Another Let Down

I have determined, through much experimentation, that my main problem when it comes to dating is that I refuse to beg for attention. My information on this front is purely anecdotal, obviously, but it would seem that men (and women, tbh) find my lack of need for attention to be off-putting. And so, my dear readers, I am once again just going to give up trying to date… cuz I’m not good at it, apparently.

I can’t argue against the fact that when you get to know me I’m fairly cold, calculating, and operate much like a computer simulated personality. To start with, I document and log information you give me so as to determine the “correct” response to whatever you’re talking to me about. I’ve been known to do research on things so as to better acclimate myself to being associated with people. Most of my responses at the beginning of a social interaction are artificial. I’m very much fake, and I know that. Still, it takes time to notice, if you even notice ALL of that. Once you get to know me, if that isn’t enough to make you turn tail and run, I will tone it down and be more myself, but part of being myself is also being slightly fake anyways. People who’ve known me for a long time might know this without putting a name to it, but it’s just something people adapt to or run from. I can’t help it. I’m incapable of natural interaction.

Dating is weird, though. Everyone seems to want you to crave them like heroin. I’m not that kind of person. I’m totally fine with not talking to someone everyday. I have my own life and it doesn’t have some gaping hole in it because I’m alone. I guess it’s uncommon for a person to be totally whole and complete by themselves? That sounds condescending as shit, but the successful relationships I witness aren’t two totally complete people that happen to like associating, they’re two people that seem to need each other. Once they don’t need each other anymore they fall apart; there’s no room for the other person anymore. By that logic, I don’t have room in my life for another person… and maybe I don’t but I would never know, since no one gives me a chance to make the room.

I got a phone number of a guy two weekends ago. Bird and I were at a show, and this guy was funny, seemed nice, and I ended up getting his number because he asked for mine. Well, I hadn’t heard from him by Wednesday, and I like to make plans. So, I hit him up, because I’m a strong, independent woman and don’t need no man to make the first move. The conversation was nice enough, and drug out over two days, but he didn’t ask to see me and I haven’t heard from him since. I debated texting him again… but if he wanted to talk to me, I feel like he would. I’m not going to beg for attention. I have shit to do. I’m just irritated because if he were to ask me on a date, I’d like to have the time left open for him, but my weekends fill up pretty quick. If you’re not on the schedule, you don’t get to see me.

Based on all this info, I’m just going to forget that I got his number. I don’t have the patience to wait on him…

Also… it kind of hurts my feelings. I was excited that someone in really real life had picked me out to have interest in. I was excited to get to know someone knew. I was excited to maybe get laid. I was just excited for things to be different and interesting. I’m asexual and aromantic, but I’m not dead. I could use someone new in my life… We didn’t seem to have a lot in common, but we could have. I could have learned some new stuff and developed some new hobby. That’s what I like about new people in my life… It’s a chance to expand with purpose, not just for the sake of being the smartest person in the room.

I hate when I do this to myself…
I get my hopes up for something new and fun and different before it’s certain that it’s even going to be a thing… but then I feel like when I’m not excited about something new I end up wrecking it by NOT being excited…

So I dunno how I’m supposed to feel…

But mostly I feel disappointed.

Well, I got my crown put on.

It was awkward as shit… every time my lower teeth hit it my brain went

WHY IS THERE GLASS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!!

and my whole body would tremble with goosebumps. It was whack… but it’s better no. I might still need an adjustment, though, because that tooth is just a little too long and my front teeth won’t meet now. Gonna wait a bit, though. See how it changes my bite.

This was, by no means, a PLEASANT experience, but the dentist and the techs were hella nice. They tried really hard to prevent any pain, and were real understanding about my flinching at temperature changes… So, it’s nice to know that I have a place I can go for cleanings without having a panic attack. My last dentist office was full of assholes… but I wrote two entries on that, so I won’t dwell.

(See: The Worst Day of My Life and The Nice People Ripped Up My Gum Line for details)

In other news, I’m on countdown for going to Oregon!

Which means I really gotta get my house clean for when Mothership is taking care of the pets for me… >_> UGH…. The only problem with leaving.

Still, I’m super excited to see mah gurl!!! It feels like eternity since I saw her.

Today it is hecka snowy. (BTW I started saying hecka.)
It started yesterday around four, and hasn’t stopped since. What’s interesting is that it still hasn’t stuck to the roads. I was real worried about that because I went to David’s for his birthday, and I was worried about driving home, but nah: the roads are fine. I just got back from the grocery store (I wanted pizza) and the roads are wet, but not icy or snow-filled. I think it’s because we went from 70 degree weather to this, so the ground is still pretty warm. Plus, it’s a spring snow… those are always wet and heavy, but less icy.

I didn’t do a lot today. Watched Markiplier play Outlast 2, and took a nap… but I feel okay about it. What else was I really going to do, besides maybe clean my room?

My mood has been better. I dunno if it’s because I’ve started self-medicating on the daily, or if I just legit feel better, but both make me want to call and cancel that shrink appt in July. I don’t really like seeing doctors if I can help it. I’m still not HAPPY but I’m not bawling my eyes out and curled up in a ball on my bed anymore. Still, it was so hard to get a damn appt, I guess I should keep it.

I just don’t want them to ask me any more awful questions. The interview for it over the phone was hard. I don’t like talking about things from my past. Shit happened, I’m not that person anymore. I get that it’s necessary to assess how I got to my current mental state, but like… I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I don’t like being out of the power role. I’m that kind of person. I’ll answer family history: my mom’s side tends to have depression and my dad’s side has addiction, oh and also my dad is bipolar. I’ll answer substance questions: I self medicate, but in very strict regulation because I don’t want to grow up to be my dad. I don’t want to answer questions that lead into memories of stupid shit I GOT MYSELF INTO when I had a mild drinking problem… I no longer have a drinking problem. I learned. That piece is no longer relevant to my life, and I don’t want to talk about what happened.

I dunno. I’m defensive about it. No one has a clean past, but mine is just a bunch of dumb shit I got MYSELF into and never told anyone about, and I like to keep it that way… but I don’t like lying to healthcare professionals, even if they DO work for the abomination that is Kaiser Permanente.

Anyways… I’m off to make pizza, and I think I’ll be putting up a 300 Days of Sunshine entry. I’m not sure on what, yet, but I think I should. It’s nice to have some good in your life.

Hard Day

I’m having a hard day…

That’s not a new thing, it’s just how my day is panning out.

I woke up in a pool of sweat.

I almost threw up several times this morning.

I actually threw up twice this morning.

And… yeah.
I want to dig a hole, curl up in it, cover myself with a large rock, and die.

That’s where I’m at today.

I am so fucking tired of feeling this way.



I’m glad that I have an appointment with my doc coming up, but I swear to god that I would kill a drifter to be able to see someone right now. I’m just over this feeling. I’m over being sad, and tired, and overthinking random people’s comments, and just constantly having a little voice in the back of my head that goes, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you were dead?” Because yes. It would be so much easier on me to just be dead.

Don’t hear me wrong. I don’t want to die. I am not suicidal. I’m often finding myself talking myself out of some kind of self harm, but I’m not suicidal. I just… am not doing well with existing at this exact moment. Also, I feel like it’s getting progressively worse. It’s not like it’s suddenly more frequent, because everyday is already super frequent, it’s just more consuming.

Metaphorically, my depression is like getting stray ink on you from a pen. It started as, oh shit, I have ink on my hand, and has now become something like, oh my god, my pen exploded and ruined my white clothing.

I don’t really have more to say, unfortunately, so I hope you enjoy my short, but depressing post.

#Depression : How my life is currently blah

Hey guys, girls, and non-binary pals!
(Yes, I stole that from Thomas Sanders… but I don’t think he’d sue me for it, seeing as it’s the catchiest way to properly greet everyone.)

So it’s been a while…I’m trying to post this via email, so we’ll see how the formatting comes out.

I had to correct the last entry a little. I thought my step sister named her kid Anakin. My HALF sister named her son Anakin. My step sister named HER son Avi. Ani and Avi… Just like… Okay, family… Whatever. Fortunately, I’m estranged, so like… this is just information I get to have, as opposed to a piece of my actual life.

Let’s see. Updates in my life?

LIFE UPDATE A, I’m going to Oregon.
I finally booked a ticket to go visit my bestie in Oregon come May. She’s excited. I’m excited. We’re gonna play Injustice 2 with her husband, and see Singing in the Rain at this cool theater, AND she’s thinking of getting a beach house for a couple days so we can hit the beach. I am super stoked. I could really the use the vacation, but also I really miss her. I find myself in a lot of situations where I’m like, “I wish Billie was here to hang out with me.” So like, getting to see her and stuff is super exciting and I’m super happy about it.

LIFE UPDATE 2, I am horrifically depressed.
I’ve been depressed for a while. This isn’t new, other than I was originally thinking that I was depressed because I was tired, but I’m pretty much sure that I’m tired because I’m depressed. It’s been a bad couple of months. I’ve been sad. I cry for no reason. I recently discovered that if I listen to music that makes me happy I cry… so that’s a weird thing. Pretty much, at this point, I am just constantly pushing down the urge to cry at all times. Also, sometimes I want to cry, and nothing happens. It’s crazy.

So, being a rational human being (hahahahahaha…. right), I finally reached a place where I decided that I should see a doctor.

SKIP ALL OF THIS IS YOU DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT HOW FUCKED KAISER INSURANCE IS.

So, I called my local Kaiser Behavioral Center and asked for an appointment concerning severe depression. “Yeah…. we’re not gonna do that… we’re gonna schedule a psychiatric nurse to call you in a week, and if you can convince HER that you’re sad, we can schedule an appointment with a shrink for you in… like 2 months.”

Obviously, they said it more professionally than that, but that’s still what they said. They scheduled for a nurse to call and interrogate me, and then IF I seemed like I actually needed to see someone, they were scheduled about 2 months out… to which I just thought… Yeah, cuz it’s not like people kill themselves when they’re depressed or anything.

I am not suicidal, btw… not right now, anyways.

Anyways, so the day before this nurse is supposed to call me, I get a call and this chick is like, “So I was looking at your chart, and honestly, because of how far out the appointments are, maybe you should go through your primary… but I see you don’t have a Kaiser primary caregiver?” And yeah, I don’t. The facility close to my house, and pretty much EVERY OTHER KAISER FACILITY has no doctors accepting new patients. As a result, I’ve just been avoiding having to see the doctor. So this chick is trying to tell me that this other facility has some open spots and I’m trying to explain to her that the other facility is really out of my way… It boiled down to cancelling the phone call, because it wasn’t going to do me any good anyway…

In related news, my mother is on Kaiser, too, because we share an employer. She has a very bad cough, and can’t breathe. I accidentally gave her my upper respiratory infection. So, she called the appointment line at Kaiser and asked to see ANYONE at the facility by the house that could advise her. They really just wanted her to go to the ER. Uhm, no. Kaiser only uses certain hospitals, A, and 2, it’s $500 to go to the ER. She wanted a script for the cough. So after fighting tooth and nail for her right to be able to SEE A HUMAN BEING, she finally got in with someone. They couldn’t give her much for it, apparently, but they gave her an inhaler and some pills to suppress cough. Fuck man. Kaiser super doesn’t want you to actually see their doctors. They will do ANYTHING to deter you from actually seeing a doctor. Literally, they wanted to know why she didn’t have a primary that she could just email about it. I dunno about you, but in the event I actually get to the point where I want to see a doctor, I don’t want to email them about it. WHAT IF IT’S PNEUMONIA?! They can’t accurate diagnose you via email for shit like that… It’s just… ugh… so annoying.

I AM NOW DONE RANTING ABOUT KAISER

So, I called my doctor. On my insurance, I can see an out-of-network doctor 10 times. I have to submit a claim and stuff, but it’s an option, and I was so fucking fed up with the run around from Kaiser, that I made an appointment with my doctor. HERE IS THE MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO: I told the girl making the appointment that I wanted to see my doc about depression. My doc is booked up until the second week of April. She repeatedly tried to get me to see a nurse practitioner or another doctor this week. She was very insistent, because I was making an appointment for DEPRESSION.
I appreciated it, but if I’m going to pay to see my doctor, I want to see MY doctor, ya know? So, I see her the 2nd week of April, and I’m sure my depression will hold until then. Why not? It’s held this long.

I’m still not like… good. I’m better, knowing that I can see my doc in a couple weeks, but like… pretty much anything makes me want to cry right now. It’s crap ass as fuck.

LIFE UPDATE D, I went on the worst date I’ve ever been on.
So, I was seeing the Robot Boy for a while, but I have since just stopped talking to him all together… and I will tell you why.

He was supposed to come to a game night my friend was having, because we all wanted to play a D&D type game. Cool. We are nerds. The night before was his actual D&D night with his own nerds. That got cancelled, and he seemed real bummed about it. I wasn’t doing anything, so I asked if he wanted to do a thing. This was my mistake. I should staid on script. We had plans for the next night. We didn’t need to see each other.

Anyways, he invited me over, told me to bring some movies, and said he’d order pizza. Cool. Great. I am not high maintenance. Movies and pizza are great. The drive to his place was ridiculous, though.

I don’t like to go far to see people. It’s a thing. If you’re more than like 20 minutes away, you’re kinda far… especially in winter. It was a nice evening, though, so I made the trip. It’s 45 minutes if you have good traffic and about an hour in normal traffic. I find that REALLY far, but I was trying REALLY hard to socialize and get to know a person.

On top of all that, I had to look like a people for this person I’m dating, so I put effort into my clothes, and I had to find some movies I thought he’d like. That’s hard. I own mostly horror movies. Lots of people don’t find watching a film crew get horribly murdered and eaten by a tribe in South America to be a good time. So I dug around in the basement and pulled some good ones.

So I load up, I make the drive, and when I get there…

Okay, I’m not high maintenance. I don’t need fancy. I don’t even need to go out once I’m relatively sure that you’re either not a serial killer, or at least not going to kill me. I don’t need to be wined and dined. I don’t need name brand. I don’t need gifts. I’m just looking for someone that I enjoy hanging out with. I need you to understand this before I tell you about the date. I don’t think I’m being high maintenance here. Yes, we’d been talking since last June, but in actual dates, we were on date five, maybe. If it’s the 5th time you’re seeing someone in person, this is not how I recommend acting.

So I show up, and he’s wearing sweatpants and a ratty shirt. Not impressed, especially after I legit put on makeup, since it’s the fifth time we’ve seen each other in person. I rationalize it, though, because I’m not a high maintenance gal. I get it. He’s at home. He’s comfortable. Fine. Clothes don’t make the man. We ate some pizza and I let it go.

So, I ask what movie he wants to watch, and he decides he doesn’t want to watch a movie. He just wants to watch Bojack Horseman. I’m kind of miffed,since I went to a lot of effort to try and find movies, but I’m adaptable. I haven’t watched Bojack, but I hear good things. He’s in the middle of Season 2, though, and no, we are not starting over. So I watch it. I dunno what’s going on, but whatever. I try to ask a couple questions, like why Todd lives with Bojack, since I don’t know what’s going on, and he gets kinda irritated about it, saying he didn’t put that much thought into cartoons… so I just sit there. Meanwhile, he really wants to do that touchy-feely-cuddle shit, and I’m just not about it. I’m not a cuddler on a normal day, but I’m super not one when I’m irritated with people. I’m trying to be cordial about it, but I’m irritated. This whole night seems to be a vague, uninspired attempt at Netflix and Chill. If you’re gonna Netflix and Chill me, put some fucking effort into it.

I guess at some point he noticed I was irritated… or maybe not. He went to his room, got a blanket and a pillow, and burrito’d up on the couch. And I’m just like, “Why am I even here?” And that was my queue to leave. He didn’t seem to mind… and I’m like… well fuck… what a ruined Friday night I could’ve devoted to anything else.

Here’s why I’m mad: If he didn’t want to do anything, we didn’t need to do anything. I didn’t need to drive that far. I was not lonely. I was planning on seeing him the next day anyways. I was totally happy staying at home playing video games. HE invited ME over.

Anyways, I cancelled him coming to game night, by blatantly lying (I said that Bren’s kid was Exorcists vomiting so it was cancelled). I just… wasn’t having it. Bren, and other people I’ve told about the night, agree that it was strange. So, I still don’t think it’s me.

But yeah. That was god-awful. And it sure as shit didn’t help my depression.

In unrelated to me news, David 2 is seeing someone. We went out with a girl I know and her gay friend, and the gay friends hooked up. That’s nice, I guess. I try not to be envious about it, but…

I manage to get him to go out to a bar one time, and he ends up dating someone. I couldn’t pull that off if my life depended on it. I’m fucking lonely. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. I am. I hope it works out and that they end up being boyfriends, fiances, and live happily ever after with a fantastic wedding, but I’m still envious.

Maybe I’m just envious because of the depression. That’s a totally valid kinda thing. Maybe if I can wrap my arms around this depression thing and haul myself out of this dark place I’ll be less… resentful. I dunno. We’ll see, I guess.

Anyways… I’m out for now.

Hope this formats right.

TTYL Silent Audience.

Losing Hope

I’ve found that people in my mother’s generation, the Boomers, can’t usually remember the first presidential election they participated in. I find that interesting, since the people I’m most often in political arguments with are Boomers. I have inferred from these two things that 1, Boomers weren’t terribly political people until they got older, and 2, that Boomers, above all else, are characterized by a desire to talk.

I did the math, and my mother turned eighteen just a month before the Nixon v. McGovern election. I know that she voted for McGovern. I know this because her father was a Democrat, and therefore she registered as a Democrat.

When I first learned this, I thought it was terrible. I couldn’t imagine voting for someone just because my mom did. I have thoughts, values, and opinions that are dramatically different from my mother, so often our political opinions are quite different. It took a while for me to think about why that was so awful, though. It’s because I had the time. I had the luxury of time to investigate the candidates. I googled their positions on topics important to me. I wasn’t being pressured into getting married right out of high school. I wasn’t a minority for not having ended up pregnant in high school. I had options and free time, and I had been encouraged to know and understand the world around me. My mother wasn’t privy to ANY of that.

When my mother was eighteen, she was graduating high school, getting her first divorce, figuring out where to live so she didn’t have to move back in with one of her parents, had no idea what she was supposed to do with her future, AND her senior year was sullied by riots and violence caused by the hostility of desegregation. In the small city my mother was raised in, it was the norm for girls to get married in high school, get knocked up, and never finish high school, much less go to college. This was doubly true when kids were scared of going to school because of the rioting… people could get killed. My mother had gotten married, but insisted on finishing high school. She was also not on board with being barefoot and pregnant while relying on some good ol’ boy from her hometown to take care of her. My mother was, and still is even if she’d never admit it, a freethinking feminist.She didn’t know that at the time, of course… and she really didn’t want ME to be one, oddly enough.

I’m fortunate that my high school career was pretty boring. I went to an a public school in a nice neighborhood (even if we didn’t live in that nice neighborhood), with a mixture of races, creeds, and religions, and never had to think twice about it. I was literally so fortunate that I didn’t even understand that I was going to have to decide what to do with my life until like my second year of college. Even now I kick myself for living in that dream world… but my academic life is a post for another time. My point is that I lived a life of security, and so when my first election year came up, I was prepared AND I was excited.

I guess it helps that my first election year was the year of hope. Obama spouted off about hope a lot that year, and while I knew that hope was a fickle thing that could leave at any time, I was excited to be part of something so much bigger than myself. My friends were equally excited. One even had an Obama party for election day. That win was amazing. It was a win for hope, and it was a win that put the first black president into office. (I am aware of the strangeness that mom’s first election was marred by the violence of desegregation and mine was highlighted by the election of the first black president… if this were a work of fiction, that would be a genius plot device.)

This election was a joke, and it took a lot away from me. Actually, the whole campaign season was a joke, with half the country backing a candidate that didn’t even win the party vote, and the other half backing a caricature depiction of what every country in the world sees America as: a racist, stupid, entitled fuck. I was legitimately ashamed of being American this year. (Although, Australia also had political catastrophes this year worthy of laughing at… but the world doesn’t have all eyes on Australian government.)

I was so sure, so very sure, that the American people wouldn’t let me down. Maybe a candidate like Ted Cruz could have garnered enough votes to win. He’s still a ludicrous Republican with no idea how the average American lives, but he’s a legit politician with a sense of decorum and people watching what he says so he doesn’t shout, “KILL ALL THE (insert pretty much anything that isn’t a cis, hetero, white man here)” from the rooftops. Surely, I thought, no one was REALLY going to vote for Trump, though. I mean, last time he ran for office he was laughed out of the election before the primaries. Much to my dismay, and true to form, America let me down.

Even before we get into how the American electoral system let me down, America let me down. The fact that there was ANYONE in the country, my country, that could listen to this bigot talk and not hate him was beyond me. The idea that there are people in the world that could back someone with his history, with his mouth, with his blatant disregard for the courtesy of lying to the American people about what you stand for just to save face… This man isn’t a Republican who is against abortion and for religion, and I’m mad because his idea of America is more “traditional” and less “politically correct” than mine. This is a man that scared other Republicans. This is a man that bad-mouthed people in his own party with blatant disregard. This is a man who had pending legal actions against him for rape. This is a man that has no political experience. This is a man that  This is a man that seems to have a weird bromance with the would-be dictator of Russia. (I know he’s the president, but if he could swing a dictatorship he would do it…)

I found myself wondering if the fear and sickness I felt was common after losing an election year. Would I have been scared of McCain or Romney? No, I decided. Palin made me nervous, but I wasn’t SCARED of her politics… just her idiocy. Did people feel this way when Bush was elected? A lot of scary things happened while Bush was in office, but no was the answer I got from those who voted in that election. They’d been disappointed, sure, but not scared.

It wasn’t until the election results were finalized that I understood how the electoral system had failed me. I’d never seen the popular vote not match the electoral vote before. I didn’t realize that was a thing that could happen, though I was sure I learned that in Discrete Math back in high school. Furthermore, when presented with all the information, I was sure that the electors would HAVE to represent the people. The electoral college was created as a barrier between the American people and a bad choice, a last ditch effort at protecting the public. At the bare minimum it should act to represent the people, right? Apparently… no.

2016 has been a dumpster fire of a year. It wasn’t until now that I realized just what it’s taken from me, though. It stole my hope.

I’ve lost interest in the government. If the actual popular vote means nothing, then why DID I vote? If the government, built on hear its people, doesn’t give a fuck about the people, then what freedoms can the American public actually claim they have?

In what world is it okay that every politician in the game is BEGGING the American people to give Trump a chance? BEGGING they not riot or revolt… BEGGING that we not start killing each other… and yet Trump isn’t begging his supporters for shit. Even when they wage domestic terrorism against the LGBTQIA+ Community, and the Black Community, the Latino Community, the (insert anything not cis, hetero, white male here) Community he remains… like the stone faced villain of some bedtime story meant to scare children.

It’s weird to feel so disillusioned, and so afraid. I never knew I put so much faith in my fellow Americans until they let me down. I never considered the holes in the electoral system until it spat in the face of the people.

I know a lot of people who already felt this way about America, but I never understood the reasoning. No, one vote doesn’t win an election, but until now I always thought that my vote still meant SOMETHING. I felt like it was important, even if it just got lumped into a pile with the others. Now, when I think about it all I feel empty… dirty even, for being so naive. It’s not that I thought America was the greatest country in the world… I just… I thought… I thought we we safer than we are.

A war hasn’t been fought on American soil since we fought ourselves. People don’t understand the security in that. I’m scared for the next eight years. I’m scared of what can be taken from me. I’m scared of what might happen to people I care about. I’m scared that the choices of a single, stupid fucking man could take me to an early grave… I’m scared of my life turning into a Young Adult novel set in dystopian, post-apocalyptic America…. I don’t have the gall to be a Katniss. I don’t have the heart to be a Tris. I am just numb to anything that isn’t fear when I think about our futures…

This is a feeling I will never forgive my government for.

Fatigue or Depression???

Am I depressed because I’m tired, or tired because I’m depressed?

I feel like this is the kind of question that a normal person doesn’t have to seriously ask themselves, but it’s a question I’m currently faced with.

I am perpetually tired. I wake up tired, I force my way through the day, and then I go home and go to bed early. It’s shitty. I don’t want to go to the gym, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go out with friends, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go to work, because I’m tired. I don’t want to get out of bed, because I’m tired.

I’m fucking tired, or being FUCKING TIRED.

It’s hard to live when you’re perpetually tired. Getting out of bed is the hardest battle of my day. On the weekends, sometimes I don’t get out of bed at all. Yesterday I got up at one in the afternoon. I only managed that because the dogs and I were hungry. When I do manage to get up, I can’t focus well. Work is hell, because it’s just me trying to focus and then having to redo whatever I was doing because I forgot what I was doing to start with. After work, I haven’t been able to make it to the gym much. I’m fucking tired. I look forward to going home, eating dinner, and sleeping. Consequently, I’m not enjoying my hobbies, because all I want to do when I get home is sleep. Also, my social life is suffering. I don’t have the energy to go out. I don’t want to be out. I want to be at home asleep. So, I’m not seeing my friends, either.

No hobbies, no socializing, no energy to exercise…. It’s no wonder I feel depressed.

Still, am I depressed because I’m tired? Or am I tired because I’m quite deeply depressed?
If I’m depressed, I’ve been depressed since about June… and that’s a problem, too.

I’m cut off contact with the friends I used to have. I talk to all of three people regularly, now. I tell myself it’s because they weren’t great friends… and maybe that’s partially true. They weren’t, but who really is? I haven’t had a real best friend since that girl that stopped talking to me because her boyfriend (who she eventually married and started a family with) didn’t like me. I don’t have someone I feel like I can talk to about anything important.

People always tell you that you can tell them things… but have you actually had someone open up to you? It’s awful. You like them, sure, but you can’t HELP them. What do they really think you can offer them in the way of consolation or advice? I think about this when the thought crosses my mind to tell someone anything. And then I don’t tell anyone anything.

I did go to the doctor, though. Since I’ve been tired since JUNE I decided that warranted a doctor visit. She asked if I’d been sick, and as polite as I could I told her I’d been sick a couple of weeks ago, but not since June. She did a depression survey, and I took time to mention that I’m bipolar, and how I couldn’t be sure if I’m tired because I’m depressed or depressed because I’m tired. We also discussed how I don’t seem to be cycling (I thought about that later and realized I am cycling, just not to the extremes I’m really used to since I’m exhausted ALL THE TIME). In the end, she ordered me a Pulse Oximiter to wear while I sleep to see if maybe I have sleep apnea, and ran a whole lot of blood tests (about six vials worth) and last night I got the call back on it.

I was honestly hoping that there was something wrong with my thyroid or liver. You see, I get really angry when they run all these tests and there’s NOTHING to explain why I feel bad. If they can’t find anything wrong with me, they can’t fix it. It happens a lot, and not just to me. My mom is notorious for thinking she’s dying and the doc not being able to determine why. I don’t, for a second, believe that there’s nothing wrong with me… but according to the blood tests, there’s nothing to explain why I’ve been incapable of being a proper human being since June.

My blood tests revealed I have a viral infection. They didn’t specify what KIND of viral infection, so I don’t know if it’s residual from being sick after going to hang with Bren when Michael was sick (I was so sick after that… and I didn’t even touch the kid) or like an Epstein Barr Viral infection… but they want to see me in a month to see if the infection is gone… Also, my vitamin D levels are REALLY low. They like to see people with a score above 30, but according to the internet a score of 20-50 is considered fine. Mine is 10. So, they want me to take 10k units of vitamin D.

Here’s the thing about vitamin D. When my mom came up with a vitamin D deficiency, the doc told her to take 10k units of it a day. That caused an overdose and she became weak and her whole body hurt. So when you’re deficient, it can cause brittle bones and MIGHT cause fatigue. When you OD you are subjected to pain and weakness. Vitamin D is scary.

So instead of following orders, I’ll be taking 5k units a day… assuming I can remember to take it. They also want to see me in a month to see if the viral infection is gone. So… I’m not real confident that I’m going to feel better any time soon.

I’m going to see if I can WILL myself to feel better.
Make myself go to the gym.
Make myself get back into illustration.
Make myself be social… maybe…

I feel exhausted and sad just thinking about it…

Grieve & Get Ready

You can listen to this entry by clicking here.

Yesterday, I was pessimistic, but hopeful.
This morning I woke up to devastation.
I, like many others, am terrified.

Come inauguration day, January 20th, we will be living in Trump’s America.This is a version of reality that I never actually gave credence to until right now. I was prepared for four years of Hillary, as flawed as she was, but in no way am I mentally prepared for whatever is to come under the rule of Donald Trump: loud-mouthed, hate-spewing businessman with a long line of failure and a longer list of offenses.

People have already said it, but I will say it again: Donald Trump has proved what is great and what is terrible about America, and that is that ANYONE can become president.

A lot of people are speculating whether the Trump Inauguration will, in fact, happen come January. To those thinking he’ll back out and realize that he’s in over his head, I’d like to remind you what kind of narcissist we are dealing with. To those thinking that his upcoming court cases can save us with an impeachment, I’d like to remind you that Trump supporters did not seem to care what happened to land him in that courtroom. No, America, I’m afraid that against all hopes we will be facing an orange president, and we’re just going to have to deal with it.

I am not suggesting that we take this lying down. Mourn today. Mourn for the next 70 days if you must, but do not despair, for this is not over. I know a lot of people are grieving America right now: LGBTQIA+ people, People of Color, Women, white people who thought that other white people had maybe just cooled the fuck down for a god damn minute… and it is completely expected for you all to be angry, sad, scared, and lost. Please take care of yourselves and each other. But when you have cried until there is nothing wet left in you, and you have screamed all of your rage to heavens with throats made hoarse with ferocity, I urge you to meditate on your pain and your fear. Find the source and know it’s there, and then take that energy and fight. The fight for us, for you, for the people you care about, your nation, and your future, is not over until we are dead, my friends; and while we have taken a hard blow to what we have fought so hard for, we are not yet in the ground.

This election is historic, not because Hillary Clinton was almost the President of the United States, but because never before has half the country been so fearful of a potential leader. Even my mother, who has seen eleven presidents come and go, has never been SCARED of the president elect before. We, as a country need to use that fear.

A scared animal is the most dangerous. A scared nation is one rash move away from chaos. That is why we, as a country, need to harness all that fear and anger and make plans. We need to be involved. We need to TALK to each other. We have to stand up for each other and fight for each other. When Trump comes for one group, and he will, the rest of us need to be there to keep him from taking them, otherwise, who will be there when he comes for you and yours?

I’m not traditionally a political person, but Donald Trump is a danger to us all, and I’m not about to sit back and watch him strip away everything my friends, family, and my nation have fought so hard for. If that means I have to go out of my way to campaign, protest, learn, and change, then I will. I will do what I have to in order to protect my people. All of my people.

I don’t know who will hear this podcast or read this blog, but if you can hear me, I urge you to do what you can to make Trump’s reign a single term, and to make that term a struggle for him every step of the way. We have 1454 days to ensure that something this catastrophic, this embarrassing, and this terrifying NEVER happens again.