Owww! My Eye!

In an almost miraculously stupid turn events, my shirt tried to poke out my eye by colluding with the file cart.

My shirt has tie strings with wooden beads at the end. While in my chair, I leaned over the file cart and then sat back in my chair. The beads got caught on the cart, pulled tight, then broke free and WHAM:

Wooden Beads slammed into my open eye.

It hurt. A LOT.

And it was such an odd idiotic thing to happen.

I hope it didn’t damage it. The eye, not the beads. I hope the beads burn in the open pit of Hades.

I suppose I will have a black eye, but I don’t want the actual eyeball to be hurt. Because it was the only good one I had left. The other one has the damn Iritis. If I must be blind I prefer it is only in one eye. No doubt that is selfish of me.

And to add insult to injury I am now complaining about my minor hurts and injuries, like that is fascinating for everyone.

Sigh. It is the next step from single cat lady. Eventually we become Spinsters.

Its Morning.

I’m not appreciating any of its glory. I’m actually resenting its existence.

There is something wrong with the human brain that it doesn’t enjoy waking up. That should be a signal toward wonderfulness, right? Instead, we wake up full of resentment and an overwhelming desire to go back to sleep.

I think the reason we have a hard time resisting donuts and forcing ourselves to exercise and wash the dishes is because we used up ALL of our willpower just to wake up.

You only have so much willpower. Its a like a gas tank. I think we use 7/8ths of the tank just getting out of bed in the morning.

We need to just ban mornings and all would be right with the world.

#dubioustheoriesoflife

Weekend Triumphs

I ended the week on a high note. My brain has decided to climb over the rim of the Abyss of my depression and see the world. Sunlight and Energy and Optimism.

I cannot even begin to tell you how magnificent that is. I know it won’t last, but while I’m here I’m glorying in it.

Friday I looked up 3 recipes and put together a grocery list for them and then after work I went to the grocery store and shopped like grown up for the ingredients. Most of you are wondering why that sentence is something wondrous to me. Well, I hate to shop, I buy the same things everytime shop, and those things are always cheap frozen meals and sandwich fixings and cat food. So this was a triumph of mental energy for me.

Yesterday a UTI that had been hovering annoyingly in the background for 2 days decided to get serious. So I went to the Little Clinic and got tested and meds. Like a grown up. Again, you are thinking – uh, that seems like a normal thing to do, Sara. YES. It is. It’s a totally normal thing which last week I would not have done. I would have abused ibuprofen and tried to drink more water and hoped/pretended that it would just go away before I died of a kidney infection. Seriously. So. I’m loud and proud about my normal action to get antibiotics.

Then I came home and cooked and cleaned. Like that was just a thing I do. I know! Its so weird and wonderful.

Today I want to buy shoes. This, of course, sounds like a wonderful fun thing to do. But for me its a THING. First of all, I want to buy some expensive shoes from Mephisto because I’m a fat middle aged woman who needs good shoes.

So I had to wait for my tax refund to get them. I got that on Thursday. But then I spent my shoe money on my UTI. This is annoying. Now if I buy the shoes I am going to be using the money I had earmarked for car repair/maintenance. That seems like a frivolous way to spend potentially necessary money for car stuff.

So now I’m debating. I need new shoes in any case. I think my ankle pain is because my current shoes have worn soles and so they are putting pressure on the joint in an odd way. Also I’m fat. I keep saying that because the scale yesterday was VERY RUDE to me. I may need to start facing my eating habits. But that’s off the subject.

The point, which I keep wandering away from, is should I buy the expensive shoes or just go to DSW and find something from the clearance rack?

I should probably go to DSW. Sometimes you can find a great quality shoe for stupid cheap on clearance. But that NEVER happens when you are actually looking for it. It only happens when you are killing time while your friend is buying shoes or just shopping to be social with your sister or something. Intention is never part of good deals.

Anyway, I’m in a good enough place that going to DSW is an actual possible thing I could do. So that is in favor of that plan.

What do you guys think? Go to the locally owned shoe store and get a good pair of shoes or just go to DSW or just stay home and cook?

Next up on It’s A Thought…. Women Warriors. A metaphor with challenges.

Work – Why again?

smbc work — Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal – SMBC

When where you live is not your home.

“How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough.” – Patrick Rothfuss

Two and a half years ago I moved into this apartment. I did not choose it.

This apartment is part of a housing subsidy for the mentally ill. I qualified because my depression had been so nonfunctional that it caused me to be homeless.

I was grateful to get it.

However, my sisters, in an utterly misguided attempt to help a homeless woman with a mental illness, had put most of my belongings into a storage locker for me so I wouldn’t lose them while I was homeless.

They effectively turned my belongings into a physical reminder that my stuff had more value to my sisters than I did. And so as much as I longed to just never see my stuff again, I had to let my sisters get it out of storage because they were paying a monthly fee for it.

They moved my things into my new shelter. An apartment I didn’t choose. They unpacked a few boxes that day before they left.

I didn’t unpack anything else for 2 months after they left and then I flunked my first inspection because I didn’t unpack. So I unpacked. MOSTLY.

I left 3 boxes – one with all of my pictures, one with a bunch of kitchen stuff and one with I don’t know what. I have never opened it. And clearly I don’t miss it.

Before this time, I was very particular about the space where I lived. I always decorated and surrounded myself with things that I loved. Things that mattered to me.

But those things that I used to surround myself with belong to a different me. Those things, in boxes now, represent a lot of emotional turmoil for me. They didn’t belong to me anymore. They belong to my sisters, who paid for their continued existence. Just like this place where I live doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to the depression.

I have enough. I have shelter and furniture and safety. I eat food. I have enough.

I used to have things that were a delight to me. I used to have a home.

I want a home. I want to be able to take delight in the world that surrounds me. I’m thinking about how to make that happen.

I do not picture myself throwing out everything in the apartment in a great purge. Although it sounds rather delightful.

I think I need to throw some things out and make friends again with others. I think I need to allow myself to decorate this apartment. To let it be a home.

Snags have been reached.

The vacuum is wounded. If not mortally, it is no longer able to function at its primary job of carpet suckage.

And thus all the world is ending in a terrible tidal wave of futility and despair.

I might be exaggerating.

But the bedroom floor is definitely looking worse than it did before I started vacuuming. So futility is on menu.

And despair is a close cousin when I attempt to wrestle with this damn vacuum. I thought I fixed the wound but it continues to be nearly useless at doing anything but redistributing the things it is attempting to suck up.

I am going to shoot it and be done with it.

Its not a great vacuum. Taking it to vacuum doctor will cost as much as a new vacuum of the same quality.

This is annoying for a lot of reasons. The first is that I have very little desire to spend my hard earned money on a vacuum. The second is that I will have to go to Walmart: House of Shame.

Mostly, I just don’t want to go to Walmart. Its big and overwhelming and I will likely get there and they won’t have the one I want and I will consider another version but will feel like I should just try another walmart and …

Sigh. Journey to Walmart: The Challenge is on the list now.

How I get things done with depression/anxiety.

I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.

~John Keats

That is what depression is for me at its worst. Its apathy of the greatest and most destructive sort and when its manageable its a fight to gain enough traction to move.

When its manageable, I have to set up systems or I won’t win. These are methods, tricks, processes I use to get myself to do the simple everyday tasks that you do without much thought.

The best systems are habits. For example, my morning routine includes things that are habit. I clean the kitty litter every morning before I leave for work. I take out the trash when I leave the apartment. They just happen without much thought. And once the habit is there, it has to be a very bad day indeed to stop the habit.

But some things are just not tasks you can turn into a habit. For example, I’m not going to vacuum my house daily.

So I set up a list of tasks that I will do. The items on the list are not huge. It does not say for example: Clean the Bathroom. It says clean the sink. Clean the toilet. Sweep the floor. Mop the floor. Clean the tub.

Then I set up a timer. The timer is set for 45 minutes or an hour. When it goes off I do a task for 5 minutes or until its done, whichever is first. Then I reset the timer. If I don’t finish the task, it has to be finished when the timer goes off next.

When I do that all day, I get a clean apartment, clean clothing, etc.

The thing is that nothing on the list is overwhelming. And nothing on the list takes more than 5 minutes in normal circumstances.

Another thing I do is time how long it takes me to do onerous tasks. Cleaning kitty litter used to be a bugaboo of mine. I used to put huge blocks in my mind around it. So one day I timed how long it took. 45 seconds. It stopped being onerous when I realized it took less than a minute of my life. Sometimes my brain creates disproportional views of things – and taking a simple step like timing it creates an objective ruler to break into my misconception.

I want to create more habits. Routines that get done daily. However starting and sustaining a routine for long enough to become a habit is hard. My attempts have been failures so far.

Depression is not a static thing. It changes daily and even hourly. Its on a continuum. Sometimes I just don’t move. Stillness. I can’t even get out of bed to go to work. I’m nonfunctional. There is no hope at all to exercise willpower. Its not even in my list of options.

Sometimes I’m functional. And if I pull out the mental whip and beat myself with it I can get some basic things done like going to work. Its a weird terribly unhealthy way to get myself to move.

Sometimes I functional and hopeful. And in those days I work with systems and goals..

Today I’m functional and hopeful. Today is a good day.

Good Morning from Lily & I

lily computer I had lots of exciting plans for this weekend…

OK. Exciting might possibly be hyperbole. I had plans. To organize and clean and cook.

And now the lifesucking weekend is here and I can already feel it is going to be a battle.

I may be the only person in the world who does not like weekends. Or to be more precise – days off.

I need days off. But when they arrive I stop moving. And all productive things happen only if all the stars align, if I implement a process of timers and lists and and my brain isn’t using the ONE RING* to ruin my life.

My life is a strange dichotomy. At work, I’m very productive. I do things both required and not required. But when I leave work, it all falls apart. I want so much to transfer the way I am at work to the rest of my life. But I have yet to figure out the way to do that.

To be clear – depression/anxiety doesn’t disappear at work. I still struggle with focus and make ridiculous mistakes because of it. I have elaborate quality check processes because of this.

I still isolate at work. I keep my back to the room, and don’t socialize much when I’m at work. People will talk to me and I will respond with my back to them. I’m not acting like a normal person there.

But I do get things done. And I mostly don’t get stuff done at home. I sit in bed all day, playing on the internet or reading.

Anyway, I’m going to begin the battle to make things happen today. First the list.

*ONE RING: Used to “rule them all” or to ruin my life with Anxiety/Depression.

I’m so desperate for happiness

snake-oil-cures-all-returntothemystic-org_ That I’m actually considering buying a product that is almost certainly a sham.

Its set of headphones, called Nervana, that stimulate the vagus nerve and its supposed to make you feel good for a few minutes up to an hour. Its $300.

Its probably a load of crap. But I want it to be real. I want to find a few moments of relief and so I’m considering spending $300 I don’t really have on the very unlikely possibility that it will work.

As you can see, I’m quite aware that it’s about as likely to help me homeopathy. But my brain just won’t stop reaching for that tiny possibility – maybe it will work. Maybe, just maybe I can buy a few minutes of relief.

If it works it would be utterly worth the money to me. If it didn’t, which is more likely, it will just add one more log onto the bonfire of my self loathing.

This is why I get angry at people who offer sham hope to people with a mental illness. Because the desperate and terrible need for some form of relief is much stronger than the rational analytical part of the brain. And they take advantage. And then later, we, the duped, have one more story to add to the horror show in our brains, when we remember that one time we tried that thing that we hoped would work, but didn’t.

They aren’t on sale yet. Maybe I will crawl high enough in hole that it won’t be tempting when they actually do go on sale.

Singing in the Car – Weekly Smile

I live on a busy intersection.

Today it is very warm – mid 60s in February. Open window weather.

A few moments ago a car of women were stopped at the stop light singing a song BEAUTIFULLY acapella.

And then they drove away and I listened to it fade.

It was a surprise gift of a smile from people I never saw, people I will never know and people who will never know they gave me a gift.