All of this has happened before...
Yeah, the wife and I started watching Battlestar Galactica a couple of weeks ago, and that's sorta stuck in my head. My journal isn't called "Phoenix" for nothing; I've come to realize that my life goes in cycles much like the infinitely looping life stages of the mythical bird.
I just got finished weeding through my old journal entries, deleting all of the silly memes and pointless posts that now have broken links and hold no interest even for me (about 300 posts, all told; I used to be incredibly active here). What's left is the posts that I want to keep, that I go back and read through from time to time in order to remember where I've been, and to prove to myself that no matter how bad I may feel right now, it could be (and has been) worse.
Warning: Contents of this entry may touch upon any or all of the following possible triggers: self-harm, depression, suicide, panic/anxiety disorders, rape, reckless self-destructive behavior, and/or self-important/self-pitying thoughts. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to read it, for whatever reason; I have strange, complicated reasons for wanting to use a public journal, and I totally get that not everyone wants to read about my personal drama.
I'm hoping that maybe if I get some of these thoughts out of my head, maybe it'll clear my head so I can get some more fun writing done.
So, I got fired. Yeah, I know I said it wouldn't happen because they needed me too much, but it turns out the corporate people don't really care if they have staffing. My pharmacy manager got fired too, which is small consolation considering I actually liked her as a person and as much as this may have screwed me over, at least I don't have to break a brand-new lease and move back to Canada.
I'm not really sad about losing the job; I hated it, and it was a constant source of stress that required medication more often than not. I had a promising job interview yesterday, and I'm even mostly certain that I'm going to get unemployment (did the telephone interview today, so I'll know in a week or so), so the situation isn't nearly as dire as it could be.
The problem is that now I have all day, every day free to think. I tried to fill the void by writing fic, but even that doesn't work half the time because my brain won't cooperate. Instead, I fall back into old habits; constantly questioning my worth as a person, berating myself for doing/not doing stupid little things (all the while still doing/not doing them), wondering whether I'll ever be capable of social interaction without a screen involved (with someone other than my wife, who is amazing and somehow manages to understand me even when I don't).
Fun fact about me: it's been almost ten years since I tried to kill myself. I didn't even quite realize it until I was typing that just now, that it's so close to such a big milestone. Ten years. An entire decade of my life that would never have happened if I hadn't e-mailed my suicide note instead of going the old-fashioned pen-and-paper route.
I don't regret it, not anymore. There was a good couple of years where all I could think about was how I had failed, that I was a screw-up even at killing myself. I've gotten past that now; I am genuinely grateful that my friend was online at school, and saw my e-mail in time to call 911 and save my life. If it weren't for her, I would never have seen my 18th birthday. Never gotten to meet the love of my life, and know the joy of being - legally - married in San Francisco City Hall. I would never have held my baby niece in my arms, or seen New York City, or been to Disneyworld. There is so much I never would have gotten to experience.
On the other hand, I would never have been raped (and had to deal with the accompanying victim's guilt when my friends took his side over mine). I wouldn't have been kicked out of my mother's house - twice - and known the pain of being rejected by both of my parents, when I needed their love and support most. I wouldn't be tens of thousands of dollars in debt due to starting out my adult life not really caring about the consequences of my actions.
A lot can happen in ten years. I've had times when I felt just as low as I did on that day; where if I'd had the motivation and the means, I would have tried again. Then again, I've had times where I've felt so completely whole and full of joy that I can't imagine never having lived long enough to experience them.
Life has its ups and downs, I guess. Only for me, it's less like a rollercoaster and more like a constant cycle of shattering to pieces and getting glued back together, only to be broken again. I go through these dark times, where I can't see any hope for the future, and I wonder why I even bother; then, slowly but surely, things get better, and I start to plan and dream all over again.
The good news, I suppose, is that the "downs" aren't going as low anymore, and the "ups" last longer. I haven't cut myself in at least five years (granted, a lot of that sometimes is that my wife would kill me), and I haven't honestly contemplated suicide for even longer. Instead of being convinced that nothing will ever go right for me, I find it pretty easy to tell myself that somehow, things will find a way to work out. The pieces that I get broken into are bigger and easier to put back together - the difference between a 5000-piece Ravensburger puzzle and a little 24-piece My Little Pony one.
I guess I always thought that "better" was an actual place, an achievement to be unlocked like a door, and once I went through it would close behind me and I'd be a happy, well-adjusted adult who didn't constantly regress to being an inept, emotionally stunted, awkward teenager. I'm twenty-seven years old; I would have thought I'd be past that point by now.
The truth is, "better" is a process. It's hard, and painful, and most of the time it feels like I'm fighting a losing battle, but even if I take two steps back, at least I took that step forward. It may be slow going, but I am learning.
Huh. I don't know when this shifted from "random slightly depressing contemplation" to my own version of an "It Gets Better" video, but I suppose it's fitting, considering Spirit Day ended only a few hours ago.
I never really had to deal with discrimination or bullying - not in the way that too many kids have to deal with it every day. Growing up in/around San Francisco, being raised by an ultra-liberal hippie stoner will kinda do that. My sexuality was always a non-issue, and for that I was lucky.
But I know fear, and pain, and the feeling that no matter what I do, it won't make any difference in the end because none of it means anything. I know what it feels like to want to die, more than anything else in the world, because then at least it'd be over and I wouldn't have to fight anymore. And hey...for what it's worth, it did get better. It's still getting better. And even when it gets worse, "worse" is better than it ever was before, if that makes any sense to anyone not currently living in my head.
And now I'm losing focus and starting to ramble (starting? LOL no seriously - this could have been a lot longer), so I'll stop. I can't promise I won't do this again, because when my head is clogged up with thoughts, the only thing that makes it better is getting them out. But I can promise to give you ample warning, so you can steer clear. :P
I just got finished weeding through my old journal entries, deleting all of the silly memes and pointless posts that now have broken links and hold no interest even for me (about 300 posts, all told; I used to be incredibly active here). What's left is the posts that I want to keep, that I go back and read through from time to time in order to remember where I've been, and to prove to myself that no matter how bad I may feel right now, it could be (and has been) worse.
Warning: Contents of this entry may touch upon any or all of the following possible triggers: self-harm, depression, suicide, panic/anxiety disorders, rape, reckless self-destructive behavior, and/or self-important/self-pitying thoughts. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to read it, for whatever reason; I have strange, complicated reasons for wanting to use a public journal, and I totally get that not everyone wants to read about my personal drama.
I'm hoping that maybe if I get some of these thoughts out of my head, maybe it'll clear my head so I can get some more fun writing done.
So, I got fired. Yeah, I know I said it wouldn't happen because they needed me too much, but it turns out the corporate people don't really care if they have staffing. My pharmacy manager got fired too, which is small consolation considering I actually liked her as a person and as much as this may have screwed me over, at least I don't have to break a brand-new lease and move back to Canada.
I'm not really sad about losing the job; I hated it, and it was a constant source of stress that required medication more often than not. I had a promising job interview yesterday, and I'm even mostly certain that I'm going to get unemployment (did the telephone interview today, so I'll know in a week or so), so the situation isn't nearly as dire as it could be.
The problem is that now I have all day, every day free to think. I tried to fill the void by writing fic, but even that doesn't work half the time because my brain won't cooperate. Instead, I fall back into old habits; constantly questioning my worth as a person, berating myself for doing/not doing stupid little things (all the while still doing/not doing them), wondering whether I'll ever be capable of social interaction without a screen involved (with someone other than my wife, who is amazing and somehow manages to understand me even when I don't).
Fun fact about me: it's been almost ten years since I tried to kill myself. I didn't even quite realize it until I was typing that just now, that it's so close to such a big milestone. Ten years. An entire decade of my life that would never have happened if I hadn't e-mailed my suicide note instead of going the old-fashioned pen-and-paper route.
I don't regret it, not anymore. There was a good couple of years where all I could think about was how I had failed, that I was a screw-up even at killing myself. I've gotten past that now; I am genuinely grateful that my friend was online at school, and saw my e-mail in time to call 911 and save my life. If it weren't for her, I would never have seen my 18th birthday. Never gotten to meet the love of my life, and know the joy of being - legally - married in San Francisco City Hall. I would never have held my baby niece in my arms, or seen New York City, or been to Disneyworld. There is so much I never would have gotten to experience.
On the other hand, I would never have been raped (and had to deal with the accompanying victim's guilt when my friends took his side over mine). I wouldn't have been kicked out of my mother's house - twice - and known the pain of being rejected by both of my parents, when I needed their love and support most. I wouldn't be tens of thousands of dollars in debt due to starting out my adult life not really caring about the consequences of my actions.
A lot can happen in ten years. I've had times when I felt just as low as I did on that day; where if I'd had the motivation and the means, I would have tried again. Then again, I've had times where I've felt so completely whole and full of joy that I can't imagine never having lived long enough to experience them.
Life has its ups and downs, I guess. Only for me, it's less like a rollercoaster and more like a constant cycle of shattering to pieces and getting glued back together, only to be broken again. I go through these dark times, where I can't see any hope for the future, and I wonder why I even bother; then, slowly but surely, things get better, and I start to plan and dream all over again.
The good news, I suppose, is that the "downs" aren't going as low anymore, and the "ups" last longer. I haven't cut myself in at least five years (granted, a lot of that sometimes is that my wife would kill me), and I haven't honestly contemplated suicide for even longer. Instead of being convinced that nothing will ever go right for me, I find it pretty easy to tell myself that somehow, things will find a way to work out. The pieces that I get broken into are bigger and easier to put back together - the difference between a 5000-piece Ravensburger puzzle and a little 24-piece My Little Pony one.
I guess I always thought that "better" was an actual place, an achievement to be unlocked like a door, and once I went through it would close behind me and I'd be a happy, well-adjusted adult who didn't constantly regress to being an inept, emotionally stunted, awkward teenager. I'm twenty-seven years old; I would have thought I'd be past that point by now.
The truth is, "better" is a process. It's hard, and painful, and most of the time it feels like I'm fighting a losing battle, but even if I take two steps back, at least I took that step forward. It may be slow going, but I am learning.
Huh. I don't know when this shifted from "random slightly depressing contemplation" to my own version of an "It Gets Better" video, but I suppose it's fitting, considering Spirit Day ended only a few hours ago.
I never really had to deal with discrimination or bullying - not in the way that too many kids have to deal with it every day. Growing up in/around San Francisco, being raised by an ultra-liberal hippie stoner will kinda do that. My sexuality was always a non-issue, and for that I was lucky.
But I know fear, and pain, and the feeling that no matter what I do, it won't make any difference in the end because none of it means anything. I know what it feels like to want to die, more than anything else in the world, because then at least it'd be over and I wouldn't have to fight anymore. And hey...for what it's worth, it did get better. It's still getting better. And even when it gets worse, "worse" is better than it ever was before, if that makes any sense to anyone not currently living in my head.
And now I'm losing focus and starting to ramble (starting? LOL no seriously - this could have been a lot longer), so I'll stop. I can't promise I won't do this again, because when my head is clogged up with thoughts, the only thing that makes it better is getting them out. But I can promise to give you ample warning, so you can steer clear. :P