I'm sure you've all noticed. But what it comes down to is the only bus that heads from where all the stuff worth doing is back towards my place isn't one in especially high demand and therefore has laaaaarge gaps in its schedule. But hey, standing with my back to the wind rather than walking into it is an improvement, right?
Well, actually, yes. And the ten or fifteen minutes I spent standing there was less time than it would've taken to walk home, but I can't recommend it anyways. Also, my jacket was waaaayyy too light to not be moving to get some of that 'ole body heat going so I'm still feeling that wonderful chilled to the bone feeling riiiiight now! Discomfort is just my FAVORITE these days. Or at least it better be. Otherwise I might be seriously unhappy.
Oh also a block and a half from my complex the bus had a five minute layover because, and I may have mentioned this previously, fuck you.
And so here I am. Frustrated with the day, with the world, with the continued rotation of the planet and water cycle that creates rain, with just... That abstract "everything," where you couldn't point to many things particular and go "That, that right there is what is frustrating me," but you could wave your hands, and look upon all you survey and go "This is frustrating me." And, as it turns out, as a bonus, frustrated with myself for going weeks without really getting anything done. And not just in terms of writing, just in terms of... Anything.
Hell, "I designed a character and got pretty far in [Salt and Sanctuary/Dark Souls/Insert Reasonably Challenging Game With Character Customization Here (actually please do, my computer won't run DSIII, I've very much completed DS, and I've started to go full gimmick with my DSII builds [My last full run was double Smelter Swords. Somehow this rather petite, yet ripped, lady in a sorceress tube top and slit dress turned out to be one of the most ungodly powerful characters I've ever made. Like she just walked through stuff I tend to have trouble with. Also pretty explosions])] today" is something I feel moderately satisfied with at the end of the day because at least I can point to something and say "I spent X hours doing that, I accomplished something." "Something that matters?" "It was something and that is what matters, overly judgy person who has somehow invaded my rant."
And it turns out a high enough level of disgust, personal and otherwise, and semi furious dissatisfaction is functional motivation to actually do something. In this particular case vent about my recent experiences for like 1.6 k words (... Man that would've been a passage or three if I'd been doing something more constructive with this...).
And really, ultimately, that's probably what this is, venting, expelling some of the bile so as to reach catharsis. I don't talk to people much (See: "Suddenly noticed hadn't left house in almost a week.") and when I do I certainly don't tell them about this sort of thing. Hell, so long as non-family members who know me "In the real lives" are aware I've got nothing unusual going on. So here, on my most professional publishing weblog ever, I'm apparently just throwing some of my negativity at the screen and hitting the post button because I have problems.
And if you're reading this: Jeez, at least whatever my problems are they can't be as bad as yours. Who'd voluntarily go through all of that? I do know a pretty good psychologist if you feel you need the help.
- Melphiess Vice
