Really irritable
It’s a rainy, cold, crappy day. I waited in a light rain for the bus to get my Starbucks fix. Today is Veteran’s Day in the US and to my surprise, things were running on normal weekday schedule. If there are any veterans reading this blog, thank you for your service!! Bus was a little late but not by much. It sucked because I had to stand the whole time as the bench was soaked. I can only imagine the pain I am going to be feeling tonight. It’s throbbing now because on the way home, I had to stand as there were no seats. Place was packed.
I didn’t get any writing done at Starbucks. That’s when I started getting irritated. There was a guy that kept on talking, low at first then louder as he got animated in conversation. Then he would stop talking, write something down on his pad, then start the damn conversation again. I was so damn annoyed. Even with my damn headphones on I could hear him. I really just wanted to go home. My first pen that I used really stopped working. No ink even though the supply was full. I decided to chuck it. I had another pen, in a different ink color, so used that. I was so aggravated I didn’t care that I started in one ink color and changed to a different one. I am very particular when I write with a specific pen. When I was in school, if I started writing with a pen and couldn’t find it because it rolled off some where, I couldn’t continue with my schoolwork until I found that particular pen, didn’t matter that I had another pen or pencil I could use. I had to use *that* pen. And it wasn’t a special pen like my pens are now. It was just your run of the mill Papermate.
Talked with my therapist today. As agreed upon, we were “therapeutic” today. She wanted to know more about the definitions of the needs I gave her last week and which needs I felt were important right now. For the first time in weeks, I felt like we had our normal conversation back. We talked about my accomplishment for the year was the New York Times article. We also talked about my first love, Wil Wheaton, and how he turned down the Huffington Post because they were not going to pay him for using his story. His bottom line is that writers/bloggers should be paid for their work. I didn’t read his blog post about it nor a story that Mike Okuda sent out the other day but I never thought about getting paid when the NYT took my article. They are giving me a little something, so technically, this is my first paid gig. It is a big deal but at times, I downplay it because I feel so crappy. So my therapist was trying to get me to understand that I am exceptional and something else. She used a word but I don’t remember what it was. She also wants me to feel validated in that so many people appreciated the article. I got a lot of discussion on Twitter and traffic on my blog that day. It has been two months and I still feel some pride every now and then. I keep checking the article on my phone every now and then to know that it wasn’t a dream. I bet Wil never wrote for the New York Times. My therapist, who likes to collect my things, wants a copy of the article. I asked her if she had it in my voluminous file and she said she doesn’t think she does. I can’t believe that in January we will be working together for 15 years. I know we had a few shaky weeks and I must have thought of ending things with her a million times, but she has been my biggest supporter.
We also talked about someone who left me a comment on my blog I wrote when I was feeling like scum. It was the first contact I have had from her in months so I was shocked that she read my blog. I appreciated what she wrote but I don’t think she gets the severity of my suicidality or is just blind to it. She never really acknowledges my suicidal thoughts and that sometimes gets under my skin. I find it invalidating.
I still haven’t asked her about narcissistic injury. We still were talking about my father’s presence gives me such trouble. I have to deal with him tomorrow and a little bit on Friday. That is three times this week that I have to deal with him. Today is my aunt’s birthday. I have been meaning to call her but haven’t struck up the nerve. Every time I call, it’s always the same conversation, why don’t you visit me more often. I wish I could but I don’t have a car. She turns 91 today. I mailed her a card on Monday. She probably will get it tomorrow as today is a holiday.
I really need to shower today but it’s cold in the house. I have been good with the every other day thing so today I need to as I really don’t want to tomorrow. I never know if it will exhaust me or not. I am already exhausted so I know that if I take a shower, it will further exhaust my resources. I just don’t have energy as I am sleep deprived. That is probably why I am so cold or hot all the time. I try not to dress to warmly because I do get hot quickly but lately, like my mood, I have been running cold. My psych wants my thyroid checked. I don’t know why she didn’t order it. I don’t see my PCP until next month. If it’s a virus that is causing this hot and cold business, I hope it’s gone by then. I can do without the sniffling, too.
the link above is the article from Mike Okuda
midnightdemons7 