2018, the battle is over but the war continues
2007 just moved back to edinburgh
2008 http://figg.livejournal.com/314729.html
2009 http://figg.livejournal.com/343616.html
2010 http://figg.livejournal.com/346046.html
2011 http://figg.livejournal.com/346441.html
2012 http://figg.livejournal.com/347985.html
2013 http://figg.livejournal.com/348330.html
2014 http://figg.livejournal.com/348456.html
2015 http://figg.livejournal.com/348903.html
2016 https://figg.livejournal.com/349076.html
2017 https://figg.livejournal.com/349340.html
It's weird as hell that I can go back a whole ten years and see how much has changed. Or how little.
Last year I wrote:
2017 has been a year where I've been forced to confront my own inadequacies, and as a result, one year on, I feel like nothing has changed.
2018? I can't wait.
I got a job. I ended up speaking to Grace again after two years of complete silence. Somehow or other I'm poly again, and I'm seeing Poonum too. Other than that I didn't really leave london, or my house much. EMF was fun, though.
That's it, really.
I spent the first few months in a panic over employment. I've been told "you have too much ADHD" several times now.
Eventually I got a job, and I got my friend hired as a VP too! They let me sleep when I need and it is amazing to have such humanity shown to me. I mean, I'm still very depressed, but they aren't making things worse-if anything, work is helping. It's quite a change.
I also spent a few months with the dentist-I'm almost taking care of myself. I'm back to normal, just barely functioning, eating at least once a day, and not getting into too much trouble at work.
Outside of surviving: reconnecting with Grace was something I didn't expect to happen, and it gives me some hope that the other bridges I burned aren't as structurally damaged as once thought.
I'm still in my fancy cupboard flat, next to a beautiful park. I'm still smoking too much, but I've cut down the drinking entirely. Fasting on and off these last few years has wrecked my alcohol tolerance, and I find myself being a sad drunk more than ever.
I guess I'm back to waving-not-drowning. My burnout rate is up to 'once every 20 months' from 'once every 18'. I'm getting better, but I've been far more avoidant and isolate than ever.
I still see the hackspace crew of 2015, I got my new job through that clique, but it feels like almost everyone else from 2015 has moved on, left the UK, or just doesn't swim in the same circles as I do anymore. Moving to south london helped in many ways, but i've struggled to build any sort of regular social activities down here.
(It's worth mentioning that folk like Tom, Daniel, and a few others, have made an effort to hang out this year, despite the scheduling issues, and I still really appreciate it)
People ask "want to hang around and start drinking at midday in your timezone", and I reply "oh, that's going to be difficult" and pretend that I can negotiate with my sleep disability. I decided to stop.
At the beginning of the year, I made a promise to myself to stop trying to fit into other people's timezone.
Regular monthly events happen, old friends still come to visit, but I stopped trying to rush to the pub before eight or nine, or hang out on weekends before 4pm. It's been lonely, but honestly--being awake in an empty house until sunrise, night-in, night-out, is already pretty lonely. I'll live.
I mean, right now I'm seeing two people. Without getting too horny on main it's nice to be kinky. Anyway.
It's just five years after moving to london, I feel like I arrived yesterday. No sense of place, no sense of grounding, no sense of belonging. I lied when I said the problem was just the sleep pattern. The ADHD makes going to movies a mild form of torture, and the autism makes being in crowds overwhelming.
Still, EMF went better than I'd hoped. The first year I've gone and not had a bit of a meltdown or a panic. I had fun, people knew me, and I felt welcome.
Other nice things happened. I took lovely photos-"Wow, is that me?", helped a friend escape an abusive relationship, bought a nice bag, and generally made an effort to treat myself well.
2018 went better than expected, but I wish people would stop suggesting going to therapy for being sad about ADHD, sleeping weirdly, or being autistic. As someone who has been signed off from six+ jobs I would love it if people stopped telling me "just try harder", I did. Look where it got me.
I have no hope for 2019. The UK is a colonial mess of literal fascists and neo-liberals reminiscing over war-criminals, and I'm almost certainly going to lose the right to live and work in 28 countries. Which will be an issue because tech is going to pack up and leave london, and so will I if I want to keep paying rent.
Burning out every twenty months for the best part of twenty years has left me a dried husk of ideation. As for dreams and aspirations? I'm pretty sure I won't own a house, but maybe if i'm lucky I'll have a cat.
2019, can't wait. Get it over with already
2008 http://figg.livejournal.com/314729.html
2009 http://figg.livejournal.com/343616.html
2010 http://figg.livejournal.com/346046.html
2011 http://figg.livejournal.com/346441.html
2012 http://figg.livejournal.com/347985.html
2013 http://figg.livejournal.com/348330.html
2014 http://figg.livejournal.com/348456.html
2015 http://figg.livejournal.com/348903.html
2016 https://figg.livejournal.com/349076.html
2017 https://figg.livejournal.com/349340.html
It's weird as hell that I can go back a whole ten years and see how much has changed. Or how little.
Last year I wrote:
2017 has been a year where I've been forced to confront my own inadequacies, and as a result, one year on, I feel like nothing has changed.
2018? I can't wait.
I got a job. I ended up speaking to Grace again after two years of complete silence. Somehow or other I'm poly again, and I'm seeing Poonum too. Other than that I didn't really leave london, or my house much. EMF was fun, though.
That's it, really.
I spent the first few months in a panic over employment. I've been told "you have too much ADHD" several times now.
Eventually I got a job, and I got my friend hired as a VP too! They let me sleep when I need and it is amazing to have such humanity shown to me. I mean, I'm still very depressed, but they aren't making things worse-if anything, work is helping. It's quite a change.
I also spent a few months with the dentist-I'm almost taking care of myself. I'm back to normal, just barely functioning, eating at least once a day, and not getting into too much trouble at work.
Outside of surviving: reconnecting with Grace was something I didn't expect to happen, and it gives me some hope that the other bridges I burned aren't as structurally damaged as once thought.
I'm still in my fancy cupboard flat, next to a beautiful park. I'm still smoking too much, but I've cut down the drinking entirely. Fasting on and off these last few years has wrecked my alcohol tolerance, and I find myself being a sad drunk more than ever.
I guess I'm back to waving-not-drowning. My burnout rate is up to 'once every 20 months' from 'once every 18'. I'm getting better, but I've been far more avoidant and isolate than ever.
I still see the hackspace crew of 2015, I got my new job through that clique, but it feels like almost everyone else from 2015 has moved on, left the UK, or just doesn't swim in the same circles as I do anymore. Moving to south london helped in many ways, but i've struggled to build any sort of regular social activities down here.
(It's worth mentioning that folk like Tom, Daniel, and a few others, have made an effort to hang out this year, despite the scheduling issues, and I still really appreciate it)
People ask "want to hang around and start drinking at midday in your timezone", and I reply "oh, that's going to be difficult" and pretend that I can negotiate with my sleep disability. I decided to stop.
At the beginning of the year, I made a promise to myself to stop trying to fit into other people's timezone.
Regular monthly events happen, old friends still come to visit, but I stopped trying to rush to the pub before eight or nine, or hang out on weekends before 4pm. It's been lonely, but honestly--being awake in an empty house until sunrise, night-in, night-out, is already pretty lonely. I'll live.
I mean, right now I'm seeing two people. Without getting too horny on main it's nice to be kinky. Anyway.
It's just five years after moving to london, I feel like I arrived yesterday. No sense of place, no sense of grounding, no sense of belonging. I lied when I said the problem was just the sleep pattern. The ADHD makes going to movies a mild form of torture, and the autism makes being in crowds overwhelming.
Still, EMF went better than I'd hoped. The first year I've gone and not had a bit of a meltdown or a panic. I had fun, people knew me, and I felt welcome.
Other nice things happened. I took lovely photos-"Wow, is that me?", helped a friend escape an abusive relationship, bought a nice bag, and generally made an effort to treat myself well.
2018 went better than expected, but I wish people would stop suggesting going to therapy for being sad about ADHD, sleeping weirdly, or being autistic. As someone who has been signed off from six+ jobs I would love it if people stopped telling me "just try harder", I did. Look where it got me.
I have no hope for 2019. The UK is a colonial mess of literal fascists and neo-liberals reminiscing over war-criminals, and I'm almost certainly going to lose the right to live and work in 28 countries. Which will be an issue because tech is going to pack up and leave london, and so will I if I want to keep paying rent.
Burning out every twenty months for the best part of twenty years has left me a dried husk of ideation. As for dreams and aspirations? I'm pretty sure I won't own a house, but maybe if i'm lucky I'll have a cat.
2019, can't wait. Get it over with already