Believe it or not, all these damn self-awareness posts that I've been making lately really aren't what I enjoy doing with my time. Sometimes I need to do them to understand my own bullshit. I'm not paying anyone to be my friend for an hour a week at this point, nor am I likely to any time in the near future. So, I'm all the therapist I've got.
What I really like to do is create. But sometimes my life feels like it's been thrown into a blender on pulverize, and that's what it feels like right now. When that happens, I fear that all I'm creating is dreck. I have very little confidence in my abilities as it is, and circumstances like this tend to suck away what little confidence I do have.
I'm thinking about changing my name to Ghostbusters, by the way. Because I'm the one my employer's gonna call whenever other people on the case ain't showing up. They know they can depend on me.
I did something I'm not proud of today. I didn't answer the phone when they called. I knew they needed me to work. I'm sorry I let my patient's family down. However, I ended up working a shift I wasn't scheduled to work yesterday. I had to meet my mother for lunch today, after putting her off for the past couple weeks. I also had to go home (I was at my son's apartment) because I knew my cats were low on water.
I was tired and drained and I didn't want the added stress of saying "no." So I didn't answer the phone.
A couple of other things I've been thinking about lately.
Google Docs sucks. I hate that I can't categorize my stuff the way I like. This is one reason I have multiple blogs. It's easier for me to blog stuff and then go back and cut and paste it into the documents on my external hard drive later.
I don't have the external hard drive with me because I don't want to be hauling around my five pound hog of a laptop to my home care case. I already have my med bag, my tote bag with my lunch and other things I deem necessary, my hog of a purse, and my tech bag containing my tablet, my bluetooth keyboard, extra charger packs, and wiring. Besides, at this point, the laptop is my home computer until I can get my $700 paperweight fixed. It would be a pain in the ass to unhook all the peripherals every time.
I currently have one main story that I'm working on with Team Netherworld, but there are a few secondary stories and lots and lots and lots of proto-stories. I can't make my brain be what it isn't, and at this stage of my life, I'm not interested in trying. My brain is going to diversify.
If you read all of the stories we have out there, they have a common theme. I'm not going to pretend they don't. Most of them will never be for public consumption, but sometimes one of us shares a chapter here and there.
I put the Rattling Bones Undead Musician Magazine blog on private. I had the Encyclopedia Netherworld blog on private for a few weeks. I put Encyclopedia Netherworld back to public but I don't know if it will stay that way. Not much of anyone interacts with these blogs anyway. I was starting to feel that the creations being shared were a bit too personal.
When I write stuff like this, I'm sort of explaining things to other people. However, the main purpose is to give myself permission to be what I already am. I'm actually quite tired of apologizing to people for being what I am. I'm not holding a gun to your head and telling you to love me. However, there is no reason to be critical of me either. I don't come to your space and rip holes in everything you do. I would appreciate the same consideration.
Note: This is not directed at any one person. It's expression of frustration over repeated criticisms of my method over time by people who a) don't get it and b) don't care that they don't get it, they just want to make themselves feel important by criticizing someone who does things differently from the way they do.
Psychologically, I'm probably in a mixed state right now. I'm slightly irritable, which is making me snarky. I'm having trouble sleeping even though I'm constantly tired. I've got a pretty good "I don't give a fuck what you think of me or my writing" mood going, which tends to come with hypomania. The exhaustion and sore muscles, however, tend to be part and parcel of depression. Hence, mixed state.
Thing is, a lot of the time people come along and find me during a depressive state. They feel sorry for me and try to encourage me. Then I get into a euthymic or hypomanic state, which makes them think they succeeded. When I go into a depressive state again, they think I'm not appreciative of their help and that I'm just "not trying hard enough."
Sometimes they leave on their own at this point, because they don't want to waste their efforts on someone who "just wants to sit around feeling sorry for themselves." Sometimes I end up getting snarky, which is something I'm not proud of, and I drive people away, including people who actually do want to help. Only recently have I been able to realize that I have a real mean streak that I've developed over the years as a defense mechanism. The problem with a mean streak is, it tends to flare up without any sort of regard for intent on the part of its target. I feel very badly that I've hurt people who were actually well-intentioned. There has to be a better way of handling things than I sometimes do.
Here's the thing: a person like me, who is badly broken but who can pass for normal, is like a broken vase that has been put back together with epoxy. The epoxy has been painted over, so the vase may not appear to be damaged.
The person says to themselves, "well, Vase, now that I've put you back together, you're good as new. So, let's let you do what vases are supposed to do."
The person then puts water in the vase and gets pissed off when the vase springs a leak. Upon closer examination, the cracks are still there. The person throws out the vase and goes to buy a new vase.
With me, the cracks are always going to be there. I'm always going to be broken. Not everyone heals at the same rate. Some of us don't ever heal.
I'm hoping I can get back to creating soon. It's not that I'm exactly a dull subject, but I kind of like to think about things other than myself and the shitty state of the world.
The Cheese Ghostbusters Hath Grated It
