Dripping into orbit
LJ has not been saving my drafts, and this is part of the reason I haven't been updating lately. There are other reasons, too, of course. But I just want you guys to know that I value you and I read LJ every single day. Even though I'm not a frequent poster or a frequent commenter, this site is a big part of my social life. It's like going to a party and just sitting and listening to everyone's stories, for me. I might not say much, but I really enjoy "being around" you guys and soaking up your lives.
Anyway. This is what I've been up to.
So some of you may remember my friends Ward and Rabbit and the whole complicated situation surrounding our relationship. I try not to talk about this stuff much, but things have been weird and probably important, so I guess I should say something. Last winter, Ward underwent a voluntary psychiatric evaluation and was diagnosed with three different personality disorders, in addition to bipolar disorder "with a strong emphasis on mania." Unsurprisingly, this caused him a lot of distress, and he was a bit rocky for a few weeks.
He seemed to have settled down somewhat when, a bit out of the blue, he mentioned to me that one of the things he had realized through his years of therapy was that he isn't the type of person who can be in a relationship with someone who has true, soul-crushing clinical depression. So that made me kind of worry that he was thinking about breaking up with Rabbit. It's not really any of my business if he does or not, but since she is the one with the "true, soul-crushing clinical depression," I do worry. And I worry because I have known him for more than ten years and he has consistently displayed patterns of self-sabotage, especially where his relationships are involved.
So I asked him very casually what that meant for him and what he thought he might do about these feelings, and next thing I know he tells me he is going to take a while to get back to me because he has called out of work in a very bad mental place and is driving around aimlessly trying to convince himself not to drive off the nearest bridge. Well that escalated quickly. I didn't hear from him again all day, at which point he sent me a classic Ward message: "I don't mean to worry you. I don't want to worry you. Thank you. For everything you've done. Don't think about me. Don't worry about me. I'll make it through. That's just what happens. I love you... I'm sorry." That was the last I heard from him. That was seven months ago.
I know he's fine. I did my fair share of stalking. He just needs me out of his life for a while til he gets his shit together, or maybe forever. Between the therapy and whatever meds he ends up on, I guess we'll see what he wants and needs. But it wasn't until June that I FINALLY hit that moment that I've been waiting for for years, where my brain just gave up and said "Okay, we're not going to check up on them anymore." I didn't stop wanting to- I'm still fighting the urge, two months later- but I finally reached a point where my self-discipline was able to step in and wrest control from my obsession.
And when that happened, I also noticed that I lost a lot of interest in the internet in general. Posting and commenting here, and on FB, for instance, and on BoxyThoughts where I usually have a thriving community of friends. My interests have become more focused on the present. They are more concrete. I'm going for hikes and spending time at the beach and catching up with friends. My mood has improved measurably. (None of this is enough to suppress the obsession, of course. I'd happily throw all these improvements away just to see his latest profile picture. But I won't. For right now, I'm in control. Yet somehow no one seems to take me seriously when I say this relationship feels like a drug addiction to me. Hmm...)
It feels very strange, after six years, to finally be getting to a place of real healing about this. I'm taking control of the obsessions and compulsions. I've made an appointment to see a psychiatrist. I'm putting in the work I need to do, so if he ever comes back into my life he won't be a trigger for me anymore. I'm going to build a good life for myself. It's not going to my first choice, but it's going to be a good one. A life that can run with him in it, but that doesn't require his presence. All of a sudden I feel okay- and I hate it. I feel a strong sense of peace, but I feel an equally powerful sense of resentment towards that peace. Like I've spent years on stormy seas and suddenly I find myself in still waters. It's a better, safter situation, but I was good at navigating those stormy seas, and I'm feeling pretty dizzy now that I've stopped moving.
So that's that. Work has been rough in so many ways, but there's nothing really new worth talking about. Our population has swelled and died and swelled up to over-capacity again and again. Dogs who could have been saved under different circumstances have been put to sleep. Long-timers have gone home- and stayed home. We're finally up to full staff- I trained three new people this week and I'm still teaching puppy socialization classes every Thursday. I no longer want to kill myself or quit my job. I am always wondering how long I can last here, but I will continue to push myself to get everything out of this place that I can. I have so many responsibilities here that will be huge resume-boosters, and the longer I stay, the more confident I feel about these new skills that I'm learning- leadership and teaching skills especially. I'm reasonably confident that I will make it to my goal of three years here (I'll reach that next February), and after that, who knows. If I can manage the stress, this place is a great opportunity to grow, but it always seems to devolve into the same old, tired competition to prove that one person or group cares more about the welfare of animals than others. It's exhausting.
On the home front, Fiende's boss got a new job, and that means my man is getting a promotion! The department director and the HR have both been on alternating vacations, so things have been moving slowly, but we have been promised an answer by Tuesday. His boss had a meeting with the CEO in which they had decided that Fiende would get at $10k raise with his promotion, and then another $10k raise upon completion of several certification courses (to be paid for by the company), but it still has to go through HR, I guess. I don't know how that works, really, but I guess we'll see in a few days. He's getting very anxious about it, justifiably. He's afriad he won't get approved for the raise he wants. But I keep telling him that the problem is already solved. If he doesn't get what he's looking for, he will argue it, or he will get another job. That's all there is to it. He's in control- it's just a waiting game at this point, to see what route he will be taking to the goal.
I've kind of been on cloud nine ever since I found out about this. I hate talking about money, but the fact that this means we will be able to get a house within a year and a half is one of the most exciting things that's ever happened to me. Two bathrooms! A yard! A place where I can paint the walls and install shelves! And finally, the chance to start fostering dogs! I can't wait. I just can't freaking wait.
Anyway. This is what I've been up to.
So some of you may remember my friends Ward and Rabbit and the whole complicated situation surrounding our relationship. I try not to talk about this stuff much, but things have been weird and probably important, so I guess I should say something. Last winter, Ward underwent a voluntary psychiatric evaluation and was diagnosed with three different personality disorders, in addition to bipolar disorder "with a strong emphasis on mania." Unsurprisingly, this caused him a lot of distress, and he was a bit rocky for a few weeks.
He seemed to have settled down somewhat when, a bit out of the blue, he mentioned to me that one of the things he had realized through his years of therapy was that he isn't the type of person who can be in a relationship with someone who has true, soul-crushing clinical depression. So that made me kind of worry that he was thinking about breaking up with Rabbit. It's not really any of my business if he does or not, but since she is the one with the "true, soul-crushing clinical depression," I do worry. And I worry because I have known him for more than ten years and he has consistently displayed patterns of self-sabotage, especially where his relationships are involved.
So I asked him very casually what that meant for him and what he thought he might do about these feelings, and next thing I know he tells me he is going to take a while to get back to me because he has called out of work in a very bad mental place and is driving around aimlessly trying to convince himself not to drive off the nearest bridge. Well that escalated quickly. I didn't hear from him again all day, at which point he sent me a classic Ward message: "I don't mean to worry you. I don't want to worry you. Thank you. For everything you've done. Don't think about me. Don't worry about me. I'll make it through. That's just what happens. I love you... I'm sorry." That was the last I heard from him. That was seven months ago.
I know he's fine. I did my fair share of stalking. He just needs me out of his life for a while til he gets his shit together, or maybe forever. Between the therapy and whatever meds he ends up on, I guess we'll see what he wants and needs. But it wasn't until June that I FINALLY hit that moment that I've been waiting for for years, where my brain just gave up and said "Okay, we're not going to check up on them anymore." I didn't stop wanting to- I'm still fighting the urge, two months later- but I finally reached a point where my self-discipline was able to step in and wrest control from my obsession.
And when that happened, I also noticed that I lost a lot of interest in the internet in general. Posting and commenting here, and on FB, for instance, and on BoxyThoughts where I usually have a thriving community of friends. My interests have become more focused on the present. They are more concrete. I'm going for hikes and spending time at the beach and catching up with friends. My mood has improved measurably. (None of this is enough to suppress the obsession, of course. I'd happily throw all these improvements away just to see his latest profile picture. But I won't. For right now, I'm in control. Yet somehow no one seems to take me seriously when I say this relationship feels like a drug addiction to me. Hmm...)
It feels very strange, after six years, to finally be getting to a place of real healing about this. I'm taking control of the obsessions and compulsions. I've made an appointment to see a psychiatrist. I'm putting in the work I need to do, so if he ever comes back into my life he won't be a trigger for me anymore. I'm going to build a good life for myself. It's not going to my first choice, but it's going to be a good one. A life that can run with him in it, but that doesn't require his presence. All of a sudden I feel okay- and I hate it. I feel a strong sense of peace, but I feel an equally powerful sense of resentment towards that peace. Like I've spent years on stormy seas and suddenly I find myself in still waters. It's a better, safter situation, but I was good at navigating those stormy seas, and I'm feeling pretty dizzy now that I've stopped moving.
So that's that. Work has been rough in so many ways, but there's nothing really new worth talking about. Our population has swelled and died and swelled up to over-capacity again and again. Dogs who could have been saved under different circumstances have been put to sleep. Long-timers have gone home- and stayed home. We're finally up to full staff- I trained three new people this week and I'm still teaching puppy socialization classes every Thursday. I no longer want to kill myself or quit my job. I am always wondering how long I can last here, but I will continue to push myself to get everything out of this place that I can. I have so many responsibilities here that will be huge resume-boosters, and the longer I stay, the more confident I feel about these new skills that I'm learning- leadership and teaching skills especially. I'm reasonably confident that I will make it to my goal of three years here (I'll reach that next February), and after that, who knows. If I can manage the stress, this place is a great opportunity to grow, but it always seems to devolve into the same old, tired competition to prove that one person or group cares more about the welfare of animals than others. It's exhausting.
On the home front, Fiende's boss got a new job, and that means my man is getting a promotion! The department director and the HR have both been on alternating vacations, so things have been moving slowly, but we have been promised an answer by Tuesday. His boss had a meeting with the CEO in which they had decided that Fiende would get at $10k raise with his promotion, and then another $10k raise upon completion of several certification courses (to be paid for by the company), but it still has to go through HR, I guess. I don't know how that works, really, but I guess we'll see in a few days. He's getting very anxious about it, justifiably. He's afriad he won't get approved for the raise he wants. But I keep telling him that the problem is already solved. If he doesn't get what he's looking for, he will argue it, or he will get another job. That's all there is to it. He's in control- it's just a waiting game at this point, to see what route he will be taking to the goal.
I've kind of been on cloud nine ever since I found out about this. I hate talking about money, but the fact that this means we will be able to get a house within a year and a half is one of the most exciting things that's ever happened to me. Two bathrooms! A yard! A place where I can paint the walls and install shelves! And finally, the chance to start fostering dogs! I can't wait. I just can't freaking wait.