Fact

I am honestly more self-conscious about losing my hair than I am about keeping my chest.

The End is Near

A friend of mine is having a slight mental breakdown because she is turning twenty soon, and her life doesn't resemble what she had planned for herself. She told me of how she wanted to be married and have children by 25. She thought she would be engaged by now. I remember when I first went away to college, thinking I'd come back home to marry the boy I dated in high school and immediately start having kids, though the last part always worried me a bit. I never thought about the details. I never thought about how I would get there. I just knew that's where I wanted to be without knowing why. She's looking around her, since all of her friends seem to be my age or even older, and we're both noticing the same thing. None of us are where we thought we would be, especially in terms of our romantic relationships. Most of my friends who are getting married are at least 26 or 27. The whole conversation doesn't even seem as important to me as it once did. I used to worry about the exact same thing. I wasn't where I wanted to be. I was alone. And I felt like my life was just passing me by.

And this wasn't even that long ago. I'm sure the drugs helped a bit, but something else has changed since my coming back here. I can't figure out exactly what yet. I feel more responsible for my own life. I feel more grounded. I feel less pressured to jump into something, even if I know I want to do it eventually. I'm taking my time getting to where I want to go because there are things that need to be done now. I want to take care of the present person that I am without completely throwing my future away. I now recognize that I don't have to sacrifice one for the other.

I'm going to be 25 soon. I feel a disconnect from the number just as I used to feel a disconnect from the gender I was assigned at birth. It doesn't seem to fit. But unlike my gender, my age doesn't affect very many things I do in my daily life. It just doesn't matter. I hear so many people my age complain that they can feel their bodies getting older, starting to break down. I don't feel that way at all. I feel like I'm always getting stronger. Maybe I'm losing more hair. But I can live with that. And then, when I have the money, I can change that too, if I decide. I somehow feel more grownup than when I left Pittsburgh, even though I live in my parents' house and frequently get mistaken for a high school student.

I'm starting to believe that I can make important decisions for myself. I'm taking the risks associated with making those decisions. I'm living with the consequences. I'm not asking for advice as often when I already know what I should do. I'm taking responsibility, it seems. But I still can't seem to keep my room clean. I have a few theories about why that is the case now. It's a different reason than before, and it involves not wanting to go upstairs at certain times. As a side note, Christmas by myself was interesting. And it really didn't bother me. Everyone expects me to be upset about it. You're supposed to spend Christmas with your family. But Christmas happened a day early for me, so I didn't really miss out on anything. I almost started to get upset just because people thought I was supposed to be.

Time to watch football again.

Unnecessarily Bored

The good news is that I am not feeling shitty about life anymore. The bad news is that I'm pretty sure my body isn't absorbing the nutrients it should be. The weight loss plus a few other not-fun things worry me, which is why I'll be talking to my doctor this Thursday about starting to taper off these medications. I don't want to be dependent on them, and I don't want them to get in my way of doing what I want to do. But I also know that I really did need a little help getting to an okay place. I feel like I might be there, but I worry that something serious will happen if I stop altogether. I wish I had health insurance. That's also not helping my situation.

It's my day off today, and it's been so long since I've had more than a few hours to myself that I don't know what to do. I feel restless yet lethargic. And I'm watching a show about snow monkeys.

I am not sick. But I am sweating, and I have been tired for quite a while now. And it's not a normal kind of tired. Ordinarily I would say it's due to my working 60 hour weeks, but this is a different feeling. Again, it's probably time to stop all these drugs.

New show: How they make light bulbs.

When I have a day like this, and I know I have so many things to do, it seems like they're all in a pile on the floor. I'm told to find something, but I don't know what I'm looking for, so I just keep sifting through the same crap over and over again.

Distracted.

Highlights

I've been writing on paper for much of the past few weeks. Dozens upon dozens of pages. I needed to say things I didn't want anyone else to hear. But there are some highlights that are worth mentioning. Life is changing, and I'm still scared, but there is so much more to my life than fear or anger or depression.

November 3: "I don't want to kill myself. But I don't know how long I can safely say that. Even now, I am becoming frighteningly detached from all emotion surrounding suicide, especially my own. I want to believe that life has meaning. That MY life has meaning. But I'm just going to fade out like the rest of the world. And no one will care about my existence, so why should I? If life is all about the pleasure of the present moment, and there is no pleasure to be had, wouldn't it make more sense not to feel at all? If this is the way things will be forever, why not just stop it before more pain results? Why does it seem so logical? I would never have allowed myself to entertain this kind of thinking before. But now it's a part of who I am and I cannot prevent it. I am afraid of myself."

November 9: "I feel disgusting. In so many ways. And I have no idea why. Something about existence just sickens me. I feel like I'm doing it all wrong--this life thing...I want to breathe air and not pain. I don't want to feel this in my stomach every second of the day."

AFTER MY DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT

November 13: "I do not feel like the person who wrote the last two entries. I feel more like my old self, but not entirely. I feel capable. I feel that what I have learned will be useful. Today, I have hope...Something about life feels beautiful right now, and I'm happy with that. I don't even need to try to explain it. The rain against the window and the soft scratching of the pen in my hand an even how the whole world seems to encompass no more than the hundred square feet of this room. It's all beautiful and right and perfect."

November 15: "I am so scared. But it doesn't hurt like it usually does. I wonder. Is it the hope or the medication or does it matter at all? I'm thinking it doesn't really matter why I feel good; I need to enjoy it while it lasts. Sometimes things just are. As a scientist, that's hard for me to live with. As a nutcase, it's even harder."

December 1: "I LOVE WHO I AM. No reason. It was just there. I can't even explain. It just exists, and I know that means this treatment is working--that I'm getting to that point of being okay."

December 2: "I am still afraid to look back at my last few months of writing. I'm not far removed enough to feel comfortable reading about my thoughts of despair and suicide. I fear that reading about them will cause them to resurface. I'm still moderately afraid that this is only temporary and that I'll never really be able to escape feeling miserable in the long run. But even if that is true, I'm trying to enjoy it while it lasts."

December 2, again: "I'm going to get my name changed soon. And my tattoo, probably before the year is over. I'll be able to see those words every day for the rest of my life, and this particular idea for my first--maybe only--tattoo. I always think back to how it changed my life the first time. And then kept on doing it afterwards. It sounds so simple, but it is one of the most meaningful things I've ever heard. It also serves to remind me that even the best of things will fade, including relationships. Will is no longer a part of my life, but the memories stay with me. They were good once. That's what I hold onto. It's hard to let go of pain, but I'm learning. I feel like I'm starting all over, and that used to upset me. It paralyzed me. But life is full of that same process. And this won't be the last time I say hello or goodbye. I will enjoy this for as long as I can. Because no matter what happens, I will miss it. I will miss you."

END OF NOTEBOOK from August 14, 2010 to December 2, 2012.

Welcome to Now

With all of the goals I've set for myself to accomplish before the start of 2013, and after just having completed an eLearning on time management, I find it funny that I would disregard certain things I have learned in order to do this--to write. Writing is clearly one of the highest priorities in my life, and it is a long term goal of mine to leave a piece of myself behind, virtually and otherwise. Words aren't meaningless to me. Even when I feel like I don't have any and even when they are lost inside my head, they mean everything. Even when they are not spoken, they mean everything.

Side note: A Deaf man came in, and they called me to the floor to help him. I felt useful once again, but I also noticed how much I had forgotten. I didn't remember the sign for Christmas until I got home. That's probably something I should have thought about as the holidays started to get closer, and I of course feel silly because it is rather easy. I also felt pretty bad because he asked if we had any Wii U systems, and I don't believe we are getting any until after Christmas, which is what Nintendo always does. Then he asked me about when the new X Box was coming out. We can only hope that it is next year. By the way, I still HATE those controllers. Side note to the side note: Working in the warehouse is actually kind of fun on days when there is a lot to be sorted. I am very efficient, and I now know how to delegate tasks when I have other things to do and no one else is busy. I think someone actually told me to slow down at one point. And for once, I was able to listen and just try to enjoy the side conversations while managing my work. And it wasn't that tough.

I don't even know how to get back on track from that. I'm not sure there ever is a track when I write these things, and that might be the nice part about them. I'm not writing about misery and wanting to kill myself either, which is also pretty nice. My feelings of sadness and regret are much less intense, and I'm not obsessing over them as before. These are good signs. The little things are good signs. Like being able to start conversations or smile at strangers. Like not having to worry about getting overstimulated at work with all of the TV's on and all the people rushing about (fingers crossed).

I like knowing that people trust me and take me seriously at work. They think what I have to say is important. I like knowing that I'm actually good at what I do, and I think that's because I have to really try to understand another person. I don't take it for granted. I'm a conscious observer of unconscious cues, and that really matters. When you have to spend your life playing catch up, sometimes you end up surpassing the people you're trying to catch up to. I love watching people interact. I love to observe and to analyze. I've always been a scientist.

A combination of things helped to increase our department's performance by quite a bit in just one week. I think one of the biggest things was resolving a conflict that involved some coworkers by pulling someone aside and having a chat. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing. It's amazing what getting along can do to boost your job performance. Since my supervisor has been out for over a week, the computer supervisor has been filling in somewhat, but it's also made me feel like it's time to take what charge I can. It may not seem important to some people, but I like being involved in what I do to the fullest extent. I can't help but care.

Alright. Now I'm going to go on a rant again, and it's something everyone has heard me say already, but seriously...What the hell is with people buying their kids 400 dollar iPods for Christmas IN ADDITION TO A SHITLOAD OF OTHER THINGS? This isn't always a bad thing. Maybe the kid has earned it. But so many of these are purchased for kids under the age of 8. Do you know what I had when I was 8? Fucking legos. And I loved it. Legos, crayons, and books. Lots of books. And when you tell me you won't buy the protection plan when you buy your six-your-old an iPod touch that's less than half an inch thick and has a glass screen, I will judge you. And when you tell me that you'll just buy another one if it breaks, it makes me want to scream. Appreciate what you have. Really stop and think about what saying that to someone like me means. I don't make that much money in a week, sometimes two depending on the schedule. And there are people who are far worse off than I am. A lesson in humility is something I believe many people these days need, and it's not just the kids. I am now reminded of the time when some guy reporting on alligator wranglers in Florida remarked that they ONLY make 25 dollars an hour. The report was on Fox News, if you hadn't already guessed. That's all that's ever on in here. It's why I don't often go upstairs at night. I think I'm done with the ranting paragraph now.

I don't think I've got anything else right now. I'm just excited that I can see a little bit further into the future, and I don't feel as pressured to make a decision. I know what I want out of life. Things might distract me from that from time to time, but I always come back to the same place.

It's about that time where so much stuff starts floating around that I can't come up with anything else, so bye for now.

Progress

When you ask a straight girl on a date, and she says yes. More importantly, when you feel confident enough to ask a girl you've liked for months. This has been a great day.

More of the same

I feel like I am ultimately fighting a losing battle. I keep struggling to regain control, but I'm in no better shape now than before. I honestly can't make myself see the purpose of my life. I can't even invent one. I feel like I had lived in a bubble throughout college, and though I am grateful for the things I have learned in the past two years, I long for that kind of safety and security again. I want to love the way I did before. I feel like I've turned completely cold. This isn't the person I know I can be. Maybe there's no way to ever be that person again. I used to be happy. I used to be excited about life, and though I was anxious, I never remember living in a constant state of terror and misery for such an extended period of time.
I wake up, and I immediately think about the day ahead of me. The only thing I can think about is crawling back into bed At the end of the day so I can stop experiencing reality. And I would rather die than exist like this forever, or until it is too late.
There are good things happening in my life. But I cannot appreciate them. I understand them and know how I should feel. How I would feel. But I don't actually feel any of it. I experience only transient pleasure. And even in these experiences, the pain is still there. I am always hurting. And it's been well over a year. I remember having trouble before that, but it's been about that long since it became inescapable.
I truly don't know if I have enough energy/strength to continue on this course. I keep thinking about ways to die, whether on purpose or by accident. I keep thinking about other ways to just destroy my life. I see myself committing terrible acts of violence and cannot help but visualize every gruesome detail.
I want to fight. I want to just push through and come out clean on the other side. But that attitude has only made me more miserable. I've said it before, mostly about life in general, but it applies to depression just as much: There is no other side.
I have only this existence to work with. And I am fucking it all up. I don't know how to navigate through all of this, which seems frighteningly new and endlessly the same. Everyone else seems to be doing at least okay. What makes me so unable to do it? And by it I mean life. What am I not doing that I could be? And why can't I do the things that I know I should be doing but am not?
My breath is forever stuck right above my sternum. The pressure. I just want to be rid of that feeling. To let my arms fall limp at my sides and melt into the world around me.
I caught myself daydreaming About what it was like to hold him. I saw and felt it all over again. And then the memories kept taking me further back in time, further into my mind than I ever want to be any more.
I feel like a black hole.
I don't know why I do anything anymore. I am only pretending to know what the more stable version of myself would want out of life. I don't want to make decisions in a state like this, but what if not making them is worsening this condition?
I feel like I am becoming so bitter and resentful. I cannot escape thoughts about all the people who used to be a part of this life of mine. And I know I mean nothing anymore. I want to feel like a ripple in the pond sometimes. Instead I feel like a drop of water taken captive in a syringe.
I want to be able to experience the world with other people at the same time. I want to feel like something matters. I don't want to fake it anymore. I want certain people to understand this pain. I want them to see what their actions continue to so to me, but maybe they'd be happy and think I deserve it. And I may. I may deserve all of this and not even know it.
But then my rational brain tries to sve the day, and it only succeeds in making things worse. We never get what we deserve; we only get what we get. And then we must decide what to do with it. I don't know if I'm doing anything with what I have been given.
I'm terrified. But I think the very best thing would be for me to go where I can truly start over. But I don't want to admit that the rest of my life is lost. I can't. Something will not let me leave certain parts of my past behind. I have chosen to follow my instincts. And I hope it works. I just want to be able to survive long enough. And I'm getting more and more convinced that I will not see this through.
I have thrown away or sold almost everything I brought back with me. I feel like I am already dead. I really don't feel like I exist any more than a piece of furniture.
And these thoughts are all I have. I am obsessed with my own misery. I cannot escape myself. It's probably why I've been drinking more. Never alone and never without occasion. But it's more often than I ever did in college.
I want to stop looking.
I want to feel.
I just want to be okay with myself and my life.
I want to stop writing about this. I need real fucking help and know I will not be able to get it. And I wish somebody actually cared to acknowledge that there is something wrong. I'm not sure if my family has given up on me. or maybe the same fantasy as always applies yet again. and maybe that's why I am so fucked up. I don't know how to be anything other than a robot. I don't know how to manage any of my emotions. I want to be able to experience emotions and function in my life at the same time. But that may be too much to ask.
I don't even know why I write anymore if this is all that I ever accomplish. Maybe one day ill be able to see the change in my words. Maybe I will one day see happiness on this screen.
God, I just want to die. Really. I'm just too afraid of living. I'm too afraid of an endless now. I don't want to be broken. I don't want to go through life like this, an maybe that is why I don't have any motivation. Maybe my brain is trying to make the wish a reality by refusing to let me participate in my life.

Hope has failed me.