do you see the people? where are all the people?

If you don’t write blog posts, you won’t get visitors, and my stats are pretty barren. The WordPress app is now mocking me, showing me a big middle finger where my stats are supposed to be.

So yeah, it’s been a while again. I won’t bore you with the play-by-play, but in general April was not the best, and May isn’t starting off great either. Injuries, illnesses, finances, plans gone awry, lots of things out of my control, and lots of little frustrations that I’m dealing with.

My mental health has been surprisingly stable, until recently. The usual depression is taking over again, so that’s no fun. Everything seems so fucking pointless, and I feel like an insignificant part of a mindless, uncaring machine, grinding people’s hopes and dreams into dust. A cheery thought, eh?

Work is work, as usual. I do it for the health insurance and psych meds, not the glory. I’m just thankful I can help make more money for the shareholders and executives.

In the meantime, I’ve had a lot of back pain lately. I’m not going to bother with seeing a doctor, because they’ll say the same thing as before: exercise, strengthen your core muscles, lose weight. The reality is that I suck at those things. I would do the exercises half-assed for a few days, then lose interest while I’m eating my stress away. Fuck it, I’ll probably die of heart disease soon anyway, probably with a slice of pizza in my hand.

analyze that

Cross-post from my original blog, which I thought I was closing, then started again, and now I might combine them because I like this theme better. I’m not mad at all, how are you?


As I mentioned previously, I parted ways with the therapist I have been seeing for about 18 months. I think she helped me a lot by asking me to look at life through a different perspective and to consider that I maybe didn’t have symptoms from several different disorders. She had me look at my issues as a series of responses to trauma and introduced me to the concept of being neurodivergent. What she didn’t do is help me feel like I was working toward a goal. We would talk about meaningful things most sessions, but I think there was several months of simply talking because I had a safe space to examine things.

I’m not necessarily sure what my goals for treatment are. I want to learn to change the deep-seated core beliefs that I’m damaged, unworthy, and unlovable. I need better strategies for managing the pervasive negative self-talk and feeling like I have to win approval from everyone I meet. I would like to improve things that I don’t like about myself, such as my low self-esteem and difficulties in social situations. However I’m not sure it’s possible to do all this, and maybe that’s not even what my goal should be.

A wise philosopher once said “I yam what I yam, and that’s all that I yam”, and maybe I need to shift my perception of who I really am. Rather than trying to change myself, I could accept that there are things I do well and things I struggle with. Instead of looking for ways to break through walls, I can look for strategies that make it easier to manage stress and avoid negative outcomes.

Another great thinker said “a man’s got to know his limitations.” I’m never going to be Mr. Sunshine, and it’s not in my nature to suddenly become gregarious and extraverted. I’m never going to throw my hands in the air like I don’t care, and I’m never going to be completely happy and blissfully ignorant. I understand I will never be able to completely fix my life or repair the damage from years of childhood abuse. But maybe I can learn to be okay with those limitations.

So for now, I have no desire to look for another therapist. Honestly, I think a little less self-analysis would be really good for me. Anyone who reads here knows I tend to overanalyze everything. I second-guess, I ruminate, and I indulge in endless loops of revisionist history and alternate endings. It’s quite exhausting sometimes, because I spend so much time thinking about the past that I forget to live in the present.

I’ve had several days recently where I suddenly had the time and solitude to brood on all the negatives, dig up old regrets, and write thousands of words about how shit my life is. But I chose to not do those things; I made a conscious decision to restrain my urge to pour out all my frustrations into the blog. It was rather freeing to realize that I don’t need to write out all my thoughts in the moment they occur. I can think those thoughts, process any emotion that might be attached to them, then move on with my day.

It’s not some huge epiphany I’ve made, and I won’t promise that I will be able to redirect my thoughts in the future. But for a few days at least, I have been free to do other things that are maybe a little more mentally healthy than wallowing in the swamp of despair. That’s good enough for the moment.

yippie-ki-yay, m* f*

It’s December, which means I feel like crap. Everyone around me is so fucking happy and cheery, and I’m not at all in the holiday spirit. I am easily overwhelmed by the lights and music and happiness surrounding me. Even at home, my wife loves this time of year, and I’m ambivalent at best. It’s a good thing we’re not religious, because that would add even more pressure to act or feel a certain way. I’m trying not to be a buzzkill to those around me, but I need to take frequent breaks from the merriment so I can recharge a little.

My efforts to embrace the season led me back to Die Hard, the best Christmas movie ever. It’s not Christmas until Hans Gruber falls from the Nakatomi Tower. In an act of cosmic synchronicity, the Fakebook algorithm showed me an ad for a Die Hard advent calendar. However I’m too cheap to pay $30 plus shipping, so I made my own and put it on my cubicle wall at work. When December 25th arrives, Hans will hit the pavement pretty hard.

“The benefits of a classical education.”

My wife loves Christmas, so her coworkers gave her an early present: Covid. There has been an epidemic at the Super Spreader hotel where she works, and her number was drawn today. She doesn’t feel real sick, maybe equivalent to moderate cold symptoms, which is good for her.

I wish she didn’t feel like she had to work in a physical job, but honestly she’s not really trained for other skills. She could do retail, but that would suck the life out of her pretty quick. If she loves Christmas now, working retail would teach her to hate it. She would love working at a yarn shop or some other crafty kind of place, but they’re not going to pay a lot at those types of stores.

My moods are in a strange place. My bipolar has been pretty stable for a couple of months, but I’m still depressed. In the past few years I have tried several different drugs for depression to add to my mood stabilizer (Lamictal). Unfortunately the side effects – weight gain, exhaustion, movement disorders, or anxiety – are too much for me to deal with. I don’t feel like I want to end it all, but I still feel pretty miserable.

My inner critic has been pretty hard on me lately, and the main themes seem to be that I am damaged beyond repair and unworthy of anyone’s affection, and the idea that I have nothing worthwhile to offer to friends, family, coworkers, or the world. Sometimes people around me make that feeling worse when I can’t possibly fulfill their expectations, and they don’t seem to value the things I can contribute.

Okay, this was supposed to be short, so that’s all for now.

throwing it all away

We’ve all heard the old saying: “Wherever you go, there you are.” Most people don’t give it much thought, but it’s been a theme in my life since I can remember. I have had a lot of challenges in the past; sometimes I was able to solve the problem, but other times I felt like everything was overwhelming and there was no way I could make things come out okay. When I get that feeling, I get the urge to discard things, to run away, and to change my life to avoid being hurt again. The escape can be physical or emotional; it can sometimes be immediate and hurried, or maybe a slower process over a period of time. But when you run away, it’s still your life, and all the things you try to leave behind are still following you when you turn around.

During grade school, instead of solving conflicts and problems with students and teachers, I managed to convince my A-mom to get me transferred to another elementary school in town. I decided to enroll in college out of state despite the financial and logistical problems because I wanted to leave my A-mom and my hometown behind, but ultimately I had to return, feeling defeated and depressed.

While in a relationship during college, I chose to run away by myself rather than stay and talk through a difficult time with my girlfriend, and she broke up with me. In another example, I was frustrated by the emotional barriers a girlfriend was creating, and I decided to throw away a meaningful relationship when a choice had to be made between two people, then the other girl I chose soon drifted out of my life.

While in my first job after college, I could have tried harder to resolve a conflict with a boss with a smothering personality, but instead I decided to leave a nice job that I enjoyed; this changed life for me and my family. Years later, when my uncontrolled bipolar was becoming more severe and I was having difficulty at a really good job, I convinced my family that leaving California and moving to a new life in Ohio was the right solution; the results were both positive and negative, but my mental problems remained.

I have had the desire to leave my family and run away by myself, usually when my mental health is at its worst. I have had deluded thoughts of simply disappearing someday by cashing out everything I can and taking a one-way trip somewhere. Sometimes I have a fantasy that I could become more involved with a friend and live in some faraway place. But in each of these scenarios, I know that I can’t leave my damaged psyche behind. Even if my friend were to run away with me to a cabin in the woods somewhere, I am pretty sure that my insecurities and personality flaws would surface soon, she would leave me behind to preserve her own sanity, and I would be completely alone and devastated.

The common threads in each of these examples include immaturity, emotional instability, delusional thinking, feeling overwhelmed, and looking for an escape route that didn’t involve work to improve the current situation. My mental illness deserves a lot of the blame, but I know I could have tried harder to handle things differently. I can’t count the number of times in life I have thought I could escape my problems and have a fresh start by changing things – different friends, different college, different job, different house, different state, different therapists or doctors. But throwing things and people away in the hopes of changing my life has only resulted in damaged relationships, hurt feelings, lost opportunities, financial difficulty, and lots of regret. You would think I have learned my lesson by now, but sometimes I’m not too sure.

what’s on my mind

It looks like my blog has been abandoned, but that’s not the case. I have been very busy and mentally exhausted most of the past three to four weeks, and I have not had time or energy to sit and write something coherent. I never seem to find the intersection between solitude, motivation, and creativity. That doesn’t mean I don’t have thoughts; oh yeah, I’ve got thoughts on many topics. I’m great at overthinking, obsessing, and hyper-fixating on things that don’t really matter while important things collect dust on my desk and in my brain.

Having said that, here are some things that have occupied my mind lately:

I’ve been obsessing about growing grass. After replacing our septic system in August, a large portion of our backyard was left a muddy and rocky wasteland. I rented a small tractor and an attachment to groom the soil, then planted seed and covered the seed with straw mulch. Currently there are little green seedlings reaching for the sky, and I think it will look pretty good before the cold weather sets in.

I visited the Air Force museum in Dayton. It was very impressive, but also thought provoking. I was looking at planes and talking to a few guides, but then I found the “missile room”. The missiles stand tall, witness to the possibility of destroying nations in a nuclear war, with millions of people dead as a result of collateral damage. This led to deep thoughts and the possibility of a short story. Hopefully I can expand on that in the future.

While in Dayton, I started feeling sick, and by the time I was home I felt pretty poor. The next morning I felt like I was hit by a bus. The sudden onset of typical symptoms made me think I had finally caught Covid. I contacted my doctor’s office and got a lab test, then just out of curiosity I took an at-home test; it was negative. The next morning, the lab contacted me and said I was negative for Covid, Flu A, and Flu B. Regardless, I had to work from home for the entire week because I felt like I was contagious with whatever I had. When I finally went to the office a week later. it turned out that several people had missed time due to Covid. Based on that, I’m assuming I am no longer Covid-free in ‘23.

Another issue was the anxiety and twitchiness I had previous to the Dayton trip. I saw my psychiatrist, and he thinks I have Tardive Dyskinesia. After getting samples from the doctor, I had to jump through several hoops with my insurance, the manufacturer, and a rare-medicine mail-order pharmacy. It’s an expensive drug, but the manufacturer has a copay discount program. After taking the drug for about three weeks, I’m still a little twitchy and I’m still having movement problems. I’m unsure about the TD diagnosis, but I’ll ask the doctor about it. I’m wondering if it is autistic stimming that has become more bothersome as I become less able to mask and control it. I think my biggest source of anxiety is not from mood swings, but from the struggle to hide my issues from everyone.

I’m switching cubicles at work for several reasons – distractions and loud conversations near my current cube, and a desire to just be quieter and less social in the office. I’m really tired of switching on and off depending on who is at my desk trying to talk to me. I’m at the limit of my ability to concentrate on my job because of ADHD and depression and moving all the time. I am moving to a quiet corner with tall walls, and I am hoping it will make a big difference. All I want to do is go to the office, concentrate on improving the quality of my work, avoid conversation as much as possible, then go home and relax.

The company had a remote seminar about hidden disabilities, and I listened in to see if I could learn anything. I struggle with this because I feel like I have multiple issues, and I need accommodations, but I’m not disabled enough to be disabled. I’m wondering about what would happen if I was diagnosed with autism and I disclosed that at work. They talked about using the anonymous employing assistance program to determine what accommodations the company might be able to provide. The risk for me is that the company would argue that I’m a safety hazard in my job description. That makes no sense for an office employee, but it’s the reality I face.

I’m also thinking about the realization I am neurodivergent (as is my daughter and maybe my son (more about that in a future post). My therapist (who I have not seen for two months since she is on maternity leave) says I need to accept who I am and learn to work with it. The problem is that I still want to hide it from everyone, including myself. Is that unhealthy, or maybe is it internally directed ableism? When I reach my limitations, I feel angry, guilty, and ashamed when I can’t manage everything. As long as I feel that way, I’m never going to be able to deal with my issues in a constructive way.

I also have physical aches and pains as I get older. I have to face the fact that there are some things I will never be able to do, and that is frustrating. I feel like I’m getting less healthy every day, and I’m not doing anything about it. I care, but I don’t seem to care enough. Will I get old and feeble, will I have a debilitating illness, or will I make an exit how and when I choose?

There are always financial concerns, and I think a lot about getting things set up for my family for when I am no longer alive. I feel like I won’t make it towards retirement unless I make changes, and maybe not even then. My son is basically independent now, but he needs investment advice so he is prepared for his future.

Finally, I had a dream about some high school friends. We might not be friends today, but if we were it would be uncomfortable for me. I am such a different person than I was in high school – I’m more bitter and weary, more neurotic, more aware of my problems and my mental health, and more aware of autism and everything that brings with it. I don’t know if my old friends would recognize me or want to be around me. My friend Lena, who was always kind and forgiving, would probably be the exception – she would have lost the immature behaviors and kept the grace and beauty she always had.

Well then. That’s a lot of words, but I have a lot on my mind. I’ve got work and office distractions, the music always present in my head, the movement disorder, dealing with autism, worrying about my daughter’s problems, paying attention to the baseball playoffs, going to concerts and museums, trying to make sure my new grass gets watered, and obsessive thinking about everything going on.

Hopefully things calm down a little and I’ll get more chances to write something, even if I don’t post it.

we’re all okay, man

The anxiety and nervous tics returned today, as my discontinued pills said “hey dumbass, we’re not done with you yet!” I really hope these withdrawal effects end soon, because it’s really fucking with my brain. I can’t concentrate on work, I can’t stop thinking about my brain, and only sleeping gives me a break.

Today, as I’m struggling to draw simple linework in AutoCAD, my supervisor decided to check in on me over the IM. I told him I’m not 100% but I’m better than Tuesday (which is true, I just left out the part about being barely capable of performing my job today). He said he hoped I would be feeling 100% soon.

Here’s the thing, boss man. When you think I’m at my best, I’m not 100%. When I say I’m okay, I’m not okay. I’m never okay, and I will never be okay enough to fit your definition of “okay”. The closest thing to “okay” are the days when I am able to successfully mask everything going on with me.

There’s something wrong every day, whether it’s caused by autism, bipolar, ADHD, anxiety, depression, or some physical problem. I’m never going to be 100%, and I have come to accept that. No amount of medicine or therapy is going to change things, and I seem to be getting worse over time. My goal for now is being able to hide my problems from everyone, and function well enough to do my job without getting fired. Those goals may change in the near future if I am unable to function at that level.

I said I wouldn’t

I said I wouldn’t start another blog. You’re supposed to have time to heal when a blog ends … read other people, see new things, maybe discover something profound about yourself in the process.

But no, not me. As soon as one blog ends, I feel a need to jump right back into another. I guess that’s what happens when I’m going through a medication adjustment and drinking multiple shots of whiskey before diving into the deep end.

I’m totally unprepared to commit to a new theme, but I’m desperate to start something new. I don’t even know what this looks like on a larger screen.

If you think this is rambling and incoherent, wait until I’m sober. You won’t be able to tell what the fuck I’m talking about.

Now I need to lie down before I hurt myself. I suggest you do the same.

Three shots should be enough for now.
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