waving goodbye

So I think I'm going to get the job. It's not the job I ever wanted, but it's a living. Soon I'll be out living on my own and ah... I don't know. I guess just continuing to fade away.

I'm very jealous of all of you. All of you people with "lives" and friends and things to do and lovers to kiss and futures to look forward to. I had all those things once. Or at least I thought I did. I'm really not sure what happened.

just standing around and i don't know why

I'm really not in the mood to write right now, especially given that I just got done writing a paper for school... but I'm going to do it anyway, just to stay in practice.

Right now I am just numb. I have spent almost the entire weekend in my house, and I am going further insane than usual. I still haven't heard from the company I was supposed to start working for... God only knows what has happened. If I don't get the job, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. I have no real experience or job skills... and all of the other entry-level jobs I've found are either dead-end jobs or don't pay well enough to enable me to live on my own -- which is something I really want to do desperately. In this house, I just feel like I'm waiting to die.

I remember back when I was 18 and had moved back home after flunking out of college... I had never intended to come back home after I left for school. But there I was, feeling like the world's biggest failure. And here I am, more years than I care to count later, and the feeling hasn't changed...

I don't know where I'm going with this. But every year I feel like something has got to give... but nothing ever does. I guess if I want anything, I have to go get it... but that's a prospect that has always scared me to death.

back in my cage

I'm back.

When I arrived there I thought I'd completely lost my mind. Why in the world was I checking into this hotel so far away from home, alone? Especially in such a bad frame of mind? I hated the place... nothing but bad memories. I considered leaving back for home that night.

A few hours later I didn't want to go home anymore. By the next day I wasn't sure if I EVER wanted to go home again.

I loved being able to stay up as late as I wanted without tiptoeing around the house. I loved being able to take a shower with the bathroom door open. I loved having a nice porch on which I could sit and read in peace.

It was wonderful to be able to meditate in silence. To say my prayers out loud. To sing. To wake up, not be woken up.

To be able to go out and take a long walk at night without cars whizzing past, without having to smile and say hello to neighbors I don't like, without being stared at like I'm some burglar by neighbors I don't know.

There, I felt like my own human being. Here, I'm part who I think these other people want me to be and part smoldering resentment over the fact that I'm incapable of being who I want to be.

There, I just was who I was. A bit rougher, a bit less people-pleasing, a bit more vulgar... every bit as confused, but at least I wasn't something I was not. I was comfortable in my ugliness. And I think I was more willing and able to change it, maybe. Because it wasn't for other's sake or for appearance's sake. It was for my own.

taking a deep breath

Alas, I don't deal with stress too well. It appears I'm going to have my impromptu vacation. I've been a jittery mess the last three days -- I'm getting a little manic -- difficulty sleeping, racing thoughts, anxiety, periods of euphoria, etc.

I've also been craving alcohol... so I'm a little worried, especially since I've made my trip plans and I'll be going away for the first time in almost two years.

I'm trying to stay on an even keel and just hang with it. Wish me luck.

All dressed up

So, my last day at work is Saturday and the paperwork for my new job has hit a snag... which means my start date may be delayed for as long as two weeks... which means I'll have nothing to do... and sitting at home drives me nuts.

So, assuming I don't start next week, what do I do? I'd like to go somewhere, but I don't like the idea of traveling for pleasure alone... it's depressing and I think I'd look like a weirdo. That, and a margarita at the beach might be extremely hard to turn down without someone to talk me out of it... Come to think of it, I haven't traveled anywhere since I've been sober. And I always got extremely drunk on vacations.

I do have one friend getting out of school for the summer next week... and one friend high enough up in his company that he might be able to skip town with short notice... and I have a friend I could visit out in Phoenix... but what is there to do in Phoenix? I'm thinking beach... warm sun and scantily clad women. San Diego/LA? Catch a Lakers game? Miami?

Guess I'll see what happens when I talk to the H.R. guy tomorrow.

Thanks

Thanks to shaye and celestial blue for putting links up to here on their blogs. I'm flattered, but I'm also a little embarrassed because your blogs are relatively clean and wholesome, while this one isn't always...

I'm going to put links up to your sites unless you complain.

What elephant?

Should I be studying, or should I be blogging?

I don't know, but this feels more right at the time. That and I've been pathologically avoiding studying over the past few days. One thing I've learned over the years is that avoiding a small activity is usually a way of mentally avoiding something even larger or deeper. Like right now, I'm sure I'm avoiding thinking about completing my degree.

I'm a major avoider and a major procrastinator -- we alcoholics and children of alcoholics are like that. The way out is through the bottle -- there, it's gone now, isn't it?

I once trashed my perfect credit rating because I stopped paying my credit card bills. I had the money to pay them. But I didn't -- I told myself a dozen excuses of why I couldn't. The real reason? I'd actually have to face up to the fact that my savings were dwindling down and I would soon be broke -- which would mean I'd have to find a job. Which I couldn't do -- I was drinking 'round the clock. And I did that because of all the other things I didn't dare look at...

But this isn't what I wanted to write about tonight -- that's right, I'm avoiding it -- but I'll get to it in time.

Been Here Before

So, what's new?

Not a lot of good, despite possibly getting one of the big things I was asking for -- the new job.

I went to my shrink the other week, and she gave me an assignment -- a mood chart to complete each day, along with instructions to keep a short diary writing down what I've done each day. So most of the chronicles of my miserable existence have been shifted to paper.

I'm so cranky and down right now. But if I can't let it out here, where can I?

My online class has gobbled up way more time than I thought it would have. It's nice to have something to do in the time I'm not working, but it's awfully boring at times and I can't seem to find time to do the things I used to like to do for a few hours each week -- this blog, reading, watching one or two shows or games.

One strange thing about my moods that I've never quite been able to convey to anyone is my tendency to simultaneously be "up" and "down." I can be hyper and wired, thoughts racing, and just wanting to curl up somewhere and die. I've felt like that quite a bit the past few days.

And every time I get into one of these mood grooves I can't help but believe that I'll never get out of it, even though I always do. But knowing that is of no consolation. I always come to revisit the dark places I've been before. My life is one f----ed up carnival ride. New medications and new people shift the view a bit but it always ends up the same.

And now the only things that kept me going -- the alcohol, the infatuations, the youthful optimism -- are gone and I'm just riding this ride for the twenty-sixth time and each time it keeps getting more depressing. I'm so used to it that I don't even really want to die anymore like I used to think I did. I've made it this long and I'll make it all the way through till someone or something else takes me. Who knows where the ride goes from there. I don't really even care about that anymore -- well, I hope there isn't a hell -- but if it just ends, that's perfectly cool. Really. The carrot doesn't work anymore. It's always yanked away -- Lucy never lets Charlie Brown kick the f---ing football. The only thing that keeps me honest is the stick -- that bit of fear that still stays with me from Sunday school. So I go on in the world, living a life of trying not to screw things up anymore, waiting to die.

And still part of me still hopes there's a way f---ing out of here.

OK, a stupid post. But it's how I feel.