I'm currently watching one of my favorite movies trying to quell the gigantic mood swing that happened when I filled out the paperwork for disability. My mother's been nagging me to do this for years and because of pride I've put it off. Now I'm doing it, and I'm not happy. I feel it's like a give up on life card. Like my self worth is plummeting. At what point in life do you become unable to function appropriately?
Enough of that.
My roommates are in the process of breaking up and it's the most awkward situation to sit and watch unfold. She's pulling away, she's found another guy. He's kicked up the sweetness. She won't leave him because she's afraid of being poor. I just don't understand. I would never stay in a place that I'm growing increasingly unhappy with. The new boo makes her happy. How you can fall in love with someone via phone in a week I won't understand. Maybe i'm just too fucking cynical to realize that love can happen at a pure serendipitous moment.
I'm just so angry today. I don't even know why.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Ring a ding.
Can I just start off by saying I hate diet/zero calorie soda? Because I do and thanks to diabetes that's all I'm allowed.
I eluded to earlier that I had finally gotten something for anxiety. My anxiety had gotten so out of control that I was convinced my medication for my bipolar wasn't working anymore. The cycle was vicious. I would do something not favorable, like not go to work. So then I'd start thinking about how bad the job stresses me out. Next, I would remind myself that this was the best job I could get without having a college degree. I would then think of my failed college attempts and squirm and cry at the memories of failure. Finally, it would trickle back to HIGH SCHOOL where I wish I had tried harder in math class and obtained a scholarship so I wouldn't be 25 years old and swimming in debt. All this in a course of five minutes.
I found myself crying a lot. I was just so consumed with everything. It affected me at work too. I'd go to work and then I'd have so much anxiety about going I either A-wouldn't go, B-go in late (that's when you know somethings wrong, I'm 15 minutes early for everything), or C-when I was there I would take excessive breaks because I just couldn't handle it. I was convinced that the customers were going to come get me, that in some secret way they could teleport and find me. I did a lot of ass kissing because of it.
Am I fully over my anxiety? Does one EVER fully get over anxiety? I take my pills as needed. I'm supposed to take 2 a day, but I find that to be a bit excessive. Maybe I'm in one of my good spells where I feel relatively calm about a lot of things. Mom's convinced I'm going to become codependent on them which is part of the reason I'm scaling back on taking them as much. I refuse to become any type of pill head.
I start morning shift today. I slept relatively well last night. I was having a great dream that I was going to the Turner (my father's side of the family) family reunion with my 2 cousins and Nicki Minaj in Chicago. Then it turned into Mom and I driving down the streets of a major city (I have no clue where) and I felt deflated because I wasn't going to Chicago. Odd what dreams are, and what they're trying to tell us.
Maybe I'll make this blog part of my morning routine. It will give me something to concentrate on and wake me up fully so I'm not nodding off at work. That was my downfall last time I had an early shift. I've wanted this shift since I got on the floor. I wish it were Monday-Friday, but it's the next best thing. I think part of the reason I hated working Saturday's before is because I didn't have 2 days off in a row. So we shall see.
Nate.
I eluded to earlier that I had finally gotten something for anxiety. My anxiety had gotten so out of control that I was convinced my medication for my bipolar wasn't working anymore. The cycle was vicious. I would do something not favorable, like not go to work. So then I'd start thinking about how bad the job stresses me out. Next, I would remind myself that this was the best job I could get without having a college degree. I would then think of my failed college attempts and squirm and cry at the memories of failure. Finally, it would trickle back to HIGH SCHOOL where I wish I had tried harder in math class and obtained a scholarship so I wouldn't be 25 years old and swimming in debt. All this in a course of five minutes.
I found myself crying a lot. I was just so consumed with everything. It affected me at work too. I'd go to work and then I'd have so much anxiety about going I either A-wouldn't go, B-go in late (that's when you know somethings wrong, I'm 15 minutes early for everything), or C-when I was there I would take excessive breaks because I just couldn't handle it. I was convinced that the customers were going to come get me, that in some secret way they could teleport and find me. I did a lot of ass kissing because of it.
Am I fully over my anxiety? Does one EVER fully get over anxiety? I take my pills as needed. I'm supposed to take 2 a day, but I find that to be a bit excessive. Maybe I'm in one of my good spells where I feel relatively calm about a lot of things. Mom's convinced I'm going to become codependent on them which is part of the reason I'm scaling back on taking them as much. I refuse to become any type of pill head.
I start morning shift today. I slept relatively well last night. I was having a great dream that I was going to the Turner (my father's side of the family) family reunion with my 2 cousins and Nicki Minaj in Chicago. Then it turned into Mom and I driving down the streets of a major city (I have no clue where) and I felt deflated because I wasn't going to Chicago. Odd what dreams are, and what they're trying to tell us.
Maybe I'll make this blog part of my morning routine. It will give me something to concentrate on and wake me up fully so I'm not nodding off at work. That was my downfall last time I had an early shift. I've wanted this shift since I got on the floor. I wish it were Monday-Friday, but it's the next best thing. I think part of the reason I hated working Saturday's before is because I didn't have 2 days off in a row. So we shall see.
Nate.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
I go crazy.
I've been in a quarter life crisis for 4 months. I feel my life rapidly unraveling beneath my eyes. It's ironic to me that the last time I wrote on here I was excited about the prospect of getting a new car. I did get that car and now it's collecting snow in my driveway broken down.
I don't really know how to coherently put into words exactly how I feel. First of all, I'm twenty fucking five. Did I just blink the past 4 years away. It seemed like 21 was so anticipated and took forever to get here and now I'm halfway through 20's going backwards. At 21 I had my own place, my own job, my own cell phone, my own paid for car (no, I didn't pay for it), and managed to feed myself AND go out to the bar 3 to 4 nights a week. I'm 25, I live with roommates, I have my own job, Mom pays for half my cellphone, I have a massive car payment, I never have grocery money, and I can't even go out to eat. The fucked up part is I make double now than I did then.
I keep reading all these self help blogs that tell you that you're not supposed to be a certain way at 25. That's how you're slowly ruining your life comparing and contrasting yourself to norm placed on you by society. I didn't follow the right paths. I flunked out of my first semester of college and I've made strides I've never completed. I gave up school to move to WV. I do have the best paying job I've ever had. So, progress? It's not like it does me any good. My attendance is shotty, I take extended breaks, it costs me time and money. I have to overdraft my bank account each payday to survive and now, that's not even enough.
I was hospitalized in October for a week when I thought I was having a heart attack. Turns out I had a panic attack caused by severe anxiety. I had that once before when I was at Marshall. In the process of running 1000 tests, I was diagnosed with diabetes. That fucked with my head. The whole thing was mortifying. I had to be transferred to another hospital because I was too heavy to do tests. I mean, who is too heavy for healthcare. It's kicked me into gear and I've managed to drop 37 pounds in a month and a half. But I feel myself starting to slip back into normal habits. I've cut back on the pharmacy of medications I'm supposed to and slipping sweets back into my diet. It's like something inside of me is afraid to succeed. Who am I if I"m not Nate, the cuddly fat boy? I've been that my entire life.
My car is broke. I'm so depressed. I go out to get dinner one day and it won't start, my radio comes on and my lights come on but nothing when I go to start it. I think it's the battery so I ask my roomies to jump me, no luck. So I go to Facebook for their 4000 opinions to see if I can get a few sustainable answers. It seems the consensus is the battery, alternator, or the starter. My money is on the starter. It died the day before I was to leave for Thanksgiving. Thank God for Greyhoud or I wouldn't have made it. Well I let it sit all Thanksgiving week while I'm gone, and I come back to a completely dead car. My automatic locks won't work, nothing responds. So I've subsequently killed my battery. I have no fucking idea where in the world to begin with this car. I obviously have a bad sensor too because the day it died my dome lights wouldn't go off automatically, so I shut them off manually. Obviously that didn't work and killed my battery. I'm convinced that a replacement battery isn't going to be my fix. I am not going to pay $115 for a battery and have autozone install it and still have no working vehicle. I need to get it towed to the mechanic. There's one by my house, and he's actually my landlord, but, he's a terrible landlord and because of this, I question his ability as a mechanic. I mean it took the asshole 6 days to hire somebody to fix our shower drain. I can't afford to have someone negligent.
It's not really all bad, I don't suppose. There are glasses of lemonade I've made from these lemons. The hospital stay and panic attack qualified me for Medicaid. Now, I can see a psychiatrist, therapist, and a family physician. All things that seemed like a hopeless possibility 8 weeks ago. I FINALLY have something for my anxiety. It's working well. My mind stays focused and I don't remind myself of everything bad that's happened to me over the course of 7 years. I'm less intimidated by customers. They're not going to come track me down because I won't credit off their late payment fee. I still am very nervous about things, but it's getting better.
This Thanksgiving marked the first time my entire family was together since my Grandfather died in 2001. Even back then we didn't have my youngest cousin. Not only were we together but it went smoothly. The ride there was less than stellar. Mom was anxious and bitchy and we had terrible weather. Once we got there it was great. I just love my family. I've always been a family person. I was very good about my diet and only ate one plate of food and 2 desserts. Then, at the Chinese buffet I again only had one plate. My family apparently noticed this and complimented me on it. I'm just so happy that we were there. This was 4 years in the making. My cousins are beautiful, and smart, and just good kids. My Aunt and Uncle are the ideal parents. My Gramma is silly as is my other Aunt. The 3 of us together is just an endless array of giggles. Mom is Mom. I've stopped trying to change her and just love her for who she is. I'm really happy I stayed an extra day and just had a day of me and her.
Despite not having a car Brittany works with me and now we have identical schedules So she's good for taking me to work and taking me places. I took her places when my car worked so it's just like an unwritten rule. I try not to take advantage of her.
What is there to say about my job? People are fucking stupid, and it's my job to educate them. It's not a bad gig at all. I mean it has all the contents I want. Office. Set schedule. I get to wear my own clothes. I work with great people. I have the best boss. The upper management is questionable. Every other day something is more important than the other. You always feel like your job is jeopardy. That part I don't like, and that's what stresses me out. I log out too much and I'm not getting paid like I should. I finally got switched to dayshift and I'm thinking it will help me tremendously. I'm a morning person.
I hate Brittany's boyfriend. He treats her like shit. He refuses to get help for his issues and he's just overall a despicable person. If I didn't have a shread of respect for Brittany I would just rip him a new asshole, but I know how bad of a situation that would be if I did. I couldn't do that to her. I'm just here to listen. And I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I'm sure he hates me too. I'm messy, I'm loud, I'm happy, my piss smells. Oh well. Just like I have to suck it up, so does he. I don't get to be a morose asshole all day because of it. The kicker of it, when he's in a good mood he's irresistible, but those good days are weeks in between. Oh, and let's not forget the fact he's refused to fuck her for 4 month (no, he's not cheating, that requires him to leave the house or be awake during daylight hours). Ugh. Enough about him.
God bless America, I want a boyfriend. I get so enraged at these people who are my age, getting divorces. And I"m so jealous of Brittany who has guys throwing themselves at her and I get not a fucking thing and I'm still in love with a man who moved on from me years ago and wasn't willing to commit to me but could commit to another man. It still makes me tear up thinking about it. I'm so desperately lonely. I want a companion. I have so much love to give.
I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders writing this. I've wanted to write for months but I lost my words trying to be creative instead of honest.
Nate
I don't really know how to coherently put into words exactly how I feel. First of all, I'm twenty fucking five. Did I just blink the past 4 years away. It seemed like 21 was so anticipated and took forever to get here and now I'm halfway through 20's going backwards. At 21 I had my own place, my own job, my own cell phone, my own paid for car (no, I didn't pay for it), and managed to feed myself AND go out to the bar 3 to 4 nights a week. I'm 25, I live with roommates, I have my own job, Mom pays for half my cellphone, I have a massive car payment, I never have grocery money, and I can't even go out to eat. The fucked up part is I make double now than I did then.
I keep reading all these self help blogs that tell you that you're not supposed to be a certain way at 25. That's how you're slowly ruining your life comparing and contrasting yourself to norm placed on you by society. I didn't follow the right paths. I flunked out of my first semester of college and I've made strides I've never completed. I gave up school to move to WV. I do have the best paying job I've ever had. So, progress? It's not like it does me any good. My attendance is shotty, I take extended breaks, it costs me time and money. I have to overdraft my bank account each payday to survive and now, that's not even enough.
I was hospitalized in October for a week when I thought I was having a heart attack. Turns out I had a panic attack caused by severe anxiety. I had that once before when I was at Marshall. In the process of running 1000 tests, I was diagnosed with diabetes. That fucked with my head. The whole thing was mortifying. I had to be transferred to another hospital because I was too heavy to do tests. I mean, who is too heavy for healthcare. It's kicked me into gear and I've managed to drop 37 pounds in a month and a half. But I feel myself starting to slip back into normal habits. I've cut back on the pharmacy of medications I'm supposed to and slipping sweets back into my diet. It's like something inside of me is afraid to succeed. Who am I if I"m not Nate, the cuddly fat boy? I've been that my entire life.
My car is broke. I'm so depressed. I go out to get dinner one day and it won't start, my radio comes on and my lights come on but nothing when I go to start it. I think it's the battery so I ask my roomies to jump me, no luck. So I go to Facebook for their 4000 opinions to see if I can get a few sustainable answers. It seems the consensus is the battery, alternator, or the starter. My money is on the starter. It died the day before I was to leave for Thanksgiving. Thank God for Greyhoud or I wouldn't have made it. Well I let it sit all Thanksgiving week while I'm gone, and I come back to a completely dead car. My automatic locks won't work, nothing responds. So I've subsequently killed my battery. I have no fucking idea where in the world to begin with this car. I obviously have a bad sensor too because the day it died my dome lights wouldn't go off automatically, so I shut them off manually. Obviously that didn't work and killed my battery. I'm convinced that a replacement battery isn't going to be my fix. I am not going to pay $115 for a battery and have autozone install it and still have no working vehicle. I need to get it towed to the mechanic. There's one by my house, and he's actually my landlord, but, he's a terrible landlord and because of this, I question his ability as a mechanic. I mean it took the asshole 6 days to hire somebody to fix our shower drain. I can't afford to have someone negligent.
It's not really all bad, I don't suppose. There are glasses of lemonade I've made from these lemons. The hospital stay and panic attack qualified me for Medicaid. Now, I can see a psychiatrist, therapist, and a family physician. All things that seemed like a hopeless possibility 8 weeks ago. I FINALLY have something for my anxiety. It's working well. My mind stays focused and I don't remind myself of everything bad that's happened to me over the course of 7 years. I'm less intimidated by customers. They're not going to come track me down because I won't credit off their late payment fee. I still am very nervous about things, but it's getting better.
This Thanksgiving marked the first time my entire family was together since my Grandfather died in 2001. Even back then we didn't have my youngest cousin. Not only were we together but it went smoothly. The ride there was less than stellar. Mom was anxious and bitchy and we had terrible weather. Once we got there it was great. I just love my family. I've always been a family person. I was very good about my diet and only ate one plate of food and 2 desserts. Then, at the Chinese buffet I again only had one plate. My family apparently noticed this and complimented me on it. I'm just so happy that we were there. This was 4 years in the making. My cousins are beautiful, and smart, and just good kids. My Aunt and Uncle are the ideal parents. My Gramma is silly as is my other Aunt. The 3 of us together is just an endless array of giggles. Mom is Mom. I've stopped trying to change her and just love her for who she is. I'm really happy I stayed an extra day and just had a day of me and her.
Despite not having a car Brittany works with me and now we have identical schedules So she's good for taking me to work and taking me places. I took her places when my car worked so it's just like an unwritten rule. I try not to take advantage of her.
What is there to say about my job? People are fucking stupid, and it's my job to educate them. It's not a bad gig at all. I mean it has all the contents I want. Office. Set schedule. I get to wear my own clothes. I work with great people. I have the best boss. The upper management is questionable. Every other day something is more important than the other. You always feel like your job is jeopardy. That part I don't like, and that's what stresses me out. I log out too much and I'm not getting paid like I should. I finally got switched to dayshift and I'm thinking it will help me tremendously. I'm a morning person.
I hate Brittany's boyfriend. He treats her like shit. He refuses to get help for his issues and he's just overall a despicable person. If I didn't have a shread of respect for Brittany I would just rip him a new asshole, but I know how bad of a situation that would be if I did. I couldn't do that to her. I'm just here to listen. And I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I'm sure he hates me too. I'm messy, I'm loud, I'm happy, my piss smells. Oh well. Just like I have to suck it up, so does he. I don't get to be a morose asshole all day because of it. The kicker of it, when he's in a good mood he's irresistible, but those good days are weeks in between. Oh, and let's not forget the fact he's refused to fuck her for 4 month (no, he's not cheating, that requires him to leave the house or be awake during daylight hours). Ugh. Enough about him.
God bless America, I want a boyfriend. I get so enraged at these people who are my age, getting divorces. And I"m so jealous of Brittany who has guys throwing themselves at her and I get not a fucking thing and I'm still in love with a man who moved on from me years ago and wasn't willing to commit to me but could commit to another man. It still makes me tear up thinking about it. I'm so desperately lonely. I want a companion. I have so much love to give.
I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders writing this. I've wanted to write for months but I lost my words trying to be creative instead of honest.
Nate
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