Marbles for everyone

12/5/12 12:13 PM

I’m 31 years and 8 months old. I’m 5’3” and I weight 151 pounds.

Last time I was in Harrisburg for a week of work, I somehow grew up. It felt as if I had my emotions in control for the first time. I stopped poking K for attention. I started being honest and not hinting. I felt mature. I started to say things and wonder where they had come from. The changed surprised me as much as K and the people around me. I felt peaceful.

I couldn’t explain it. Only speculate. It was the first time I had a few days away from home by myself. I could focus on me. But I wasn’t trying to change, it just happened.

I’m back in Harrisburg at the same hotel and it’s Wednesday. I realized that I’ve been taking care of myself more than I have in quite awhile. Gym twice, eating healthier, not drinking myself into a lonely stupor. I’m not sleeping well but I’m working on it. Not drinking caffeine before bed, not going to bed drunk.

I guess Harrisburg is my city of change.

And it’s come just in time. I noticed my pants getting tighter and then I started getting worried about putting on my wedding ring. Then my pants wouldn’t close. Then my cholesterol came back as 245. It’s high. Way high. I had enjoyed months of not making myself guilty about food, or drink, and not exercising. I had been pissed off at the gym for not giving me results.

So on Monday I got on the treadmill for the first time since Sept 19^th. Wow. 3 months. I started at my normal pace and realized I couldn’t run more than 20 minutes. It was defeating. How far I’d fallen! Today’s 30 min on the elliptical was better.

I know I can get back to where I was. I know it. I just need to commit in a positive manner, not commit by burdening myself with guilt and putting myself down.

I’m going to do it maturely this time.   

Being bipolar sucks

I just poured myself my third drink. It's 8:49p on a Wednesday night. I had to look up what day it was because I've lost track. To be very honest, I thought it was October already. It is not.

I'm drinking because I found my hand shaking and my eyes watering without my control. I am drinking to calm myself down. To not hate myself right now. To use that juice my mom gave me.

He's driving home right now. I am ashamed that I had a drink or 3 even though it's been awhile. Ever time I need to fix myself I feel guilty.

He thinks I have a drinking problem. He's never come out and said it but I'm not blind. He's made illusions to it and at time not been very subtle.

I don't think I have a problem but then again I'm aware that it's what people say when they do.

It's a viscous circle. Do I quit for a month again to prove it? Is there a certificate that I can get for not being an alcoholic?

How do I explain that it's better than the alternative?

The internet is a bad boyfriend

I’m having trouble dating the internet. The ‘norm’ is that I’m alone from 7:30a – 8:30p. That alone is broken up by bits of cordial small talk. If I’m lucky a half hr of it is taken up by me paying a lot to talk to my personal trainer. But I’m still acutely aware that every sentence counts for more seconds that I’m not working out. It doesn’t pay to talk your way out of push-ups even if she pretends she’d listening. Occasionally I get a quick glimpse of humor interaction like the nice girl who asked if I had a Giant Eagle card she could use yesterday.

No matter how you look at it, most of my day is spent looking at the same screen I’m typing into right now. I check my facebook a million times, and all those stupid meme sites and my homepage more times than I’d like to count. It’s a shallow relationship.

So I started watching Better Off Ted on Amazon. I love the show and it’s illicited the most real laughter in months. The tragedy is that it was only on the air for 2 seasons and in 3 episodes it will be the harshest break up I’ve had for some time. I count on the characters to make me happy when napping and red bull isn’t working.

It’s 10p now and I’m slightly drunk. I’m listening to happy/heartbreaking music and drinking water. K is up in bed, hopefully asleep. He was in a horrible mood when he finally got home. I could see that I couldn’t help him and my inebriated state only irritated him. So I hid downstairs making cookies and now I’m out of things to do. Well, out of energy to do anything productive.

I’ll listen to a few more songs, then partially shower, then sneak into bed and lay awake until I can’t stand it anymore. Then I’ll wake up and do it all again.

Good for the body, bad for the heart

[Monday 7.5]

[Today 8]

The hours of jackhammer outside drove me to plug my hears with headphones and with new sounds much needed I finally downloaded “Handwritten.” I knew I’d wanted to listen to it with headphones in by myself so it would just be my head filled with the music, too selfish to share it with the air. I stuff my eardrums when I was tipsy and sobered up throughout the album.

It was everything I expected, songs that made me jump around a gyrate like I’d never do in public, and songs that made me think, and a song that left my tears racing for the floor.

Right now I’m bouncing on an 8. I want to run, I want to create, I want to punch, I want to sex. Today my passion is bubbling into my throat and I keep choking it back down.

And while I bake cookies and live in the house, I’m sharing with the least ideal person ever. And it helps. I like remembering the girl who ran off to other cities and followed her silly heart. I like remembering the sex that affected nothing and nothing affected it. I like remembering star gazing and wondering if he’ll take my hand.

I like remembering the pain and heartache. I remember it like the feeling of blood running down my arm. The cliché of feeling alive.

Space Olympics

(preface note: Saturday 6.5)

Sunday night at 9:30 and I’m feeling alert and active. The Olympics are on TV and I’m still wonderfully impressed like a child. My amazing husband is beside me and the laptop is between us with NASA TV on. There’s a Mars landing at 1:30 and if I’m on one of my midnight trips to the fridge I might be tempted to log on.

Today’s probably a 7.5. My productivity has been high and so had my mood. I’ve been playful and outwardly in love with everything and everyone. I’d like to hang on like this forever.

My problem will be falling asleep tonight. I want to be up all night working on projects but I need to fall asleep for myself and K.

Tabs don't work

Last night I had a weird dream that my parents were buying a new house and I was looking for a house too? The first house had slanted floors and I had a really hard time standing up. The second house was a mansion and had a waterfall into a swimming pool with gardens all around it inside a big atrium. Also another pool inside (outside?). It was way over their budget but they were going to buy it anyway so we could have parties. To me this didn’t seem like a good idea, we didn’t have anyone to invite and what would happen if they got hurt on the big tile staircase next to the waterfall? I think I talked them out of it. I also revealed that my ex C and I had posed s buyers (broke in) and looked at the house and went swimming in it. My subconscious has been in high gear recently.

Now if only I could convince my metabolism to join it. I pushed it pretty hard this week at the gym and I feel stronger and I’m noticing muscles I didn’t know I had. It’s mesmerizing. However, I gained 2 pounds and I’m visibly lumpier than normal. My nutrition is ridiculously awful. I will eat entire boxes of mac and cheese and not touch a damn vegetable for a week. I hate healthy food and it makes me feel sad. Wendy’s makes me feel happy.

Don’t have the bad food in the house.

Stick to a diet.

Stop eating fast food.

Eat smaller portions.

I know what to do! I just can’t do it! I’ve heard all that cutting calories, fat, sugars, carbs, pesticides and I’d love to. I’d love to sit down to a plate of grilled vegetables and think “This is going to be awesome!” I’d love to feel satisfied after 5 grains of rice and a nice small glass of organic fat free soy milk. But that would require some serious mind reprogramming and I think I left my determination in the fridge with the cookie dough.

Onto other matters. Last night I couldn’t fall asleep. Yesterday gets a 7.5. Yesterday was Friday. So that leaves Thursday as about a 6.5. There I think I’ve got a string going. Let’s see.

Today 8/4: TBD

Friday 8/3:                        7.5

Thursday 8/2:                        6.5

Wednesday 8/1:            6

Tuesday 7/31:                        5

Monday 7/30:                        3.5

Sunday 7/29:                        3

Saturday 7/28:                       

Friday 7/27:

Thursday 7/26:

Wednesday 7/25:               4.5

Tuesday 7/24:                        4

Monday 7/23:                        5.5

Sunday 7/22:                        6

Saturday 7/21:                        6.5

Friday 7/20:                         7

Thursday 7/19:             8.5

Wednesday 7/18:            8

Tuesday 7/17:                        7.5

Monday 7/16:                        6

Well there’s a gap but overall not too bad. Reviewing my blog entries though, I could almost guess what number I was at by my writing style and tone. Well here’s to making today a 6.5!

I'll never be a writer

On Monday night I took a 300er and a 300 rather than a 150. I was feeling desperate. Tuesday I woke up from a good dream. These are so rare. I was happily participating in the Olympics and so was K. It was like waking up being able to breath for the first time. The day got better when I found out that I wasn’t a drunken fuck-up on Saturday night even though I still don’t remember 6 hours. Add in some good news that my trainer can teach me to swim as soon as I get a bathing suit and I was on my way to a good day by 11a. Much of the rest of the day was spent with my sister and that completed it. I was at a perfect 5.

Today is Wednesday, day 2 of taking 300x2, day 2 of good dreams, and I’m tipping a little towards 6 right now. Please don’t think I’m implying that my self-adjustment to my medication is what is causing this. I know that it takes time for medication change to be seen in moods. Just trying to record the facts as well as I can in a rambling narrative that no one reads.

Tipping into 6 has started my mind on all of the projects that

(I get distracted and don’t even finish a sentence and forget to post)

Wishing for a manic monday

Today is Monday. Let’s make all the days between my last blog and today a 4. Maybe yesterday was a 3. I had the biggest, longest, and possibly worst blackout of my life on Saturday. I just don’t know my body anymore. I’m trying to shake it off but the shame is sticking pretty heavy this time.

I’m sinking into a 3 today, the immobility is strong and my unhealthy habits are just as strong. As always I feel trapped and helpless and frustrated. I tend not to write because I hate the broken record I am during these times.

I’ve been thinking a little about tracking down some help. I’d like to be able to be involved in some kind of study. That’s in part to my secret vanity. I think someone should study me.

Now I’m done for now.

Fighting for a 5

Yesterday was a 4. Definitely a 4. Which means I’m missing the key number 5. Where di 5 go? Yesterday started out ok, maybe hovering around a 5 in the morning. Then I went to the gym and got measured. After a year of gym membership and 7 months of personal training and hundreds of dollars that I don’t have anymore, I lost 2 lbs and gained a percentage of fat. I bet I still have high cholesterol too. That led to the feeling that the stress and schedule of my job prevented me from being healthy. That led me to the thought that I’ve given so much of myself to my career and it’s given me nothing but a stress disorder. This made me feel bad. Feeling bad led me to eat half a box of mac and cheese and half a bottle of whiskey and top it off with 2 cheesy gordita crunches. Depression achieved.

I told myself today would be better. I’d wake up with fresh energy and a positive outlook. I didn’t. I woke up confused as to what day it was and where K was and if I’d missed my opportunity to make him coffee. I swung in and out of dreams such as the one where I was pushing my little sister to school on a rolling office chair in the snow. It could have been one of my awful nightmares, but it still didn’t inspire my Wednesday.

So it looks like I’ll be fighting today; fighting my way up to a 5. We’ll see how it goes.

Written on Tuesday, posted on Wednesday

This is called bathroom blogging. I’m sitting on the bath mat, leaning against the tub with my feet up on the pedestool sink. It’s not a bad angle.

I didn’t blog on Saturday or Sunday because I was busy and lazy. Saturday was a great day due to selective memory. We went to the Vintage Grand Prix on Saturday morning to see J and check it out. It always amazes me that one of the few exes that I keep in touch with is the one I dumped hours after I married someone else. Oh he got in a few good jabs, like telling K to wait until we get a few more cars to divorce me but all in all it was fun. Then we headed to E’s first birthday. It was the first event where families were mixed and I just felt a little out of place, ok, maybe more than a little. But D got some jabs in too. It was a mini-ex tour. Then off to the in-laws to conclude all awkwardness with a family dinner with both sets of parents. I will remember the humorous moments but selectively forget K and I at each other’s throats for a minute.

Saturday gets a 6.5. Did I do Friday? I think Friday was a 7. Sunday was a firm 6. More productive but approaching normal.

Today I find myself craving some drinking more than normal with low energy. But I’ve kept moving, maybe a 6 or a 5? I did have a bit of an attitude set back after trying on a majorly unflattering dress and remembering my social obligations for Saturday night. My body image is sinking as the weight I’ve gained back sticks to places I’d never seen them before. I’m also a bit concerned that I’m becoming more anti-social than normal. I’m disliking the busyness of the city more and more.

In other me news, Gaslight Anthem’s album comes out today although we can’t download it until tomorrow. I kind of want to get the album, get in my car and go park somewhere where I can see stars with a flask and listen to the whole thing. I think I’ll fall in love and have my heart broken over and over.

I am complicated math

When you go to sleep at 10:00p, your “middle of the night wake up” happens around 12:30a. I was thinking about how that used to be the time we went to bed and there I was, chugging diet pepsi and eating a failed cookie. When I got back into bed I had a hard time falling asleep. Every sound I heard frightened me that someone was in the house. Nightmares rightfully appeared when I slipped back to sleeping and they were nightmares about home invasion. Nice trick mind, nice trick.

I awoke with an odd pain in my upper right arm. Not a muscle pain, more of a nerve pain. I’ve taken some ibuprofen and it seems to be getting a bit better. It’s quite annoying.

I’d classify yesterday as an 8 or 8.5. It’s a progression of the mood that went into the negative feelings more than the creative positive ones. The graph in my mind may need 3 axis. Manic-Depression, Time, Negative to Positive. This is going to get complicated.

Well now that it’s only 7:06a and I’ve finished checking my daily “time waster” websites, I think I’m going to go back to bed and try to nab an hr more of sleep before starting my day.

Am I lucky?

4:25p

It feels like electricity coursing through my skin. Maybe it is. Electricity generated from anxiety, anger, fear, and every emotion in between that’s filling me up right now. I’m overflowing with no specific goal or target. I can’t calm down. I’m not physically energized, my muscles don’t want to run. There’s no cure right now. There’s nothing to settle me down. I’m not tired, sleep will not ease this. I can physically feel it as I hold my arms in front of me. They aren’t shaking, merely vibrating. I want a drink. What do I do?

8:59p

I realize it’s too late to be eating meatballs with a fork, dipping them in pizza sauce. Wow, it looks even more unhealthy when I type it. (pops another meatball in mouth)

I poorly remedied my recent situation by going upstairs to 3 and watching “American Dad”, “Family Guy”, and “The Simpsons” until 6:30 which is 30 minutes past my approved drinking starting time. I’ve kept to my one drink and hour and it’s not that bad at all. As long as I take 10-15 minutes between drinks I easily stay within my hour. I wouldn’t be in quite as good a mood if I hadn’t gotten a text from K at 6:45p saying he was driving. I immediately got myself together and went to sit on the stoop and wait for him. I had him home a good hour before normal. It meant the world. We had so much more energy and good mood. Not just seeing each other when we’re tired and ready for dinner and bed.

Today was characterized by a lot of mood jumps. I’d go from tearing up at how lucky I was to be alive to screaming death threats at stupid drivers in traffic. Everything was amplified. It led to my 4:25 post and a feeling like there was no pattern at all here.

I feel like I was lucky this time.

Traveling is cooler than a baby

I didn’t get to update last night because I was experiencing an all too familiar sinus headache and wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t even want to go up to 3 because it would be warmer up there and he’d smother me so a quick shower and into bed. It was one of my worst nights of sleep in awhile, I tossed and turned and generally felt sick. One more night of awful sleep.

The rest of the day went well though. Another personal training session in the bag with a bit of cardio, lunch with my mom, cucumber shopping and home. I’d say yesterday was an 8.6 because I experienced another symptom. Fear. Just thinking about death in any form can reduce me to short breath, heart pounding and tears. I identified this as one of the reasons for day drinking when I’m up like this. Walking around in fear of the inevitable future is miserable.

I’d also check off “cries easily” on my future check list to track myself. Happy stories choke me up. More than a normal human. This is also miserable but can be escalated by alcohol if I pass a certain point. Then I start thinking about myself and all the floodgates let loose.

In other morning news: Children cost $30,000 the first year they’re alive. I think I’ll just save up for cool camera equipment and vacations. Think of all the vacations and camera stuff we could have!

Will it be an 8?

This morning there’s no time to go back to bed since we were able to sleep a half hour later for K’s schedule. I had a whole big bagel for breakfast and I think I’ll probably regret that at the gym.

Last night I got up in the middle of the night. It’s not unusual, actually it’s unusual to sleep through the night. It’s been this way for months. There’s a lot of research to back up the statement that sleep has a dramatic impact on mood and performance during the day. I feel like I start every day off a little bit crippled by my poor sleep.

To take a quick detour about sleep. Last night was the first night that I couldn’t fall asleep. I had a lot of projects in my mind and I wanted to get up and write them down at least. It’s a classic symptom of the slope into mania. I’d place myself at an 8 yesterday and a 7 the day before. We’ll see if we slope up today or hover around 8. I’d love to chart this to discover patterns but unless I’m over a 6, I don’t have a lot of motivation to keep that going. Just another project that would end in disappointment. All I can do now is take the focus and the energy and make a hard push to get some things done!

I’ll ramble about sleep patterns more later, I’m sure.

Evening spirits

My spirits are high right now. Today started with the omelet and moved into a sweaty session at the gym. Undeniably I am not in very good shape but I know if I work at it, I can get better. I putz away a bit of of the afternoon before hiking 1.25 miles down to the Andy Warhol Museum to meet Justin and his beautiful wife Roxy. She teaches elementary school art and really enjoyed being there. I’ll admit to a few third-wheel moments but overall it was lovely to get out. The walk was a bit hot in the 95 degree weather and it gave me a headache but I felt good at clocking another 2.5 miles to my workout.

Tomorrow I’ve got personal training, lunch with my mom (checking up on me) and then some meatballs to make.

Oh an I want to try some blotting drawings like Andy Warhol did. Need to find my tracing paper!

 

Leftover omelette

This morning I woke up to K’s uncomfortable alarm. He snoozed and as my mind lingered between sleep and awake I thought about how to cook a pepper omelette for breakfast. After the second (or third) snooze, I headed for the kitchen with a dream plan. I was being so instantly productive that I said the “not-so-awake” line, “Why am I moving so fast? What do I think I am? A race car driver… of my legs?” It’s ok. I didn’t know what I meant either.

I’ve got personal training at 9:30a. It’s an appointment; a plan and I can’t miss it. Then I’ve got the third floor to straighten up and the possibility of an afternoon museum trip.

But I’ve got to cut this a bit short if I’m not going to be rushed.

Easy Monday

Things I must get used to: My mom calling me every day to see how I am.

            She can feel when I’m unhappy and knows when I’m unsettled. She doesn’t always have an answer and often times says the exact opposite but I know she loves me more than anything and that she needs to hear my voice as much as I need to hear hers.

: The drinking rules on the fridge.

            No drinking before 6p. No more than one drink an hour. Both are written on the $1 white board on the side of the fridge. I wrote them. I wrote them down around 6:05p, right before I poured myself a small glass of wine.

It was a good day. I wish I could feel as if I had something to do with it but I think I’m just swinging upwards. As much as it should thrill me, it makes me feel just as bad as when I swing down without cause. It’s just another case of me not being in control.

But I’ll take it. I’ll take the cleaned bedroom and clean loads of laundry. I’ll be happy with the stuffed peppers and garlic bread and I’ll dream about my little fluppets making their way into a craft-o-tron machine someday.

A morning start

A routine is a good way to combat the beginnings of daytime depression. If there’s a schedule and a plan then you don’t get as bogged down with “all the things that need done.” I have to try to avoid the paralysis of having so many things to get done that I can’t begin any of them. I often end up napping or eating at that point.

Knowing this, I still didn’t start today with a plan or routine because the opposite side is the guilt from not being able to follow or complete the goals you’ve set yourself. Often the first day is filled with everything you should be able to do. I mean, the day is wide open, of course I can clean the entire house and spend 3 hours on errands!

Instead I’m using some of the inherent morning energy to try out some things. Small task around the house, small breakfast and blogging, then back to housework. Maybe housework til lunch? We’ll see.

I can’t say I’ve been terribly successful but I don’t expect much from myself today. I putz around for an hour and went back to bed for an hour, and instead of blogging during breakfast I looked at a website list of the 15 craziest Halloween costumes. But it’s only the beginning and there’s still some hope left in the morning sun.

Made it through a Sunday

It was good to ease into a new way of living on a Sunday. Sunday’s are slow lazy days and there’s no guilt, even the liquor stores aren’t open. I finished a menu for next week and K and I successfully battled the gridlocked Giant Eagle and only surfaced missing a few items. Dinner was ok with our typical baked chicken strips popping with a bit of curry and hand-ground cumin.

I got some inspiration from a stop-motion animator named Kirsten Lepore and glued some eye balls onto a new Fluppet.

I’m adjusting my thinking to a person who doesn’t have any money to buy anything. Truth is, I’ve only got a couple hundred in the bank and as it stands, no prospects for work. I think I might take a week to myself and then hit it hard. But at least for awhile, I need to just delete those groupons and sales e-mails and stick to doing things that don’t cost money and reusing when I can.

It’s a different balance in our house now, this is the first time he’s had a good steady long(ish) term job and I’ve been unemployed. I’m looking into the future at some challenges that will hit us. Me feeling bitter and resentful about his great career. Me going crazy by myself. Me drinking to not think about things. Ok, maybe those are all MY problems. We’ll see…

It's a new day

It’s 8:20a on a Sunday morning. It’s the first time I’ve sat down to write in months. The last couple months buried under a stress filled drunken haze. There were beautiful highlights like our perfect wedding with family and friends and bubbles and love every way you turned. Even that day could not over power how I had been slowly losing myself for a year, maybe two.

I quit my job on July 5^th, 10 days ago. I was given 4 tickets to the Pirates game that night by the HR representative on the board. Then I cleaned the house and went on our family vacation. We returned early yesterday and I spent that day recovering from a stressful vacation. Today I’m on the couch. I’m only wearing underwear. I’m 31. I’m unemployed. My calendar is empty. I don’t feel lost but I don’t feel optimistic either. There’s a lot to do. A lot I’ve always wanted to do. But there’s also three grand on my credit card.

Where do you start when your life changes so suddenly of your own accord? How do you reconcile jumping without a net? How will I stave off the inevitable craze of being home alone with myself? Who am I and what am I doing?

Sylvia didn't understand

To the best of my memory, which isn’t very good right now, it started about a week ago, on April 8^th. I start noticing it when the days feel lighter. There’s less hate and anger inside. Then the more common and noticeable signs show up. I talk a lot. I don’t need to sleep. I’m productive and focused. My appetite is low. My sex drive is high. Timing wise I think I stopped biting my nails 3 week ago. I’m hoping someday I can map everything so I can see the warning signs. I like graphs and charts and lists of data. I like organizing and rearranging. It’s data collection I’m no good at.

He writes computer programs sometimes for fun. He’s working on a task management program right now. I’ve thought about doing some research and forming a program to keep track of signs and feelings and moods. Then it could be an app. Maybe it could help more people than just me. Maybe I’m unqualified for this. I’m not a doctor. I only know myself. But I could read more… study.

The essential problem is getting me to input and input accurately. Sometimes it’s clear how I’m feeling but that’s not the majority of the time. Most of the time I don’t notice where I’m at until I’ve been there for awhile. And depression stops you from doing a lot of daily routines, keeping track of moods would definitely be one of the first to go, right behind flossing.

Yesterday we watched Sylvia. It was on our netflix list because I was on a Gwenyth Paltrow kick and Danial Craig was an added bonus. It was about Sylvia Plath who I knew very little about before the movie. In the beginning of the movie, I turned to him and said “We should be poets. We should rent a cabin on the water and write poetry all summer.” He cautioned me that the ending of the movie might not be as romantic. He was right. She was tormented by herself and ended up taking her own life. Today I’ve spent most of my free time internetting her and her family. It lead me to the connection between her and bipolar disorder. It was apparent in the movie but I still looked it up.

I get very serious when I see movies portraying characters with bipolar. It’s like I need to look around to see if anyone is watching my reaction. It’s a feeling that normal people won’t understand, only I will. It’s also a feeling that I want to keep it close to me. I want to digest all there is. I’ll probably start buying up Sylvia Plath’s books soon. Then the biographies.

Maybe I’ll even scribble down some secret poetry.

Omni Focus Stole My Brain

I have been using Omni Focus for quite awhile. Since right after I read Getting Things Done. It helps me function and not worry as much and there's no crumpled pieces of paper lying around with lists on them.

Then I got an android phone. No Omni Focus. I started looking for options. Surely there was something equivalent.

Follows GTD theory.
Stand alone computer program.
Android app.
Categories and Projects needed.
Location based reminders are a plus.

WAToDo - Looks ok. No computer component.

Asana - Web-based. Web based can be organized how I need it. Built for team projects. Mobile site accessible to android. Bad app reviews.

Astrid - Web-based. Cute. Good app reviews. No projects or categories. Very basic.

DGT GTD - Android app. Looks a lot like Omni Focus. Updated recently. No computer program. Can sync with Toodledo.

Thinking Rock - Open source. Screen shots look horrible.

Springpad - More of a "remember" app, no a management app.

Toodledo - Web-based. Doesn't do projects unless you buy premium. Thinking about doing the 7 day trial.

I've been obsessing. I've had a dozen tabs open in my browser all day. I can't find what I need. I'm frustrated. I'm resenting my phone.

So I closed the tabs. I wrote this blog entry. And I'm going to let it go for a day or so. Before my Omni Focus list gets too long!

No Control

Last week I was an excessive drinker who ripped off all of her fingernails. Who saw nothing good in the world or herself. But at the same time didn’t hate how she looked. This week I do hate how I look, drink much less and I’m excessively flirty. Oh and I’ve got 10 fingernails again.

And I’m writing again.

Strong or crazy

This was a 17 hr day and for some unknown reason I am still standing. At my kitchen counter. At my computer. Waiting for the laundry or for a chair to find itself under my rear end. Or a taco. But really, that’s always an option nowadays.

I am at once feeling accomplished and defeated. I successfully ran 3 events today that all went off without a hitch. At the same time I am neither recognized or appreciated for my efforts. My career is headed into a deep dark tunnel and I have no time for all of the pursuits I dream of.

I am still standing. I am either strong or crazy. Or both.

Missing the Pictures

Photos. A camera always around my shoulder. Dangling there waiting to sneak up and catch a moment. It could be anywhere. On a scenic hike. On a scenic road stop. On an odd road stop. In the car. Just packing up at home. Or waiting. Any moment in time held a visual to identify it. I had the tool to grab them and keep them forever. A big jumbled collection of unsortable images. In paper sleeves. In shoe boxes. In totes. In closets. In folders. On hard drives. To revisit. To remember. To cry over. To laugh about.

Now. I see the beauty. I think. I blink. I look away. My hands are empty. It’s gone.

I remember. I wonder. Who was that person with the camera in her small hands? Why did she put it down? Nothing to see? Nothing worth holding on to? To let go of the present?

Can I find it? Pick it up? Rediscover the world? Not feel self conscious? Embarrassed.

Can this world belong to me again?  

Mornings dissolve into poetry

Mornings are the best time. When I see the sun rise on a new day it inspires a positive attitude. But a morning that starts with the dark feeling still lingering in my blood predicts a significant struggle to get through the day. Some mornings I would calm this restless anxiety and feeling of doom with a couple of shots, just to calm down, just to not worry so much. But maybe I shouldn’t…

Last night I watched an 11 yr old piano prodigy answer questions between his stunning performances. He was asked what he likes to do other than play the piano. It’s a question he’s been answering since he entered the spotlight. He started listing things.. sports, school, writing, swimming, playing with his brother. He went on and on. I thought to myself how I would answer the question, “What do you like to do other than work?” Everything I can come up with I miss, I haven’t seen or thought about in weeks or worse, in months.

Writing. I used to like to write but writing takes focus and a clear mind. Writing takes being able to stir around your emotions and take a look at them, reshape them and create something beautiful from them. Every thought and emotion I’ve had recently I’ve wanted to hack out of my heart with a knife.

I’m a bit crazy right now and being smart and crazy is a wicked combination. You know you’re crazy but you can’t do anything about it. Smart people should be able to control themselves. It’s like watching another person.

Recently my mind has sent me back to a place I was a year ago. Same story as many times before, driving too fast, drinking too much, music too loud, no fingernails, and the need to destroy myself. I thought about him many times but when the fuel of my mood met the spark of the song, I reached out to my ex. I wanted to hurt myself, relive the guilt, betrayal, passion, and failure of the time. I didn’t want to go back, I wanted to somehow move forward again.

We sat on the couch and watched TV and petted the cat. We watch hockey and history shows and drank some beers. It was the same as it has been. There was not a single change in him except he seemed more calm towards me. We didn’t have sex. We didn’t fight. I liked him as a person again and he subtly told me he was still in love with me. On one hand it was the boost of self esteem I needed at the moment and on the other I felt guilty for using him to make me feel better. On one hand I hurt him and on the other I hurt K again. If we cancel those out, my goal of hurting myself was accomplished and I got to watch a huge tv with 800 cable channels. I suppose it’s a win, a weak win.

Now K is softly snoring in bed while I sit on the floor and type. These might be the first moments I’ve had with my own mind for awhile. I know that I’ll push down everything that’s happened and go back to grocery shopping and working and running but at the same time there was a sense of emotional urgency that is unique to myself.

I wish I could write poetry or songs, something to remember it all by.  

Gone again

24 hours and then he’s gone again. It’s 11 and I’m not really tired at all. And I want some of the alcohol to kick in so I can feel better. I’ve been on the verge of tears since he stepped out of the car but I can’t seem to even cry. And that? That’s all that’s really on my mind right now. Anything that’s worth thinking about anyway.

Sun inside

I don’t know where exactly the positive energy came from but I can guess. Good workout today. The weather was warmer and breezy and sunny. I didn’t have to go into work until 2p and I’m in a decent place with my workload. I slept ok last night. And more than anything it will only be two days until I can hold my love’s hand. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and I’m looking forward to it more than anything.

He brings balance to my life. Balance and purpose. Peace. The world is not as bright when he’s not near me. He is my everything.

Nothing to say

There is no way to improve myself right now while I’m slogging through this depression. I have gained 2 pounds. I am drinking way too much. I am getting agitated and angry. I am not getting enough done at work. My fingers are a mess. I haven’t updated my comics or my blogs. I’m not sleeping well. I want to cry. I do cry. Nothing helps.

Grazing 5

I’d love to say I’m great right now but that’s not exactly the truth. I suppose I’m a lot better off than some others but in my internal scale of happiness, I’m barely grazing the 5. My sleep had been pretty bad since he left. It’s like my body is looking for any excuse not to sleep. Too hot, too cold, too uncomfortable, need to go to the bathroom, need to get a drink… And that’s after I drag myself away from the nightly marathons of crime TV. My diet? Let’s just say I’m trying to live off of breaded chicken and ranch dressing. My fingernails? Gone. I haven’t seen a decent fingernail on my hand in weeks. My drinking? Constant with a dose of binge. These are all signs of depression. But I thought this should be better. Or is this better? Would I be at home refusing to go to work and eating bags and bags of peanut butter cups?

Something's wrong with my head

I am impatient today. Today and yesterday. Those days make up the last full weekend off for quite a long time. I haven’t been able to shake the stress from last week and I haven’t been able to hide from the stress of next week. I find I’m struggling against a short temper and forcing any productivity. It’s a miserable place to be. To join the party, my forehead headache has come back.

Everything that is making noise is making me angry right now. But I don’t want to go to sleep because then tomorrow will be here. I want to go on vacation. After I’ve gotten all of my to-dos done.

This is not going to end tonight.

It's about time

As I was walking home yesterday I started to think about how content I was with who I am right now:

I am a 30 yr old with a professional career in my chosen field. I live in a beautiful rented house in an historic neighborhood within walking distance from work. I regularly exercise, spin, and play racquetball. I have a personal trainer. I volunteer at the Pittsburgh Center for Creative Reuse and the Carnegie Library Distribution Center. I’m in the process of applying for graduate school. I am engaged to be married May of this year to a loving, strong, intelligent man who is easily my best friend. We enjoy cooking at home and have a membership to the Carnegie Museums. I am close to my family and see them as often as possible. We are all in good health and in good places.

The future is so bright. I never felt better than at this moment.

Not 500 Words

I’m supposed to be writing 500 words as a “statement of intent outlining my career goals.” I doubt that this essay is will fulfill that description.

I only started questioning my career goals recently, when my third job in a row started sinking like the rest of them. Standard symptoms; no acknowledgement, appreciation, companionship, advancement but this time is coupled with a huge loss of faith in my career choice. Maybe the magic has worn off, maybe I was too naïve and young to see it. Entertainment is the same as every other business, just a business. There’s politics and deceit and blindness.

It started out as a joke. I’ll become a librarian. It will be quiet. I can help people. People will leave me alone. It makes sense, I’m the one who always has to google everything. Instant knowledge at my fingertips. Then someone told me they knew someone who left the entertainment building and became a medical librarian. He’s happy and makes decent money. Lots of jobs. Then my boss tells me there’s lot of grant money. I broke down and looked at the local program.

Pitt is #10 of the top ten schools for mlis. It’s ALA accredited and from what I read it’s not worth going to school for the degree if it isn’t ALA. It’s local. Maybe I secretly always wanted to go to a big name school.

I’d always dreamed that my career in another life would be a major in history and minor in architectural engineering. But it seems like I’ve gotten a bit too old for that route. That reminds me that my time is running out. I’m 30.

I’m 30 and the only career that I’ve ever known doesn’t make me happy. The city I’m in doesn’t offer a future in it anyway and there’s not a big chance of us relocating.

My career future seems dark and I’m turning to this option because it seems easy. While reading over my notes from an information center I have written; “Do I lovethis because I’m manic?” I don’t know if this is what I want.

If I can’t convince myself, how am I going to writing 500 words and convince a review board that this is what I want to do with my life? Right now it seems like I would be writing a 500 word fiction. I wonder if it would convince me that it’s what I want.

Right now I can’t even figure out how I’m going to get through tomorrow. Need to exercise. Need to go to work. Need to answer e-mails. Need to catch up. Need to spend time with Kevin.

I just don’t know anything. This is disappointing. I am disappointing.

Morning destroyed by nightmares

Another morning sabotaged by my subconscious. My alarm went off promptly at 5am. The plan was to drag myself to spinning at 5:45a. The instant I woke up I remember something traumatic happened in my dream. I now can’t remember what it was but it shook me up. I was alert but something didn’t want me to get out of bed. Almost like my nightmares calling me back, I snoozed and then reset for 6a in an attempt to make the 6:45a class. But that brief sleep was terrorized by nightmares, this time including child abuse.

It always affects my day and now I’m sitting at my huge desk aimlessly clicking. My goal was to get enough done to leave a bit early but I’m stuck getting nothing done until it’s late enough to give up. What’s wrong with me right now?