Hard To Get
Well, I’m not a comic book artist yet.
Actually, I’ve discovered that perhaps I can’t focus on one thing, like I wrote before about being a comic book artist, and stay sane. What I mean by that is that I tried to refocus my intents and purposes so that when I thought of or got interested in something else I kind of suppressed it. I guess that doesn’t really work.
My rat Ratchet has a sore on his foot, and he had a cyst on his back. I had to give him a bath before I took him to the vet, so I did. Something got into my lungs because as soon as I was done giving him a bath my breathing was arrested pretty bad. Then it kept getting worse and worse, to the point that my ‘rescue’ inhaler wasn’t working because I couldn’t breathe out deep enough. So at five in the morning we went to the emergency room so that I could get treated so that I could breathe. Maus basically got three-four hours of sleep that night. He told me that I had to always wear a mask from now on and to never do that again.
Then in that same day, Maus was witness to a guy getting hit by a car at a cross walk and getting killed. He had to talk to the police and give a statement and everything. The worst part I think was that he had to console the driver who was flipping out about hitting the guy. Unfortunately, the guy was dead on arrival, and was reported by the newspaper as being dead when he reached the hospital.
I was put on a steroid, Prednisone, and I’m not really sure how that really works out. I was on a steroid earlier when I was having bronchitis issues and it seemed to wreak some havoc with my moods and anxiety. This time wasn’t too different. I was having pretty big bouts of anxiety and all sorts of unpleasant mood changes. I’m doing better now, as I’m off the steroid. My mother said that my father was on the same steroid for a while and it completely messed up his emotions.
Speaking of emotions, I think my nurse practitioner doesn’t really appreciate me. I quote her as saying, not very out of context, “You can cycle all you want.” I told her that my mother and I think I went through a bit of a minor cycle because for about four days I was on top of the world and then in three weeks I felt like total crap. She pretty much dismissed this and said, “I think you over-analyze everything,” and “Of course your mother is going to notice every little thing.” I was in this woman’s corner, I had just started to like her and then, she pretty much dismisses me.
I told her I had a couple bouts of extreme anxiety that we were concerned about and she basically ignored those, saying that I needed to just let go and live in the moment. I wasn’t sure if I was visiting a bromide spouting charlatan or a nurse practitioner. She told me that I need to talk to Maus less, because Maus must be tired of hearing every single change in my internal state. I told her I don’t really do that, and that I often have difficulty talking to Maus for various reasons, including his reactions and conceptions, and she’s like, “Right, because he’s tired of hearing things.”
So she lowered my lamictal by 50 mg, which is fine, I was expecting this. I asked her if I maybe I had a comorbid diagnosis of depression or dysthymia and she said, “All borderlines have a certain element of dysthymia in my opinion.” She pretty much tells me how I just have to accept it. Which actually, is not so bad, because I’ve already accepted this to a degree. It’s just strange to have someone in her position to pretty much be like, “Come to me when you’re delusional otherwise I don’t care.”
I told her that I’d have Maus and my mother help monitor how well I do on the medication change, and she basically said that I couldn’t rely on my mother. She’d ‘notice every little thing about me’ and not report accurately. I was like, “Really?” She also said I had to not talk to my mother about various things in my life because it makes Maus feel like there’s a third person in the relationship. She assumed in awful lot! She’s never even met Maus. I told Maus all these things and he agrees it’s not an accurate depiction of the reality.
She seems to have this idea in her head that I’m this slightly histrionic little person who needs a hobby in his life. That all I do all day is sit around and think about how I feel, taking every little disturbance and magnifying it by five.
It’s a little frustrating because once people have decided you are a certain thing it’s like talking through a filter to them. You have to frame everything in a certain way to have them potentially understand. And when it gets to this point I honestly start debating what is worth correcting and saying in the half hour that I get so that I can have the most effective visit.
I mean I understand the idea that I don’t need to come to her for every little thing, and that she’s more concerned about delusional thinking than necessarily feeling on top of the world. I understand the idea that people are going to feel these things in life just naturally and that’s how things naturally develop. But at the same time, I get enough anxiety that I become dysfunctional, and I feel like crap enough that it starts to hinder the natural flow of my life and me taking care of myself. I would think those would qualify as important, don’t you? I’m all for going along with life’s ups and downs and experiencing emotions and all that stuff, but when it hinders you, isn’t that a problem?
In other news, I’ve decided that I can’t really ‘give myself’ a job, at least not like I thought I would. Last time I wrote about how I was going to focus on drawing and becoming an artist. I’ve been having this problem where every time I start working on anything creative I get completely stuck and frozen in total anxiety at the road ahead of me. And when I’m anxious, I’m not creative at all. So, I’ve been battling this crippling ‘writer’s block’ for weeks and it’s starting to drive me crazy.
I get to thinking about something, like my adventure game, and kapow I’m completely floored by blankness. Nothingness. It’s debilitating. Then I get completely anxiety ridden and the next few hours are shot. I can’t operate like this. So I’ve decided that focusing on a job that is farther from my usual activities like programming is maybe not such a good thing.
I’m having trouble deciding on what exactly the best course of action is, but I do know that I have to let my mind wander, so to speak. What I mean by that is, if my mind wants to focus on programming, then I should focus on programming, if it wants to focus on robotics, then I should focus on that. In essence, not suppress my natural inclination to work on something in particular.
When I think about it, this actually makes a little sense. When I was doing pretty good, even on top of the world, I would read parts of things in moderation. Meaning, I’d read Seth Material, then I’d read Electronics, then I’d read about writing, and it was just a constant titillation of the various parts of my mind. I think if I focus too much on one particular thing and get obsessed with it, I start to run dry.
Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that for the last several weeks things have not been going so well creatively, and well, in my life. I’ve neglected things like a meal plan, taking care of myself, keeping up the apartment. I’ve been sleeping in bad and have had no real schedule of anything. And, I feel like crap.
I’m in transition though, and hopefully things’ll get better. But, I still feel like crap.