Little Slips

Last post I wrote about the anxiety that's always there, just waiting for myself to slip back into months-long depression and hopelessness. Well, I'm still waiting for "the big one" but little ones have been cropping up here and there.

I don't even know where the last one came from, just that it happened and it was annoying (after I got over bawling my eyes out). But really, it was survivable. I wonder if that's what my life has in store for me from now on: little bouts of mini-breakdowns every once in a while for no reason whatsoever. I hope not, but if so, then I guess it is what it is...

I just have to try to remind myself that it is happening now, yes. And it sucks ass, yes. But just because I am spontaneously depressed today doesn't mean it is going to be months of a downward spiral until I want to shoot myself in the face. It could just be for tonight, and even if it isn't, I'll deal with it like I have for 20ish years prior. Just to wait it out until tomorrow and try not to get too existential about my suffering until then.

And breathe. As much as I hate admitting it (it sounds like a tree-hugging, new-age, hippie thing), breathing exercises really, really help. Just concentrate on the fact that you are breathing in, then out and all the sounds and physical sensations in between...when you start to think about anything else (good, bad, or not), just go, "nope," and breathe in again. Breathe out again. It won't fix anything necessarily, and it takes a lot of strength and practice to bring yourself back to it, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

Anyway, that's been my week.

Fuck it.

This may sound like I'm giving up, but it is actually a kind of war cry; a beginning to another attempt to actually write things on this blog. This article itself won't be very exciting probably, as I have to start getting ready for work soon. Yes, work!

I finally buckled down and got a job that is still kind of physically demanding (for me, anyway), but is still pretty accommodating. I work at a craft store as a cashier and sometimes a sales floor rep (basically just keeping things tidy while showing old ladys where the yarn is). I've wanted to work there for years, but I was either outright rejected (due to absolutely STUPID interview answers on my part--I still cringe), or I was too afraid to apply (years later). Either way, I finally applied and it took a couple months for a different location to actually get a hold of me (I hate online applications now). It was a simple, "if you can form a coherent sentence, you're hired" kind of interview, but I was still fabulously prepared for it.

I have made a lot of mental progress since the last time I wrote something here, and I have made a lot of progress on my novel, too. Once I get home tonight or between classes tomorrow I will write a lot more on that, as I am pretty excited about how well I've been doing. There is, of course, a lot of anxiety there as well, because my depression still sits in the back of my head and reminds me that it could rear its ugly head at any point if I drop my guard. It really is something I have to keep watch on, too, as I found out during my recent fall break.

At this point I'm mainly just rambling an update to (again) let you know I'm still alive, so I won't subject you to too much more until later. I just randomly saw the bookmark for blogger and thought I should just sneak a peek and see if it was something I wanted to do again, and it was! So yeah. Thanks for putting up with me thus far, and I'll write more soon.

Long time, no write.

Yeah, I know I haven't actually contributed anything to the blogosphere in a while. It happens. Especially when you are seriously down and out and then sick, and then starting school, and all that. Ah well.

But I am alive! At least...last time I checked, anyway.

I don't know exactly what's going to happen here, to be honest. I might shut this down, I might get right back up on the horse. Most likely, however, it will be a sporadic chronicling of the times when I am not depressed and/or sick and/or busy as hell (that last one almost never happens for real, so no worries there). Any way it happens in the future, I am writing now. And RIGHT NOW is the most important time, right?

That's such an interesting concept. Right this second is the rest of your life. <--and that, my friends, sounds cliche as fuck. But it's true, isn't it? I could, right this second: go rob a bank, take a nap, start trying to find money to start a homeless shelter, shoot myself in the face (actually, I don't think that would be a "right this second" kind of thing, as I have no ready access to a gun), work on my novel, or just finish this blog post and then start re-watching Archer from the beginning like I was planning on doing. Every instant has a wealth of possibilities that, when you're depressed, are almost impossible to see.

Depression is stupid.

Anyway, the more I think, "screw the audience, I'm just gonna write!" the more I want to continue this blog. Fuck it, why not? The worst that could happen is no one ever reads it and I just keep typing to myself. Maybe I'll get better at writing. Maybe I'll figure out some crazy awesome universal truth that no one has ever thought of before and then have some crazy epiphany and then solve world hunger or something. Most likely the first one, if I were a betting woman. The point is, I'm still alive and I get to decide what that means. Right now. And now. Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now.























And now.