Thursday, September 27, 2012

Brain Drugs Rule

The new medication I've been taking for a while now is pretty much amazing. I'm hoping it holds up - in the past I've tried anti-depressants, and they seemed to help for the first month or so, only to give up and become pointless. Much like many of the men I date. *rimshot*

I still have (often very strong) anti-social tendencies for sure (I'm still an introvert at heart, after all), but they seem less frequent. At work I'm definitely friendlier and more willing to engage with coworkers, whereas before I often tried my best to avoid interaction whenever possible. And I recently had a situation very similar to Asshat, with a couple of notable exceptions. First, we were friends for quite a while before anything happened. For a brief moment, I considered him a close friend and confidant. Another exception is that this time, when I realized I was being used and minimized, I called him on his bullshit and walked out. Done, finished, over. No looking back, no blaming myself (even though he tried to blame me), and no agonizing. To be fair to myself, this is definitely not entirely due to chemicals - I'm in a much better and stronger place emotionally than I was 3 years ago.

I was a little sad that I'd once again been used when I thought I was actually someone of worth to this person, and I was angry as all hell for a few days, but then... I was fine. My only real mistake was caring about someone and believing he might mean the things he said to me, and what's the fault in that?

I've been rocking socks at work, although that's led to many late nights at the office lately, but I'm totally okay with that. I no longer feel exhausted from being around people all day and need to scamper home at 5 on the dot just to regain my sanity.

There's still some depression, anxiety, feelings of self-doubt, jealousy. This is not a magical solution that will solve all my problems. It is, however, thus far giving me the energy to deal with those issues when they crop up, and seems to be keeping things from dipping quite so low when they dip.

So yay! I know this isn't a fascinating or funny post, but hey, they can't all be amazing, right? Then you'd hate me for being so incredible! Or something..

Thursday, September 20, 2012

On a Lighter Note

IM'ing with my boss..

Peanut: I've seen 2 people at this company with shirts off unintentionally and 1 intentionally
Peanut: I think maybe I've reached my quota
Peanut: wait no
Peanut: 4

boss: ha

Peanut: because old_boss wasn't wearing a shirt when he did the Dirty Dash

boss: do I hear a 6?

Peanut: har har
Peanut: the rest have been fired/quit
Peanut: um
Peanut: okay
Peanut: 5

boss: lol

Peanut: shit
Peanut: 6

...and then I heard my boss laugh from across the room.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Quack Quack, Motherfucker

(title is an homage to The Bloggess)

I've been chatting here and there with my ex-husband a bit more frequently lately, and while it's never anything of any real importance, it's kind of nice. First of all, it's a good feeling to know we've somehow managed to regain a semblance of friendship after everything we went through together. And second, it's a reminder to me that once upon a time, a long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away (please don't sue me, Mr. Lucas), someone loved me. Someone thought I was worth the risk and the effort and that I had something real and valuable to offer him.

The downside to thinking that is that it's made me think about my current state in life. In the almost-decade since our divorce, I can count on one hand the number of men outside of my family who have said "I love you." Hell, I can count on two fingers - one was ridiculously drunk and possibly concussed at the time, and the other listened to AM talk radio and believed in chem trails (if you don't know what those are, oh please do Google them).

I feel like a duck surrounded by swans* (kind of a reverse Ugly Duckling story). You may think I get treated like a duck because I believe I'm a duck - it's a chicken & egg (okay, duck & egg) question. But I think of myself as a swan most of the time. When I start seeing someone new, I believe I'm a swan. I believe that we're good together, that this could work, that I'm worthwhile to him and he can see that. Even the guys who say they aren't ready for a relationship yada yada yada - stupidly, foolishly, I believe that he will see my worth and somehow, my patience and kindness will gradually heal his broken heart and he will realize that I was so wonderful to him and I am so right for him. FAIRY TALES.

Yeah, yeah, I know it's stupid. I'd tell anyone else to run. But that's how earnestly I start out believing I'm a swan.

Friday, September 14, 2012

On Suicide and Shame

I swear I'm not trying to take the easy way out and just give you guys links to things instead of writing actual content, but I have more links for you. I'm gonna write about 'em, though! So this is like a combination post. Hooray!

First link is this book I'm reading with one of those ridiculously long titles involving a colon that lets you know right up front it's kind of a self-help book: I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn't): Making the Journey from "What Will People Think?" to "I Am Enough". There is no way to refer to that book that isn't cumbersome (god I hate that song), but I'm giving it a chance anyway.

Normally, I have zero interest in self-help books. They're usually doofy and written by someone who is just pulling pyscho-pop babble out of their ass to make money off sad people. I used to work at a bookstore, and would just boggle at the nutty titles of these things when straightening that section. Really? Some old frosted-blonde lady with 3-inch French tip fingernails is going to tell me how to land a man? Because we're all the same, you know, we women. And men, of course, are all the same, too. There's a formula to finding love/happiness/transcendence/Waldo. Just, um, don't look at that book right next to this one, which gives you a totally different formula, because THIS IS THE ONE. BUY ME.

This one is by an author recommended by Jenny Lawson, a.k.a. The Bloggess. I'm a huge Bloggess fan because she's a great writer who is open about her struggles with anxiety and depression, and approaches the topics with the best sense of humor. She makes these problems accessible to people who don't suffer, while bringing a sense of community and hope to those who do. It's damn awesome, and her book made me laugh so hard I couldn't eat while reading it, so I should probably go ahead and recommend that, too. She's hugely popular right now for this Traveling Red Dress thing she's started, and she also likes to emphasize the idea "depression lies." If you've never suffered from depression, then A. are you old enough to be reading this blog? and B. you probably don't get it. But if you have, even temporary post-sad-event depression, you probably realize that it's SO TRUE. Depression's an asshole that gets all up in your brain bits and lies to you about who you are and what you're worth.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Just a link

I just feel like this is a really important article for anyone who knows anyone to read, maybe especially if you know someone who has been raped (like, you know, me):

Thursday, September 6, 2012

My First Suicide (Attempt)

I'm feeling pretty warm and fuzzy right now, and that seems like a good time to write about my suicide attempt, as mentioned at the end of my last entry. That sounds depressing, but considering I'm sitting here alive and well and actually feeling pretty good about myself almost 9 years later, I think it's kind of a funny story. Plus I'm a firm believer in sharing my shit so that other people who have been through similar shit can feel comfortable knowing it's okay. They're not alone, it's not a reason for anyone to think less of them, and in my experience it gives you a feeling of power over whatever plagued you to be able to tell the story and laugh about it.

Back when this all went down, I was on Celexa, an anti-depressant. For those who care about my mental issues/medication progress, I'm just finishing up week 3 of Lamictal, and so far I'm really quite liking it. I have so much fucking energy, and today I found out I'd fucked up pretty huge at work - something that would have sent me into a dark spiral of self-doubt, wondering how I'd make ends meet when I was inevitably fired and forced to work at McDonald's - and I just groaned, grumbled, and went about helping to remedy the problems (at which point I fucked up something else, but okay. it's all good because I have the best boss in the world). I know no medication is going to "fix" me, but goddamn do I feel more capable of working on my issues now.

Feeling capable is not something I felt so much back in January of 2004. Quick recap: unemployed, broke as hell, facing divorce, and boyfriend had moved out while I was at work. Got it? Okay.