It reallt sucks to be able to see the disaster coming and not be able to do a thing to stop it. It especially sucks when it’s hard to explain why you can’t do anything about it.
And it’s the square root of the cube of the suck when it involves your health.
I’m pretty close to being out of my diabetes meds. Oops. I really should have made a doctor’s appointment to get them refilled when I first realized this problem was looming on the horizon.
And I first realized it last Sunday. It’s Friday today.
And every day this week, I told myself I was going to call to make the appointment. And each time, I could not make myself do it.
Phone calls are tricky for me and my social anxiety. They require me to enter the real time social arena instead of hiding behind video games and the internet all the time. I have to talk to someone I don’t know and what’s worse, I have to ask for something.
The fact that it’s a perfectly normal thing to ask for and there is no chance my doctor’s receptionist will get mad at me and/or refuse me or reject me is irrelevent.
These anxieties were installed way before I developed my current rather muscular powers of reason. The fear happens before I even have a chance to think about it. And it operates on the deep animal level.
It’s not a reasoned response to environmental stimuli.
It’s jungle terror.
So as a result of these anxieties of mine, I am going to run out of diabetes meds for an indeterminate period of time and that’s bad.
Actually, I just checked, and it turns out that it’s only yhe Glyburide that I am about to run out of. Which is weird. Because they should all be in sync.
Anyhow, the point stands. My depression and/or anxiety is making my diabetes worse and will likely end up making me extra miserable as I fall victim to the Demon Hunger for at least a few days.
And trust me, that’s enough to drive anyone crazy.
And it’s just not fair, ya know? My problems ganging up on me like this. I try so hard to keep it together but no matter what I do, things fall apart anyhow.
Maybe I should stop trying so hard and just let everything fall apart so I can give that part of me a rest and recovery period. Then pull myself together again without all the strain on my nerves and mental resources.
Or maybe that’s just what my depression wants me to think. After all, the last time I fell apart like that, it was when I feel deep into the Skyrim hole, and I still haven’t fully recovered from that.
It’s so hard to keep myself together though. As patient readers know, it takes a constant input of energy for me to retain my shape. Part of me always longs to abandon all structure and revert to liquid form and go hide from the world for a while.
Morseso than usual, I mean.
I am finding my experiments with actually valuing myself very interesting.
Because the thing is, if I am valuable, then this life of mine is a tragedy and an injustice. And in general, I am the sort of person who does his best to prevent tragedies and right wrongs and make things better for people.
And I’m people.
But I dunno. Valuing myself seems like so much work. I mean, if I am truly as gifted as I think I am, then I really should be doing all kinds of things to make sure I get the most out of my considerable abilities.
Things like job hunting, for instance. Scary thought.
Scary because, like, what if I actually got one? Then I would have to leave this fetid womb of mine for many hours at a time. I would lose my precious ability to nap whenever the hell I wanted and I would have to take the electronic teat that feeds me video games and the internet out of my mouth and learn to actually deal with reality.
In short, I would have to actually grow up.
“It’s about time!” says one part of me.
“Oh god no!” says another.
What can I say. i’m a complicated man and noone understands me.
I really do want to exit this cage I have built for myself. It would be wonderful to be free of the burden of having to figure out what to do with myself all the time. Having purposeful labour would also do me a lot of good, as would having someplace I can show off just how fucking amazing I am and get kudos.
I loves me some kudos.
I keep thinking that I need to start something on my own, or dedicate myself to Paragon, or some other kind of big deal project like that which can generate its own momentum to a certain extent.
But I don’t feel like I have it in me right now. As we have discussed recently, I could be wrong about that. Depression is a total non-predictor when it comes to that kind of thing. It could be that if I threw myself into something big, it would inspire me and I would find I had plenty of energy to get shit done.
But right now,. that seems unlikely. Maybe after it cools off in the fall, I will be able to find the energy for that all important initial spark, but I don’t have it right now.
The idea of a job appeals to me, though. Imagine actually knowing what I will be doing with myself day after day! Imagine having a place where they value what I do enough to give me money for it! Imagine a wonderland where I work with other people who are smart and funny and cool!
Could such a thing truly exist?
Could it even exist for someone…. like me?
Dare I even…. dream of it?
I do so dare.
And if I can dream it, I can do it.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.