(no subject)
I'm not exactly sure what's going on.
But, I know something is going on. It's not a very fun thing either.
Let's consider the fact that I'm sick. Yes, I'm sick. I've been sick for a week, possibly two or three, I've lost count. I know I was sick at one point, there seemed to be a break for a few days, then it came back with a vengeance.
I have not had a cigarette in three weeks though, this is a good thing. I am satisfied with this. It is good.
This is not the only sickness I am dealing with though. I think I could possibly be ready to just admit that I am dealing with and probably have been dealing with, for the better part of my life, some kind of mental illness. I'm not completely convinced it's major depression as has been most recently (2 yrs ago) diagnosed, but I'm at least believing at this point there is something.
I realized something in the last few days which I really can't refute. The most productive, healthy and happy I've been since quitting drinking have been the two periods of time during which I was medicated. Now, for a twenty-six, then twenty-eight year old man(boy), there is one terrible side effect. It's of the sexual nature. And I'm not going to try and blow my own horn here, but when I'm feeling well, and I'm out and about living life, I do pretty well with women, meeting them or attracting them anyway. It's a double edged sword. I get on medication, I come out of myself near fully, I meet a girl, I want to stop taking the medication. This is not good.
I also know at this point, that sitting here right now, I can say I don't care about that, and that feeling better and geting myself on my feet again is more important than anything else and absolutely mean it. Come some three or four months, six months from now when I've been on it for a while and things are looking up and I meet a girl, the tune will change. I know this too.
I do know that right now, I'm going to have to start looking at seeing someone. I'm just not really very well right now. I'm not suicidal at this point, but I've been down this road before and if I don't get some help soon, that's where it's going to end up. I know this. I have walked this path enough times already. I am really just not at all interested in going back to the hospital. I am really just not interested in falling apart again, nor am I interested in putting the people close to me whom I care about through that again. It sucks, all around.
It was my room mate who actually got me thinking about this in a way.
I don't think I've been doing very well for some months now, possibly as long as a year now that I think of it. Anyway, my room mate is a nonstop kind of guy, always heading here, always heading there, doing this and that. I was wondering how the hell he does this, and the thought dawned on me that when we met, I was the same way. I was sponsoring twelve different guys (literally), working part time, dating, doing service work and doing it all without much of a problem. I was occassionally tired and would have to get some extra sleep in there, but it wa ok more or less. I was on medication at the time though. Since I've stopped the medication, there has been a steady decline in what I'm doing, where I'm going and any impetus to do any of that. My mind presents me with perfectly plausible reasons for all of this, but in reality, looking at the long term effects, it makes no real sense.
In fact, these days, I'm dealing with some anxiety and some real trepidation when considering trying to do more than I am now. I'm not doing much and what I'm doing now is overwhelming me. I think that was kind of the first sign, realizing I'm not doing much at all and all of it is completely overwhelming.
I'm beginning to also be ready to start to look at some other factors as well. One is the possibility of something in the vicinity of relating to PTSD. One thing I can put together is that most of the things which have and are causing me the most debilitating and uncontrolled axiety and plain old terror are all regarding authority. Authority though, doesn't seem to be the problem. I have people and figures in my life whom I've assigned authority to, and there is no problem with them. I am in fact, very willing and very able to follow instruction, direction, and suggestion in this case. On the other hand, it's the authority or more pointedly, the individual or entity with power which I haven't assigned. It is the loss of power, in a way, but not quite so much as the lack of identity. I can't describe it or am having trouble describing it. There's some combination of there being a lack of identity in the eyes of power, and the power being taken or assigned without me saying so. That might seem strange to some people. To them, this may seem a regular part of life. Rape victims would probably best understand this.
I can't handle the feeling of being completely at the mercy of someone or something else. It's absolutely terrifying. I can't even bring myself to get near situations which put me in that position. It's just pure terror actually. People have long called it laziness, but I'm starting to figure out that it's not quite that. There's no reason for me to have such a deep, strong and unshakable dislike for the people higher up the ladder where I work. They've always been nice to me, they've always given me compliments on what I do. At the same time, I'm so terriffied of them, I hate them for no rational reason.
I'm also considering there's some possibility of results of multiple head injury here too. I mean, I've had way too many concussions in my lifetime. I cracked my skull before I started school. I've lost consciousness on more than one occasion from them. I'm not sure.
What I'm getting at is that I think there's more wrong here than just plain old alcoholism. I think at this point, the alcoholism is well treated. I also have my doubts that whatever else is going on here is just plainly psychological. There seems to me something more organic or physiological going on with me.
The fact that I start getting like this given any extended amount of time when I'm untreated by psychiatric professionals should probably say something.
One of my great fears has always been that I've just spent so much time dealing with the psychiatric community that it's somehow normal for me. I've gotten so used to it, I don't feel normal without it in a way.
At the exact same time, I've always had a very healthy fear of some very severe mental illness presenting itself this late in life. I know some of them don't always show up till later.
What I do know beyond shadow of a doubt is that things aren't right with me, and I can't fix them by myself.
The only things abundantly clear are that I am not really right somehow, and I am damn near positive I am somehow not quite like everyone else. I'm not saying this as an excuse at all. It's just more a statement of fact. I can't seem to be able to do all of the normal shit other people do, and at this point, it's not for lack of effort or desire. Something's definitely not right with me and I really wish it would be easier to figure out what's going on.
But, I know something is going on. It's not a very fun thing either.
Let's consider the fact that I'm sick. Yes, I'm sick. I've been sick for a week, possibly two or three, I've lost count. I know I was sick at one point, there seemed to be a break for a few days, then it came back with a vengeance.
I have not had a cigarette in three weeks though, this is a good thing. I am satisfied with this. It is good.
This is not the only sickness I am dealing with though. I think I could possibly be ready to just admit that I am dealing with and probably have been dealing with, for the better part of my life, some kind of mental illness. I'm not completely convinced it's major depression as has been most recently (2 yrs ago) diagnosed, but I'm at least believing at this point there is something.
I realized something in the last few days which I really can't refute. The most productive, healthy and happy I've been since quitting drinking have been the two periods of time during which I was medicated. Now, for a twenty-six, then twenty-eight year old man(boy), there is one terrible side effect. It's of the sexual nature. And I'm not going to try and blow my own horn here, but when I'm feeling well, and I'm out and about living life, I do pretty well with women, meeting them or attracting them anyway. It's a double edged sword. I get on medication, I come out of myself near fully, I meet a girl, I want to stop taking the medication. This is not good.
I also know at this point, that sitting here right now, I can say I don't care about that, and that feeling better and geting myself on my feet again is more important than anything else and absolutely mean it. Come some three or four months, six months from now when I've been on it for a while and things are looking up and I meet a girl, the tune will change. I know this too.
I do know that right now, I'm going to have to start looking at seeing someone. I'm just not really very well right now. I'm not suicidal at this point, but I've been down this road before and if I don't get some help soon, that's where it's going to end up. I know this. I have walked this path enough times already. I am really just not at all interested in going back to the hospital. I am really just not interested in falling apart again, nor am I interested in putting the people close to me whom I care about through that again. It sucks, all around.
It was my room mate who actually got me thinking about this in a way.
I don't think I've been doing very well for some months now, possibly as long as a year now that I think of it. Anyway, my room mate is a nonstop kind of guy, always heading here, always heading there, doing this and that. I was wondering how the hell he does this, and the thought dawned on me that when we met, I was the same way. I was sponsoring twelve different guys (literally), working part time, dating, doing service work and doing it all without much of a problem. I was occassionally tired and would have to get some extra sleep in there, but it wa ok more or less. I was on medication at the time though. Since I've stopped the medication, there has been a steady decline in what I'm doing, where I'm going and any impetus to do any of that. My mind presents me with perfectly plausible reasons for all of this, but in reality, looking at the long term effects, it makes no real sense.
In fact, these days, I'm dealing with some anxiety and some real trepidation when considering trying to do more than I am now. I'm not doing much and what I'm doing now is overwhelming me. I think that was kind of the first sign, realizing I'm not doing much at all and all of it is completely overwhelming.
I'm beginning to also be ready to start to look at some other factors as well. One is the possibility of something in the vicinity of relating to PTSD. One thing I can put together is that most of the things which have and are causing me the most debilitating and uncontrolled axiety and plain old terror are all regarding authority. Authority though, doesn't seem to be the problem. I have people and figures in my life whom I've assigned authority to, and there is no problem with them. I am in fact, very willing and very able to follow instruction, direction, and suggestion in this case. On the other hand, it's the authority or more pointedly, the individual or entity with power which I haven't assigned. It is the loss of power, in a way, but not quite so much as the lack of identity. I can't describe it or am having trouble describing it. There's some combination of there being a lack of identity in the eyes of power, and the power being taken or assigned without me saying so. That might seem strange to some people. To them, this may seem a regular part of life. Rape victims would probably best understand this.
I can't handle the feeling of being completely at the mercy of someone or something else. It's absolutely terrifying. I can't even bring myself to get near situations which put me in that position. It's just pure terror actually. People have long called it laziness, but I'm starting to figure out that it's not quite that. There's no reason for me to have such a deep, strong and unshakable dislike for the people higher up the ladder where I work. They've always been nice to me, they've always given me compliments on what I do. At the same time, I'm so terriffied of them, I hate them for no rational reason.
I'm also considering there's some possibility of results of multiple head injury here too. I mean, I've had way too many concussions in my lifetime. I cracked my skull before I started school. I've lost consciousness on more than one occasion from them. I'm not sure.
What I'm getting at is that I think there's more wrong here than just plain old alcoholism. I think at this point, the alcoholism is well treated. I also have my doubts that whatever else is going on here is just plainly psychological. There seems to me something more organic or physiological going on with me.
The fact that I start getting like this given any extended amount of time when I'm untreated by psychiatric professionals should probably say something.
One of my great fears has always been that I've just spent so much time dealing with the psychiatric community that it's somehow normal for me. I've gotten so used to it, I don't feel normal without it in a way.
At the exact same time, I've always had a very healthy fear of some very severe mental illness presenting itself this late in life. I know some of them don't always show up till later.
What I do know beyond shadow of a doubt is that things aren't right with me, and I can't fix them by myself.
The only things abundantly clear are that I am not really right somehow, and I am damn near positive I am somehow not quite like everyone else. I'm not saying this as an excuse at all. It's just more a statement of fact. I can't seem to be able to do all of the normal shit other people do, and at this point, it's not for lack of effort or desire. Something's definitely not right with me and I really wish it would be easier to figure out what's going on.