i was doing so well
It's been a few weeks since i drank more than one or two beers. Like, that's how i control it, i only buy one or two, and then i only drink one or two. And, lately, that's only been once a week or so. Alcohol fucking sucks.
I have this problem where if i look at something then it manifests. I can't remember what the prompt was to listen to The Cure last night, but then autobiographical association happened and Alien Sex Fiend came into my head, and specifically the song Manic Depression, and now i can't get it out of my head.
I'm not ignorant. I know that spending months barely leaving the house and feeling unmotivated to do anything was about more than just winter and the pandemic. I know that this rapid turnaround into buying more shit than i have bought in years is not just savvy travel planning. That's part of it too, of course, but it's not the whole story. It's the insidiousness of mental illness, i suppose, how it wraps itself around your everyday life, and people on the outside looking in just think, meh, that's normal, no big deal.
But, i mean, i did get diagnosed by several different specialists. I was on medication for many years. I did spend time as a psychiatric inpatient. That stuff happened. It wasn't just a weird phase in my 20s. I still live with those emotional shifts, i just manage them much better now because i don't have any friends or family to shine a light on it.
Most of the time i never think about being trans, or manic depressive, or whatever. Because most of the time it doesn't really make a lot of waves. I live a simple life, i live like a hermit, nobody really has to put up with my shit. When strangers get too familiar, when i start getting recognized, i leave. I don't let myself get defined by how other people see me.
But sometimes - not often, because i've gotten good at avoiding it - something triggers a bit of introspection. A deeper form of introspection than my mild navel-gazing of the past few years, something that digs up old memories of gender dysphoria or depression or mania or delusions and then it sends me spinning. And then the emotions domino and i feel right on the verge of cracking. And then i get that thing where you're on the edge of a cliff, and you just wanna jump because - fuck - it's going to feel incredible, for a brief moment, isn't it?
This is what i mean where if i look at something then it manifests. Choosing not to look at certain things isn't me trying to escape my truth, or avoid dealing with my problems. I have done more than enough of that in my life, thank you very much. It's just a coping mechanism. It's how i have learned to live without medication, it's how i have learned to live relatively happy, stable and at peace. I won't make apologies for it.
But... that said... doesn't mean that the madness isn't still there, that these things don't impact me, quietly.
I need to go outside and get some fresh air, try to break out of the spiral. But outside the air is thick with wildfire smoke. I can taste it in the back of my throat, even inside the house with all the windows closed. The hangover isn't helping either.
It probably wasn't a great idea to watch the live stream hosted by Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc about the findings on the site of the residential school just across the river.
Although... it does provide some perspective. Some have been through a lot worse than me, and they kept going. So will i. The only way out is through.
I gave my notice. I will be out of here by August 15.
I have this problem where if i look at something then it manifests. I can't remember what the prompt was to listen to The Cure last night, but then autobiographical association happened and Alien Sex Fiend came into my head, and specifically the song Manic Depression, and now i can't get it out of my head.
I'm not ignorant. I know that spending months barely leaving the house and feeling unmotivated to do anything was about more than just winter and the pandemic. I know that this rapid turnaround into buying more shit than i have bought in years is not just savvy travel planning. That's part of it too, of course, but it's not the whole story. It's the insidiousness of mental illness, i suppose, how it wraps itself around your everyday life, and people on the outside looking in just think, meh, that's normal, no big deal.
But, i mean, i did get diagnosed by several different specialists. I was on medication for many years. I did spend time as a psychiatric inpatient. That stuff happened. It wasn't just a weird phase in my 20s. I still live with those emotional shifts, i just manage them much better now because i don't have any friends or family to shine a light on it.
Most of the time i never think about being trans, or manic depressive, or whatever. Because most of the time it doesn't really make a lot of waves. I live a simple life, i live like a hermit, nobody really has to put up with my shit. When strangers get too familiar, when i start getting recognized, i leave. I don't let myself get defined by how other people see me.
But sometimes - not often, because i've gotten good at avoiding it - something triggers a bit of introspection. A deeper form of introspection than my mild navel-gazing of the past few years, something that digs up old memories of gender dysphoria or depression or mania or delusions and then it sends me spinning. And then the emotions domino and i feel right on the verge of cracking. And then i get that thing where you're on the edge of a cliff, and you just wanna jump because - fuck - it's going to feel incredible, for a brief moment, isn't it?
This is what i mean where if i look at something then it manifests. Choosing not to look at certain things isn't me trying to escape my truth, or avoid dealing with my problems. I have done more than enough of that in my life, thank you very much. It's just a coping mechanism. It's how i have learned to live without medication, it's how i have learned to live relatively happy, stable and at peace. I won't make apologies for it.
But... that said... doesn't mean that the madness isn't still there, that these things don't impact me, quietly.
I need to go outside and get some fresh air, try to break out of the spiral. But outside the air is thick with wildfire smoke. I can taste it in the back of my throat, even inside the house with all the windows closed. The hangover isn't helping either.
It probably wasn't a great idea to watch the live stream hosted by Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc about the findings on the site of the residential school just across the river.
Although... it does provide some perspective. Some have been through a lot worse than me, and they kept going. So will i. The only way out is through.
I gave my notice. I will be out of here by August 15.