My job has taken a turn for the unstressful - or I've had a dramatic shift in perspective. I think it's the former. All last week I left early every day, mainly because I was sick, and took a day off. This week, it's just not that busy. I mean, I have work, but it's not piling up in front of me. I'm not complaining about being less busy - I'm rather enjoying it actually. And I wouldn't even mind if it lasted all through the summer, right through my leave. The only problem is that when things slow down, I lose all motivation. I become bored instantly. If I'm not drowning under work and feeling the pressure of multiple deadlines, I am a lot less efficient. It's just the way I am. In fact, I am sometimes known to really slack off when things slow down just to create some artificial time pressure.
So my last post I thought I was slipping into depression. And then the past couple of days I thought I wasn't. I actually felt really pretty good - almost too good actually - so good that something maybe wasn't right about it. I was going to post about it. But my mood changes so quickly that I can't keep up with posting about it. It's like I blink and it's not the same. Anyway, I didn't sink as low as I expected to. The only thing I can attribute this too is an all day (literally all day) instant message conversation with another blogger which a) kept me occupied, b) laid all my problems/issues out in front of me almost painfully clearly, c) made me think it isn't as hopeless as I sometimes think it is, d) made me realize that I have made more progress on some things than I think I have and less on others, e) made clear that I am suffering more than I should be, definitely, and causing myself a lot of pain, and f) made me think maybe it's time to, you know, try something different. It's now people. I need to do something now. And I felt really good for a couple of days. Really good. But it didn't last.
Today, I just feel blah again. Maybe not hopeless about my life. Not quite.
Anyway, I am unstressed, kind of blah, unmotivated, slightly bored. Sinking maybe again.
I had a really weird experience today. I went to the dentist and she had to numb me to do some stuff. Well, typically I refuse to go that route at the dentist and I tolerate the pain. I have let my teeth be drilled into before without being numb. I kind of think I have like an out of body experience when I've done this. It's like I'm not really present or something, I mean, it's weird, but you sort of have to maybe enter another state of being to tolerate the pain. Anyway, I went the other route this time. It made me sick. I was dizzy, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I'm not allergic to it. It was weird. When I got up, I almost passed out. I was walking to my car and I had to sit down, that's how close to passing out I was. I was driving home and I could barely stay awake. I got home, sat down and fell asleep almost instantly. Weird.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Modus operandi
I sometimes wonder why it's so hard to change the way you operate when you know so well what underlies it and what is wrong with it. But I guess changing the way you are is just difficult no matter how well you understand it. It isn't like I should be surprised about the way that I feel at the moment - it is so not surprising and so predictable that I should really feel stupid for kind of being surprised.
I don't even know where to begin, so this may be unorganized. Let's begin with this - I am unhappy. (And since the last time I said that, did I achieve "happiness?" Did I lose it? Did I mistake happiness for unhappiness? Did I have it, and I didn't know it? Is happiness just plain not what I thought it was?). I don't like the way I feel at the moment - and what I really want is some relief, except I don't know how to get it - I mean I know how to get it. I have to wait for it. But it isn't coming quick enough.
Also note that I am a goal oriented person. I like to have goals, I like to be always in the process of trying to accomplish something or get something or achieve something. I like to have a plan and be on a path and be executing on it. The destination is happiness - that undefined thing that I can't describe and also can't locate. And although a friend will tell me that happiness is not a destination. I will insist that, nevertheless, I will be happy when I get there. When I get there.
I have no goals today. I have nothing tangible to get and happiness is just too, well, illusory. I always defined happiness in terms of the tangible things by which someone may measure it (someone, not me necessarily, just someone) - career success, financial stability, relationship, family, house, travel, etc. In my mind I have always associated happiness with achieving certain things. You get X and you get to be happy.
And here is the problem. In my previous life (which means before I came into AA), I was able to operate under the illusion that something would fix it. It turns out, I liked that illusion. I liked it a lot. It kept me going. It was my motivation, it drove me, it pushed me to try ever harder to get everything I ever wanted. It is the reason I am so successful in my career and financially (though admittedly I do not have so-called success in other areas). Anxiety, coupled with a quest for the happiness that would always elude me is the reason I am right where I am, sitting right here writing this.
I operated under the illusion that whatever it was at the moment that I was trying to get was going to be the thing that would make it all okay and would make me happy. I'll be happy when, and I'll be happy if. It might have been going to law school, getting a job, getting a different job, making more money, a new car, new furniture, a new boyfriend, a new location, X amount of money in my bank account, paying off a student loan. In case you were wondering, none of these things worked.
I have known, well, since the very first AA meeting that I ever went to what had gone so horribly wrong in my quest. And even though I know that the key to my happiness and unhappiness lies on the inside - knowing that almost makes it harder. Having a goal doesn't even help me because I know that whatever it is that I am trying to get isn't going to make a damn bit of difference. It's just not going to make any difference, so why bother at all.
And I can't figure out just what exactly I need to change on the inside. Or maybe I am just tired of trying.
What is the point of all of this? I am unhappy. I am slipping into the blah again and I don't feel like stopping myself. How long has it been? I can't remember. It isn't a steep decline this time and it isn't coming out of no where. It is slow and it makes sense and I am just riding the elevator down. Where is it coming from and why is it so predictable? I am coming off of a really busy time at work. I am coming down off the stress of it. My job is such that it allows me to check out. I can get so busy at work that I don't even really have a sense of what is going on with me. I don't feel anything - it numbs me out.
And then suddenly, I hit a lull, I get a breather, I get a moment to stop and check-in with myself. The feelings of uneasiness and anxiety rush over me, the unhappiness, the sadness, the things I didn't feel because I was too busy to notice them. I forget for a moment that I wasn't happy. I trick myself I guess. And this is where we find ourselves. It happens every time I get busy at work and then things slow down. It's cyclical. Work is cyclical and my mood and my awareness of my unhappiness cycle with it. And I sit here wondering what will fix it, knowing that it isn't external, or material or tangible even.
I don't even know where to begin, so this may be unorganized. Let's begin with this - I am unhappy. (And since the last time I said that, did I achieve "happiness?" Did I lose it? Did I mistake happiness for unhappiness? Did I have it, and I didn't know it? Is happiness just plain not what I thought it was?). I don't like the way I feel at the moment - and what I really want is some relief, except I don't know how to get it - I mean I know how to get it. I have to wait for it. But it isn't coming quick enough.
Also note that I am a goal oriented person. I like to have goals, I like to be always in the process of trying to accomplish something or get something or achieve something. I like to have a plan and be on a path and be executing on it. The destination is happiness - that undefined thing that I can't describe and also can't locate. And although a friend will tell me that happiness is not a destination. I will insist that, nevertheless, I will be happy when I get there. When I get there.
I have no goals today. I have nothing tangible to get and happiness is just too, well, illusory. I always defined happiness in terms of the tangible things by which someone may measure it (someone, not me necessarily, just someone) - career success, financial stability, relationship, family, house, travel, etc. In my mind I have always associated happiness with achieving certain things. You get X and you get to be happy.
And here is the problem. In my previous life (which means before I came into AA), I was able to operate under the illusion that something would fix it. It turns out, I liked that illusion. I liked it a lot. It kept me going. It was my motivation, it drove me, it pushed me to try ever harder to get everything I ever wanted. It is the reason I am so successful in my career and financially (though admittedly I do not have so-called success in other areas). Anxiety, coupled with a quest for the happiness that would always elude me is the reason I am right where I am, sitting right here writing this.
I operated under the illusion that whatever it was at the moment that I was trying to get was going to be the thing that would make it all okay and would make me happy. I'll be happy when, and I'll be happy if. It might have been going to law school, getting a job, getting a different job, making more money, a new car, new furniture, a new boyfriend, a new location, X amount of money in my bank account, paying off a student loan. In case you were wondering, none of these things worked.
I have known, well, since the very first AA meeting that I ever went to what had gone so horribly wrong in my quest. And even though I know that the key to my happiness and unhappiness lies on the inside - knowing that almost makes it harder. Having a goal doesn't even help me because I know that whatever it is that I am trying to get isn't going to make a damn bit of difference. It's just not going to make any difference, so why bother at all.
And I can't figure out just what exactly I need to change on the inside. Or maybe I am just tired of trying.
What is the point of all of this? I am unhappy. I am slipping into the blah again and I don't feel like stopping myself. How long has it been? I can't remember. It isn't a steep decline this time and it isn't coming out of no where. It is slow and it makes sense and I am just riding the elevator down. Where is it coming from and why is it so predictable? I am coming off of a really busy time at work. I am coming down off the stress of it. My job is such that it allows me to check out. I can get so busy at work that I don't even really have a sense of what is going on with me. I don't feel anything - it numbs me out.
And then suddenly, I hit a lull, I get a breather, I get a moment to stop and check-in with myself. The feelings of uneasiness and anxiety rush over me, the unhappiness, the sadness, the things I didn't feel because I was too busy to notice them. I forget for a moment that I wasn't happy. I trick myself I guess. And this is where we find ourselves. It happens every time I get busy at work and then things slow down. It's cyclical. Work is cyclical and my mood and my awareness of my unhappiness cycle with it. And I sit here wondering what will fix it, knowing that it isn't external, or material or tangible even.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Looking up
I've had two bad weeks - but things are finally looking better. This past week I was extremely sick. The week before I was in Michigan and extremely stressed out and busy at work.
This past week I went to work sick three days in a row with a fever, etc., and then finally, on Thursday decided to stay home. I went to the doctor and she thought I had a bacterial infection that could cause pneumonia, so she gave me an anti-biotic which I started last night. And poof - I actually feel better today. I mean, not all the way better - but noticeably.
I went to work today when I probably should have stayed home - I could have had a 5 days weekend!! But there was a conversation that I needed to have. I left early, at 3. I left early almost every day this week that I went in.
I even felt better enough to clean up the disaster that was my kitchen - it was really disgusting after being sick since Sunday and not rinsing a single dish or putting anything in the dishwasher. I had to restrain myself from an all out assault type cleaning of my condo. I feel good, but not that good.
Anyway, I went to a meeting tonight - much needed. I hadn't been to a meeting for a week because of being out of town and then sick. I don't normally do that (go that long without going to a meeting) and I have to say, I'm actually surprised that I didn't feel more screwed up in the head. Seriously, normally after a week, I could have gone crazy in my head.
Maybe my freaking out over the "leave situation" at work is some evidence of the fact that I hadn't gone to a meeting. Though again I have to say, I handled that much better than I would have ever in years past. I mean really, I did maybe go off a bit in that post, but I needed to vent and I did manage to maintain some perspective about it.
I did have a good talk with the head of my group - about the leave, about the future, about all kinds of things. And although the details aren't pinned down and may not be for a while and maybe I will go August 1st or maybe I will go August 15th - in any case, it sounds like it is going to work and every one is okay and supportive.
Things are really good at work actually. In fact, things have slowed down a bit, which is fine by me cause up until this week I've been pretty much super super busy since February and drowning. And instead of getting worried like I normally do when things slow down - worrying about hours, etc., I am stress free this time. Because remember, this is the new me this billable year. I just don't give a shit how many hours I bill. And let me tell you, it feels great not to be stressed about it.
This past week I went to work sick three days in a row with a fever, etc., and then finally, on Thursday decided to stay home. I went to the doctor and she thought I had a bacterial infection that could cause pneumonia, so she gave me an anti-biotic which I started last night. And poof - I actually feel better today. I mean, not all the way better - but noticeably.
I went to work today when I probably should have stayed home - I could have had a 5 days weekend!! But there was a conversation that I needed to have. I left early, at 3. I left early almost every day this week that I went in.
I even felt better enough to clean up the disaster that was my kitchen - it was really disgusting after being sick since Sunday and not rinsing a single dish or putting anything in the dishwasher. I had to restrain myself from an all out assault type cleaning of my condo. I feel good, but not that good.
Anyway, I went to a meeting tonight - much needed. I hadn't been to a meeting for a week because of being out of town and then sick. I don't normally do that (go that long without going to a meeting) and I have to say, I'm actually surprised that I didn't feel more screwed up in the head. Seriously, normally after a week, I could have gone crazy in my head.
Maybe my freaking out over the "leave situation" at work is some evidence of the fact that I hadn't gone to a meeting. Though again I have to say, I handled that much better than I would have ever in years past. I mean really, I did maybe go off a bit in that post, but I needed to vent and I did manage to maintain some perspective about it.
I did have a good talk with the head of my group - about the leave, about the future, about all kinds of things. And although the details aren't pinned down and may not be for a while and maybe I will go August 1st or maybe I will go August 15th - in any case, it sounds like it is going to work and every one is okay and supportive.
Things are really good at work actually. In fact, things have slowed down a bit, which is fine by me cause up until this week I've been pretty much super super busy since February and drowning. And instead of getting worried like I normally do when things slow down - worrying about hours, etc., I am stress free this time. Because remember, this is the new me this billable year. I just don't give a shit how many hours I bill. And let me tell you, it feels great not to be stressed about it.
Posting a retraction
Everything is all good on the work/leave front. Seriously, everything is all good.
See, I tend to freak out before freaking out is warranted and overreact before it is necessary. All it took is another conversation and a little more explanation. I have this problem where my head gets away from me. That's why I have a little piece of paper taped to the shelf above my monitor at work that says, "IT WILL NOT HAPPEN THAT WAY." Cause I need to be constantly reminded of that fact.
Everything is all good. I really do work with very nice, caring people.
More later.
See, I tend to freak out before freaking out is warranted and overreact before it is necessary. All it took is another conversation and a little more explanation. I have this problem where my head gets away from me. That's why I have a little piece of paper taped to the shelf above my monitor at work that says, "IT WILL NOT HAPPEN THAT WAY." Cause I need to be constantly reminded of that fact.
Everything is all good. I really do work with very nice, caring people.
More later.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Mad at myself
Now that I am over having a minor tantrum about it - the only thing I can really say about my week is that I am really mad at myself. That's the problem with having done inventories and such - you know what your part in things is automatically, without even having to think about it. And wouldn't it be great if I could just blame it on everyone else. It's everyone else's fault that I had a bad week, that my week wasn't what I wanted it to be.
But it wasn't. It was my own fault - for having expectations. For wanting it to be a certain way and to feel a certain way and not feel a certain way. And I completely know that expectations are dangerous. It's such a commonly talked about thing in AA meetings. Expectations breed resentments or are resentments waiting to happen. You are just asking to be disappointed. I have spent enough time on resentments and expectations to recognize immediately what happened here.
I let things get to me this week, more than I should have. I just had this inability to go with the flow of what was happening with my job this week as I was trying to work from outside the office - which was more difficult than I wanted it to be - and the impact work was having on what I wanted to do here. I've never been a go with the flow kind of person. I don't like it when the plan gets changed, I am not naturally flexible or spontaneous. It has taken practice to ever be able to roll with anything. I'm normally fairly good at it now, but it requires certain things to be able to do it. Like perspective for one, which I suffered a fairly significant loss of around Tuesday. And after all, everything does come down to perspective.
So what went wrong exactly? I agreed to work this week. I wasn't on vacation - I didn't want to be on vacation (correction, I felt too guilty to take vacation this week), I was just working from outside the office. I had no reason to believe that this week would be slower for me when the past 4 months have been extremely busy. I wanted it to be, I thought it would be, but I had no real basis for believing that. Why would the partner leave me alone this week when I was working. I said I was going to work this week, I just didn't want to work like this. So, I should have said that. Besides that, I went almost a week without a meeting because of work.
I knew this week would be hard given that yesterday was the anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer, tomorrow is my 31st birthday, and today is the dreaded day in between, which used to be known as the dreaded night before my birthday. I knew it would have some effect on me, I just didn't know what the effect would be. I had no idea whether I could avoid the feelings or not or what the emotion would even be. All fear? Sadness? And I didn't know that it would come out sideways - that the fear and the pain around these days would come out in the form of intense anger and extreme resentment.
I should have known that because anger has always been my default emotion. When I was crying about the cat earlier, I'm not sure it was about the cat.
I'm mad at myself because despite what was going on at work - despite the stress of it - it didn't have to ruin my entire week. I know better - I know how to keep this type of thing from happening. Sometimes I'm even really good at keeping this kind of thing from happening. This week was really important to me and I allowed it to b e ruined. And now I get to go home upset with myself for allowing that to happen and sad that my time with my nephew, which is valuable to me, was kind of wrecked by my being angry all week about work. Or angry about something anyway, work or otherwise. Or scared maybe. I really think the problem is fear that I can't figure out how to deal with.
How many more weeks will I have? I can't get this one back. How many more chances will I have to come to Michigan for a week to stay, instead of just the weekend, and to play with my nephew and to be woken up way earlier than I want to be by the sound of my nephew's voice exclaiming "innie in der" when he pushes open my bedroom door? You let moments be ruined and they are moments you can't get back.
All this time I have been waiting to see what my nephew would call me. He'd never tried to say my name, at least I've never heard him. I have a hard name for little kids to say because it starts with an L. Most little kids say the first letter of my name as a Y because the L is just hard for them to say. And maybe because it's more than one syllable - that makes it even harder. Anyway, he called me "innie" the other morning when he came looking for me. "Innie in der!?" He's so cute. He can say "loader" pretty well though - he can get the L sound out so maybe it won't take him long to get my name.
Anyway, I stayed home and watched him tonight while my brother and sister-in-law went out. We played in the bath and sat in the front window for a long time eating bananas and talking about the moon. We played silly games like high five/low five and other goofy things he made up. He learned two new words I think - idea and hidden. Not that he knows what idea means - in fact, I think he might associate it with sticking the little bath basketball hoop on the window. He's getting good at words though. I taught him relax a few days ago when were were playing a game which included stuffing everything in sight down in the cracks between the couch cushions. I taught him the word not the concept - which I obviously barely even understand. We talked about coons and bunnas, we read about 8 books. It was the best time I had all week.
That was what I wanted to do this week - be in the moment, love every second of it, be happy, relax, have perspective, get out from under the fear that has been crushing me. It was a complete and total failure and I'm really mad at myself for it. And the fear, it is still suffocating me.
But it wasn't. It was my own fault - for having expectations. For wanting it to be a certain way and to feel a certain way and not feel a certain way. And I completely know that expectations are dangerous. It's such a commonly talked about thing in AA meetings. Expectations breed resentments or are resentments waiting to happen. You are just asking to be disappointed. I have spent enough time on resentments and expectations to recognize immediately what happened here.
I let things get to me this week, more than I should have. I just had this inability to go with the flow of what was happening with my job this week as I was trying to work from outside the office - which was more difficult than I wanted it to be - and the impact work was having on what I wanted to do here. I've never been a go with the flow kind of person. I don't like it when the plan gets changed, I am not naturally flexible or spontaneous. It has taken practice to ever be able to roll with anything. I'm normally fairly good at it now, but it requires certain things to be able to do it. Like perspective for one, which I suffered a fairly significant loss of around Tuesday. And after all, everything does come down to perspective.
So what went wrong exactly? I agreed to work this week. I wasn't on vacation - I didn't want to be on vacation (correction, I felt too guilty to take vacation this week), I was just working from outside the office. I had no reason to believe that this week would be slower for me when the past 4 months have been extremely busy. I wanted it to be, I thought it would be, but I had no real basis for believing that. Why would the partner leave me alone this week when I was working. I said I was going to work this week, I just didn't want to work like this. So, I should have said that. Besides that, I went almost a week without a meeting because of work.
I knew this week would be hard given that yesterday was the anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer, tomorrow is my 31st birthday, and today is the dreaded day in between, which used to be known as the dreaded night before my birthday. I knew it would have some effect on me, I just didn't know what the effect would be. I had no idea whether I could avoid the feelings or not or what the emotion would even be. All fear? Sadness? And I didn't know that it would come out sideways - that the fear and the pain around these days would come out in the form of intense anger and extreme resentment.
I should have known that because anger has always been my default emotion. When I was crying about the cat earlier, I'm not sure it was about the cat.
I'm mad at myself because despite what was going on at work - despite the stress of it - it didn't have to ruin my entire week. I know better - I know how to keep this type of thing from happening. Sometimes I'm even really good at keeping this kind of thing from happening. This week was really important to me and I allowed it to b e ruined. And now I get to go home upset with myself for allowing that to happen and sad that my time with my nephew, which is valuable to me, was kind of wrecked by my being angry all week about work. Or angry about something anyway, work or otherwise. Or scared maybe. I really think the problem is fear that I can't figure out how to deal with.
How many more weeks will I have? I can't get this one back. How many more chances will I have to come to Michigan for a week to stay, instead of just the weekend, and to play with my nephew and to be woken up way earlier than I want to be by the sound of my nephew's voice exclaiming "innie in der" when he pushes open my bedroom door? You let moments be ruined and they are moments you can't get back.
All this time I have been waiting to see what my nephew would call me. He'd never tried to say my name, at least I've never heard him. I have a hard name for little kids to say because it starts with an L. Most little kids say the first letter of my name as a Y because the L is just hard for them to say. And maybe because it's more than one syllable - that makes it even harder. Anyway, he called me "innie" the other morning when he came looking for me. "Innie in der!?" He's so cute. He can say "loader" pretty well though - he can get the L sound out so maybe it won't take him long to get my name.
Anyway, I stayed home and watched him tonight while my brother and sister-in-law went out. We played in the bath and sat in the front window for a long time eating bananas and talking about the moon. We played silly games like high five/low five and other goofy things he made up. He learned two new words I think - idea and hidden. Not that he knows what idea means - in fact, I think he might associate it with sticking the little bath basketball hoop on the window. He's getting good at words though. I taught him relax a few days ago when were were playing a game which included stuffing everything in sight down in the cracks between the couch cushions. I taught him the word not the concept - which I obviously barely even understand. We talked about coons and bunnas, we read about 8 books. It was the best time I had all week.
That was what I wanted to do this week - be in the moment, love every second of it, be happy, relax, have perspective, get out from under the fear that has been crushing me. It was a complete and total failure and I'm really mad at myself for it. And the fear, it is still suffocating me.
The disaster that was my week
This week, that was supposed to be relaxing and nice, low stress, low key, less busy, fun. It was none of the above. It sucked. A lot. It sucked so much that I don't even want to tell you about it. It's just not even worth talking about it. To you it will just sound like more of the usual complaning about my job and well, what's the point in that?
And now I am sitting here crying about what to do with my cat when I take a leave. I can't leave him for 6 weeks. I can't even leave him and have him checked on for 6 weeks. I know he is just a cat but I can't leave him for that long. He doesn't even like to be left for 3 days. And it isn't going to do me any good to take a leave and then sit in Chicago for 6 weeks. I am afraid to bring him to my brother's cause I think he will get out and lost. I don't know what to do. I feel like I can't take time off because of the cat. I'm seriously sitting here crying about it. My fucking cat is going to prevent me from taking a leave. Or I am going to have to sit in Chicago the whole time because of it. I just don't know what to do. And I am crying about it because I'm tired. I'm tired and I'm pissed and I need some damn time off. I just need someone to take my cat. Someone with no pets. If I don't get some time off, I'm going to crack. Seriously. I don't know what to do.
Did I mention that my week sucked? It sucked ass. I know that's not a nice thing to say, but seriously, it did. And now it's my birthday, tomorrow, and I just had one of the worst weeks that I've had in a while. I'm just going to sit here and cry about it.
And now I am sitting here crying about what to do with my cat when I take a leave. I can't leave him for 6 weeks. I can't even leave him and have him checked on for 6 weeks. I know he is just a cat but I can't leave him for that long. He doesn't even like to be left for 3 days. And it isn't going to do me any good to take a leave and then sit in Chicago for 6 weeks. I am afraid to bring him to my brother's cause I think he will get out and lost. I don't know what to do. I feel like I can't take time off because of the cat. I'm seriously sitting here crying about it. My fucking cat is going to prevent me from taking a leave. Or I am going to have to sit in Chicago the whole time because of it. I just don't know what to do. And I am crying about it because I'm tired. I'm tired and I'm pissed and I need some damn time off. I just need someone to take my cat. Someone with no pets. If I don't get some time off, I'm going to crack. Seriously. I don't know what to do.
Did I mention that my week sucked? It sucked ass. I know that's not a nice thing to say, but seriously, it did. And now it's my birthday, tomorrow, and I just had one of the worst weeks that I've had in a while. I'm just going to sit here and cry about it.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
This is Tuesday
Or should I say, "ugh, is it only Tuesday?" My days kind of mush together when I work from outside the office. I actually worked a lot yesterday. I kind of had this plan that I would get a lot done last week (which I did, I always do, don't I?), I would shift a few things around, delegate as much as possible (my new favorite thing) and be less busy this week. Well, it's not working out that way. I leave the office and something comes undone. There is always an emergency. Every damn time I try to work from outside the office. And it's fine - it's just that I suspect the partner thinks it would be slightly easier to deal with if I were there - but he would never say so and the only really annoying thing is that I can't print when I'm not in the office. So I have to read everything on my screen - and you know, everyone wants a teeny tiny lap top for traveling, so the screen is pretty small, I think. So here I am having to switch back and forth between documents on the screen.
Anyway, I have no complaints really. I don't know what ever made me think I could work from outside the office this week and be less busy enough that I could slip away from my computer for a few hours here and there. On the one hand it's lower stress to be not in the office and at the same time it is more stressful, just in different ways. I've been pretty much really busy for months now haven't I? Yes, it does seem that way.
I've been meaning to blog since the last one, but haven't had much chance. If my nephew is here, there is no hope of doing anything but playing with him, which is fine, but that leaves no time for blogging! I do feel better now than I did when I first got here. When I first got here I was feeling like maybe my brother and sister-in-law didn't really want me here. They didn't do anything to make me feel that way - that was all in my head. I've sort of gotten over that. I told my brother that I may go back Thursday because of work even though I am supposed to stay here until Sun (my birthday is Sat.), and he was like, can't you just get it done here? So, maybe they don't mind. I mean, if anything, I am a distraction for E.
So I went this morning to go get some coffee and a bagel. I was up and dressed and ready to go (sit at the dinning room table and work all day) by 8:07. That's 7:07 Chicago time. I wonder if I am going to be on this weird schedule when I get back there of going to bed at 9 and getting up at 5:45 since that is about when my nephew gets up (6:45 Eastern). I didn't really want to start working that early - no one in Chicago is online yet. Who would I talk to? I like the idea of moving out of Chicago and working remotely all the time - but at the same time I don't like the idea. Can I imagine sitting here all day alone? Not sure.
I like the idea of coffee but it makes my stomach hurt unless I drink a decaf latte. Yeah, I am one of those people. Medium, decaf, skim latte with sugar-free vanilla. I hate Starbucks by the way.
I have devised a way to sleep through the noise my nephew makes in the morning - well, sort of. I take the heaviest pillow on the bed and put it over my head (laying on my stomach so only one ear is exposed). I pull the corner down tight, pull the blankets up, and then leave a little crack for fresh air. It really does muffle any noise - he talks constantly pretty much. This morning, there I was, thinking about going back to sleep and wondering what time it was when all of a sudden I feel the blankets move. I thought - what the hell - is the dog in here again (the door doesn't have a lock and the dog can open it - I've been barricading it with my bag at night)? I didn't even hear the door open. I peek out from under the pillow to see my nephew peering into the bed, bright eyed and smiling with his wooden dog on a string that I bought him last year.
"Tunna," he says. "Yes, I am kind of in a tunnel," I tell him. "Tunna. En too. In der. Dog. In der. Tunna. En too. En too. In der. Tunna, tunna." What I think he is trying to say is - can the dog go in the tunnel too? I put the dog in the tunnel and I invited him into the tunnel too - thinking what a clever way to get to stay in bed longer, but he wasn't interested. He just wanted me to go downstairs. So he gathered whatever he thought was required to get me out of bed - which included my watch, my cell phone and my bottle of water and said, "go, en too." Which I believe means come with me.
More later...
Anyway, I have no complaints really. I don't know what ever made me think I could work from outside the office this week and be less busy enough that I could slip away from my computer for a few hours here and there. On the one hand it's lower stress to be not in the office and at the same time it is more stressful, just in different ways. I've been pretty much really busy for months now haven't I? Yes, it does seem that way.
I've been meaning to blog since the last one, but haven't had much chance. If my nephew is here, there is no hope of doing anything but playing with him, which is fine, but that leaves no time for blogging! I do feel better now than I did when I first got here. When I first got here I was feeling like maybe my brother and sister-in-law didn't really want me here. They didn't do anything to make me feel that way - that was all in my head. I've sort of gotten over that. I told my brother that I may go back Thursday because of work even though I am supposed to stay here until Sun (my birthday is Sat.), and he was like, can't you just get it done here? So, maybe they don't mind. I mean, if anything, I am a distraction for E.
So I went this morning to go get some coffee and a bagel. I was up and dressed and ready to go (sit at the dinning room table and work all day) by 8:07. That's 7:07 Chicago time. I wonder if I am going to be on this weird schedule when I get back there of going to bed at 9 and getting up at 5:45 since that is about when my nephew gets up (6:45 Eastern). I didn't really want to start working that early - no one in Chicago is online yet. Who would I talk to? I like the idea of moving out of Chicago and working remotely all the time - but at the same time I don't like the idea. Can I imagine sitting here all day alone? Not sure.
I like the idea of coffee but it makes my stomach hurt unless I drink a decaf latte. Yeah, I am one of those people. Medium, decaf, skim latte with sugar-free vanilla. I hate Starbucks by the way.
I have devised a way to sleep through the noise my nephew makes in the morning - well, sort of. I take the heaviest pillow on the bed and put it over my head (laying on my stomach so only one ear is exposed). I pull the corner down tight, pull the blankets up, and then leave a little crack for fresh air. It really does muffle any noise - he talks constantly pretty much. This morning, there I was, thinking about going back to sleep and wondering what time it was when all of a sudden I feel the blankets move. I thought - what the hell - is the dog in here again (the door doesn't have a lock and the dog can open it - I've been barricading it with my bag at night)? I didn't even hear the door open. I peek out from under the pillow to see my nephew peering into the bed, bright eyed and smiling with his wooden dog on a string that I bought him last year.
"Tunna," he says. "Yes, I am kind of in a tunnel," I tell him. "Tunna. En too. In der. Dog. In der. Tunna. En too. En too. In der. Tunna, tunna." What I think he is trying to say is - can the dog go in the tunnel too? I put the dog in the tunnel and I invited him into the tunnel too - thinking what a clever way to get to stay in bed longer, but he wasn't interested. He just wanted me to go downstairs. So he gathered whatever he thought was required to get me out of bed - which included my watch, my cell phone and my bottle of water and said, "go, en too." Which I believe means come with me.
More later...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Anywhere but here
I have long suffered from the desire to be anywhere but here. My whole life probably. And by here I do mean literally wherever it is that I happen to be at the moment. I would rather be somewhere else most of the time. I don't feel this way all of the time anymore, but when I do feel it, it is acute. I feel the impulse to run. I feel that feeling of being so uncomfortable in your own skin that you don't think you can sit in it. I guess I would say that I have been feeling this way less and less as the past 2.5 years have gone by. In fact, maybe I haven't even felt it in a while. But I am intimately familiar with the feeling. Maybe feeling it now, feeling the way it feels now after not having felt it in a while is like the fist time I felt really anxious after having a reprieve from anxiety. It was different, less tolerable, more obvious.
This feeling, it is borne out of a desire to avoid, as if changing circumstances can change the underlying reality. I think it used to have more to do with the fact that I always used to feel like I could be someone else if I were just in a different location. If I wanted to change, I just had to change locations, clothes, cars, boyfriends, jobs - that kind of thing. It was never consciously to avoid feeling something, though maybe that was always a part of it. Now it is definitely to avoid feeling the way that I feel - or the way that I would feel, if I wasn't right in the middle of trying to distract myself.
I am in Michigan. And it isn't a bad place to be it's just that I feel like going home and I've only been here a few hours. But here's the thing, I don't feel like being in Chicago either. I wanted to come here this week for the distraction - to get away. So that I wouldn't be alone, so that I wouldn't have to think about being diagnosed with breast cancer, so I would have something to do on my birthday instead of spending it alone. Either way I can't win because I don't want to be here or there.
All I wanted was not to have to think about it. It's all I can think about. And when I do think about it, the pain of the entire experience is overwhelming. The fear is indescribable like I've said. I don't really know what to do. I am definitely an isolationist. And I thought that it would make the most sense to come here, to force myself to spend the week with my nephew and my friends here and family - cause I never come home for a week - usually only 3 or 4 days at a time. But there is this part of me that doesn't want to be around anyone because if I have to feel this way and I have to find some way to deal with it, I just deal better with things alone. There is nothing anyone can say anyway. And maybe it isn't so bad to just sit in my house and cry about it. Maybe I am perpetuating the problem by coming here instead of just staying there and feeling however I would feel. I'm not sure really.
More later...
This feeling, it is borne out of a desire to avoid, as if changing circumstances can change the underlying reality. I think it used to have more to do with the fact that I always used to feel like I could be someone else if I were just in a different location. If I wanted to change, I just had to change locations, clothes, cars, boyfriends, jobs - that kind of thing. It was never consciously to avoid feeling something, though maybe that was always a part of it. Now it is definitely to avoid feeling the way that I feel - or the way that I would feel, if I wasn't right in the middle of trying to distract myself.
I am in Michigan. And it isn't a bad place to be it's just that I feel like going home and I've only been here a few hours. But here's the thing, I don't feel like being in Chicago either. I wanted to come here this week for the distraction - to get away. So that I wouldn't be alone, so that I wouldn't have to think about being diagnosed with breast cancer, so I would have something to do on my birthday instead of spending it alone. Either way I can't win because I don't want to be here or there.
All I wanted was not to have to think about it. It's all I can think about. And when I do think about it, the pain of the entire experience is overwhelming. The fear is indescribable like I've said. I don't really know what to do. I am definitely an isolationist. And I thought that it would make the most sense to come here, to force myself to spend the week with my nephew and my friends here and family - cause I never come home for a week - usually only 3 or 4 days at a time. But there is this part of me that doesn't want to be around anyone because if I have to feel this way and I have to find some way to deal with it, I just deal better with things alone. There is nothing anyone can say anyway. And maybe it isn't so bad to just sit in my house and cry about it. Maybe I am perpetuating the problem by coming here instead of just staying there and feeling however I would feel. I'm not sure really.
More later...
Friday, May 09, 2008
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
About faith and surviving
I don't know what ever made me think it would be easier this time. It's harder actually and I don't know why. People have always told me that the difficulty would ease with time, but for me it has been the opposite. The anniversary of the day that I was diagnosed with breast cancer is fast approaching. I can't breathe. It is still 8 days away though and I wonder if the next 8 days are going to feel like this. And the days after, if I live through them.
This time of year has become something, well, that I can't describe. To say that I dread it wouldn't be accurate, but I would give anything to just freeze myself in a moment that isn't this one. My birthday is 2 days after the day that I was diagnosed. The day in between, the 16th of May, is a day that is almost intolerable for me. This time of year was always a time of reflecting for me - the night before my birthday was always the time of year that I re-evaluated everything. I left nothing unchecked and for many years, year after year, I would write a suicide note on that day. Now all I can think about is how desperately I want to live and how overwhelming the fear is that I might not get to. A fear that I mostly ignore, but am not always able to.
It is moments like this one where I am confronted with the fact that I never really dealt with anything I went though. I never processed it, I never came to terms with what it means. I have never figured out how to live with it. And while I do have a real appreciation for life, for the fact that it can be taken away from you or permanently changed in an unanticipated tragedy, in a heart beat - a split second, in an otherwise benign moment - while I have an ability to appreciate even the smallest of things that I never used to even notice - trying to live in the aftermath of it, is, well - I can't find the words to tell you about it. The only thing I can say about it - I have said before. It's like this - imagine that you could know the moment when it would all be over - you could anticipate that second when it would all change - and then imagine what it is like to live in the hours and days leading up to that moment - imagine trying to live in the anticipation of it. Every day of my life is like this - trying to live in anticipation of that moment. And what do you do with the time? You try to live it, you try to love every second of it, you try to make the most of every last, little bit of it, you try to be grateful. But you think mostly about what you regret and what you would change and the fact that you don't have the time to. Time. There have been many things that I have wanted, that I have wanted desperately, that I still want. But I would give it all up - I would hand it all over in exchange for one thing. Time, and more of it.
I was thinking this morning about the fact that I am still sitting here when perhaps by all accounts, I shouldn't be. I was thinking about how that came to pass and where to turn in these moments that feel unlivable. I was thinking about faith because I have this faith in a higher power - through AA - that is probably almost unshakable. Almost. But what does that mean? There but for the grace of God go I. It doesn't mean that I won't get breast cancer again. Even God can't make that happen for me. I have come to realize that. I have come to appreciate through my own experience and through the experiences of others, some of whom I have met here through the blog world, that really bad things happen to really amazing people and there are some things even my faith in a higher power can't fix. I don't even pray for God to please let me not get breast cancer again - except for on very rare occasions. What my faith means to me today is simply that whatever I have to go through - whatever it is, no matter what it is - I will walk through it more gracefully than I otherwise would have. It means that in a moment of utter desperation, I may be granted that temporary reprieve - otherwise known as grace. That is all I can really hope for.
I was thinking also about this woman this morning - I don't know her but I posted about her last year. She was dying and I honestly don't know whether she has passed away yet or not because I no longer know the person who told me about her. But I think about her and I pray for her sometimes. What I pray for hasn't changed. I pray for her the same thing that I pray for myself - and that is simply to be unafraid. I pasted that post below because she was on my mind this morning.
***********************************************************************************
May 16, 2007
The day in between
Today is the day in between. The day in between the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, and my 30th birthday. It is the day after everything changed. The day after nothing made sense anymore. The day after I and my life would never be the same. It is the day I didn't kill myself, even though I had planned to.
It is the day, every year, that I question everything and accept nothing. The day that I wonder how I got here, right here, to this moment and I am always amazed, no matter where I find myself. It is the day that I recount the ways I wish my life were different and that I analyze the ways that my life does not meet my expectations. But unlike other years, I will not forget that I am grateful.
The gratitude though is colored with what I can only describe as doubt and a feeling of unworthiness. That I, of all people, for whom God has performed multiple miracles, did not deserve it. There is this woman - and I don't know her, but a friend told me about her. We share the same name. She is 35 and dying of cancer. She has a family and small children. I pray for her.
This morning I thought, why, God, would you take her away from so many people who love her, when I have no one to leave behind? And though I can't say I know exactly what it would be like to go through what she is going through, to die, as I sit here, living, I feel for her a pain that is almost intolerable. It is ripping my heart out. I have tried to imagine it - in order to prepare myself for the very real possibility that I may one day be sitting where she is sitting. And today, right now, I think I know what that would feel like. It is indescribable.
When I pray for her - I pray for the things that I pray for myself. For God's will above all other things and that she can go on, unafraid - that she has peace, that her children can find some way to understand what there is simply no explanation for, and that she has the strength that I have. Mostly I pray that she is not afraid, because I would be terrified.
If you are reading this, and you know me - so you know my name, please pray for her. I do believe in miracles.
************************************************************************************
This time of year has become something, well, that I can't describe. To say that I dread it wouldn't be accurate, but I would give anything to just freeze myself in a moment that isn't this one. My birthday is 2 days after the day that I was diagnosed. The day in between, the 16th of May, is a day that is almost intolerable for me. This time of year was always a time of reflecting for me - the night before my birthday was always the time of year that I re-evaluated everything. I left nothing unchecked and for many years, year after year, I would write a suicide note on that day. Now all I can think about is how desperately I want to live and how overwhelming the fear is that I might not get to. A fear that I mostly ignore, but am not always able to.
It is moments like this one where I am confronted with the fact that I never really dealt with anything I went though. I never processed it, I never came to terms with what it means. I have never figured out how to live with it. And while I do have a real appreciation for life, for the fact that it can be taken away from you or permanently changed in an unanticipated tragedy, in a heart beat - a split second, in an otherwise benign moment - while I have an ability to appreciate even the smallest of things that I never used to even notice - trying to live in the aftermath of it, is, well - I can't find the words to tell you about it. The only thing I can say about it - I have said before. It's like this - imagine that you could know the moment when it would all be over - you could anticipate that second when it would all change - and then imagine what it is like to live in the hours and days leading up to that moment - imagine trying to live in the anticipation of it. Every day of my life is like this - trying to live in anticipation of that moment. And what do you do with the time? You try to live it, you try to love every second of it, you try to make the most of every last, little bit of it, you try to be grateful. But you think mostly about what you regret and what you would change and the fact that you don't have the time to. Time. There have been many things that I have wanted, that I have wanted desperately, that I still want. But I would give it all up - I would hand it all over in exchange for one thing. Time, and more of it.
I was thinking this morning about the fact that I am still sitting here when perhaps by all accounts, I shouldn't be. I was thinking about how that came to pass and where to turn in these moments that feel unlivable. I was thinking about faith because I have this faith in a higher power - through AA - that is probably almost unshakable. Almost. But what does that mean? There but for the grace of God go I. It doesn't mean that I won't get breast cancer again. Even God can't make that happen for me. I have come to realize that. I have come to appreciate through my own experience and through the experiences of others, some of whom I have met here through the blog world, that really bad things happen to really amazing people and there are some things even my faith in a higher power can't fix. I don't even pray for God to please let me not get breast cancer again - except for on very rare occasions. What my faith means to me today is simply that whatever I have to go through - whatever it is, no matter what it is - I will walk through it more gracefully than I otherwise would have. It means that in a moment of utter desperation, I may be granted that temporary reprieve - otherwise known as grace. That is all I can really hope for.
I was thinking also about this woman this morning - I don't know her but I posted about her last year. She was dying and I honestly don't know whether she has passed away yet or not because I no longer know the person who told me about her. But I think about her and I pray for her sometimes. What I pray for hasn't changed. I pray for her the same thing that I pray for myself - and that is simply to be unafraid. I pasted that post below because she was on my mind this morning.
***********************************************************************************
May 16, 2007
The day in between
Today is the day in between. The day in between the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, and my 30th birthday. It is the day after everything changed. The day after nothing made sense anymore. The day after I and my life would never be the same. It is the day I didn't kill myself, even though I had planned to.
It is the day, every year, that I question everything and accept nothing. The day that I wonder how I got here, right here, to this moment and I am always amazed, no matter where I find myself. It is the day that I recount the ways I wish my life were different and that I analyze the ways that my life does not meet my expectations. But unlike other years, I will not forget that I am grateful.
The gratitude though is colored with what I can only describe as doubt and a feeling of unworthiness. That I, of all people, for whom God has performed multiple miracles, did not deserve it. There is this woman - and I don't know her, but a friend told me about her. We share the same name. She is 35 and dying of cancer. She has a family and small children. I pray for her.
This morning I thought, why, God, would you take her away from so many people who love her, when I have no one to leave behind? And though I can't say I know exactly what it would be like to go through what she is going through, to die, as I sit here, living, I feel for her a pain that is almost intolerable. It is ripping my heart out. I have tried to imagine it - in order to prepare myself for the very real possibility that I may one day be sitting where she is sitting. And today, right now, I think I know what that would feel like. It is indescribable.
When I pray for her - I pray for the things that I pray for myself. For God's will above all other things and that she can go on, unafraid - that she has peace, that her children can find some way to understand what there is simply no explanation for, and that she has the strength that I have. Mostly I pray that she is not afraid, because I would be terrified.
If you are reading this, and you know me - so you know my name, please pray for her. I do believe in miracles.
************************************************************************************
Monday, May 05, 2008
I chickened out
I had every intention of talking to the partner I work for today about "the leave." Really, I did. It's become a thing now. It's taken on a shape of its own, it is causing me more upset than you can imagine. I was going to talk to him. I almost had the nerve. And then I lost it.
What is the worst they can say? No. I just keep thinking about what my friend said - what would you do if you could take fear out of it? Well, it's obvious then isn't it? How bad is it if they say no? All that will happen is that eventually I will have a mental break down and they will have to give me a medical leave. Either way, looks like I get a leave, whether they want to support me or not.
And would it impact my working relationship with these people if they say no? Only insofar as my resentment might propel me more quickly into a state of breakdown than would otherwise be the case.
What I need is to stop believing that I am being unreasonable by wanting time off now, after all this time. If I thought I deserved it I would go ask for it, but some part of me thinks I am being selfish and unfair to them by suddenly (is it really all that suddenly?) needing time off.
I'm giving myself until Wednesday. Here's the thing - I have two hurdles. There is the person I work for and the head of my group. Two different people with two different personalities and two different reactions. I figure I need the okay of the partner I work for before I go to the head of the group. The first level is the easy level. The partner I work for is the nicest most understanding person I've ever met. However, he is the one who will bear the brunt of my absence and that's why this is so hard. This is the easy level folks, and I'm chickening out.
By the way - I'm not recovering from last week very well.
What is the worst they can say? No. I just keep thinking about what my friend said - what would you do if you could take fear out of it? Well, it's obvious then isn't it? How bad is it if they say no? All that will happen is that eventually I will have a mental break down and they will have to give me a medical leave. Either way, looks like I get a leave, whether they want to support me or not.
And would it impact my working relationship with these people if they say no? Only insofar as my resentment might propel me more quickly into a state of breakdown than would otherwise be the case.
What I need is to stop believing that I am being unreasonable by wanting time off now, after all this time. If I thought I deserved it I would go ask for it, but some part of me thinks I am being selfish and unfair to them by suddenly (is it really all that suddenly?) needing time off.
I'm giving myself until Wednesday. Here's the thing - I have two hurdles. There is the person I work for and the head of my group. Two different people with two different personalities and two different reactions. I figure I need the okay of the partner I work for before I go to the head of the group. The first level is the easy level. The partner I work for is the nicest most understanding person I've ever met. However, he is the one who will bear the brunt of my absence and that's why this is so hard. This is the easy level folks, and I'm chickening out.
By the way - I'm not recovering from last week very well.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
This week is the week
This week is the week that I somehow muster up the nerve to go ask for a leave of absence. Why? Because I can't keep putting if off and like I said, it seems like the prime time considering we have had a lot of projects go well, and given my obvious willingness to do whatever is necessary to make a client happy (i.e., this past week). Seems like the perfect time. Plus, when did I first mention that I wanted to do this? At least a month ago.
I am hesitating partly because I'm not exactly sure whether to take a leave of 6 weeks (or 8 - can I get away with 8?), or a vacation of 3 weeks. Do I want to have to make the billable time up? No (so I need a leave). Do I still want to get paid? Yes (so I need a vacation). What's more important? Not having to make the time up (so I need a leave). That's two votes for leave. Leave wins. I could go on for hours trying to sort this out. I need to just to ask. Oh wait, I mean inform. Or something in between I guess.
When I think about it - I just feel like crying. It being everything - my job and everything I went though. Why? Because I've worked my ass off for these people while going through hell, quite literally - and what have I gotten for it? Sure, my raise, some bonus money, yes they appreciate it, yes they like me, yes they are happy with me and my work - but what does it really mean? Nothing. In the end it is meaningless and even though I like my job a lot - it's hard to do it sometimes after having been through what I went through. It's hard to take my job seriously and a client's panic over a document seriously, when, you know - you can appreciate what it's like to face the possibility of dying. Who cares about a fucking document. Seriously. Sometimes I feel like saying let's have a little perspective here people.
I just want some time off because every time I think about what I went through - I just want to go sit in my closet and cry. Why the closet? It's smaller, safer. Contained. Because if I give it even more than a passing thought - it being everything I went though - I feel like I can't breathe, like I can't live with it, like I can't keep going as if it didn't happen, as if my life is the same - like it just stopped and started again and I lost some time in the interim. That isn't what happened. It isn't the same. I'm not the same. Everything is different and nothing makes sense. It's like I've said before - it's like tying to put pieces back together into something recognizable and nothing fits. It doesn't fit.
But I can't deal with it either. My only option is to pretend like it didn't happen because having to deal with it is impossible - having to figure out how to live with it is impossible. I can't live with it. I can't live with the constant anxiety about dying - the constant fear about it coming back - about it spreading. If I face it at all, it permeates everything. It is impossible, on a daily basis. And so I ignore it. I pretend that I am like everyone else, but I'm not. And I work a lot because I don't know what else to do. How else can I make the fear go away - the feeling go away? The only way to deal with it, to live with it, is to not feel it. Because what the hell are you supposed to do with that kind of fear and that kind of pain? It isn't the kind of thing that ever goes away - it doesn't lessen with time.
People always tell me that I tell the story of surviving breast cancer as if it happened to someone else. And they are right. I do. I have yet to connect the emotion to the experience - it is fragmented, it is almost unreal. I have so little emotion connected to the experience that I might be able to convince myself that it never happened at all. Except that it did.
And I can't seem to figure out how to live with it, or process it.
11 days from now is the 2 year anniversary of when I was diagnosed. In 13 days, it is my 31st birthday.
I am hesitating partly because I'm not exactly sure whether to take a leave of 6 weeks (or 8 - can I get away with 8?), or a vacation of 3 weeks. Do I want to have to make the billable time up? No (so I need a leave). Do I still want to get paid? Yes (so I need a vacation). What's more important? Not having to make the time up (so I need a leave). That's two votes for leave. Leave wins. I could go on for hours trying to sort this out. I need to just to ask. Oh wait, I mean inform. Or something in between I guess.
When I think about it - I just feel like crying. It being everything - my job and everything I went though. Why? Because I've worked my ass off for these people while going through hell, quite literally - and what have I gotten for it? Sure, my raise, some bonus money, yes they appreciate it, yes they like me, yes they are happy with me and my work - but what does it really mean? Nothing. In the end it is meaningless and even though I like my job a lot - it's hard to do it sometimes after having been through what I went through. It's hard to take my job seriously and a client's panic over a document seriously, when, you know - you can appreciate what it's like to face the possibility of dying. Who cares about a fucking document. Seriously. Sometimes I feel like saying let's have a little perspective here people.
I just want some time off because every time I think about what I went through - I just want to go sit in my closet and cry. Why the closet? It's smaller, safer. Contained. Because if I give it even more than a passing thought - it being everything I went though - I feel like I can't breathe, like I can't live with it, like I can't keep going as if it didn't happen, as if my life is the same - like it just stopped and started again and I lost some time in the interim. That isn't what happened. It isn't the same. I'm not the same. Everything is different and nothing makes sense. It's like I've said before - it's like tying to put pieces back together into something recognizable and nothing fits. It doesn't fit.
But I can't deal with it either. My only option is to pretend like it didn't happen because having to deal with it is impossible - having to figure out how to live with it is impossible. I can't live with it. I can't live with the constant anxiety about dying - the constant fear about it coming back - about it spreading. If I face it at all, it permeates everything. It is impossible, on a daily basis. And so I ignore it. I pretend that I am like everyone else, but I'm not. And I work a lot because I don't know what else to do. How else can I make the fear go away - the feeling go away? The only way to deal with it, to live with it, is to not feel it. Because what the hell are you supposed to do with that kind of fear and that kind of pain? It isn't the kind of thing that ever goes away - it doesn't lessen with time.
People always tell me that I tell the story of surviving breast cancer as if it happened to someone else. And they are right. I do. I have yet to connect the emotion to the experience - it is fragmented, it is almost unreal. I have so little emotion connected to the experience that I might be able to convince myself that it never happened at all. Except that it did.
And I can't seem to figure out how to live with it, or process it.
11 days from now is the 2 year anniversary of when I was diagnosed. In 13 days, it is my 31st birthday.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Tired
I'm extremely tired. Unfortunately though, I may have passed the point of tired into that realm of beyond tired, you know, where you are so tired that you can't sleep. Cause I should be asleep right now. But I've had a rough week and I find it hard to come down off the stress of it, well, at all. I actually feel kind of like I could just sit here all night and work. Might not be a bad idea - I might have some hope of catching up.
I've had a lot of things that I wanted to blog about - like going to Michigan last weekend, but instead, I've been working from 8 a.m. until midnight every day. This is really out of the ordinary. I know I've said lately that I'm working more hours than normal - but this is really ridiculous. What happened is that Wednesday morning, after I had wandered in a little late, and was feeling pretty good about my work load considering we were set to go to Toronto on Thursday morning for our annual meeting...the head of the group showed up at my door and asked me if I could fix a project that had been messed up by two other lawyers - and could I fix it by Friday.
But of course I can. Well, no, I couldn't. But, I was going to make every effort. So we worked until midnight on Wednesday and then when I checked in with him Thursday before heading to the airport he asked me to stay behind in Chicago to work on it because it had to be done Friday. I asked him if I could keep a staff attorney to help me so we both stayed behind. There were reasons I wasn't looking forward to Toronto - like the fact that it's a drunk fest and not all that easy for me to sit through the dinners without drinking (okay, it's actually really hard) - but I had plans to meet up with a fellow blogger and I was really looking forward to it. I feel terrible that I had to cancel at the last minute. Plus, you know, my work load felt manageable for the first time in a while, until this project happened.
Anyway, for three days we have worked until midnight and the project isn't done. Not only is the project not done, but I am extremely far behind on all of my regular work. I'm so far behind that I don't know if it is possible to catch up. We are frequently behind - but it isn't because I'm behind. Normally I am on top of things and things are backed up on the partner's desk. I've been getting a new perspective lately - I feel the partner's pain. I've been delegating everything I possibly can to a staff attorney so now things are backed up on the partner's desk and on mine. I'm seriously far behind and I don't like this feeling.
I could work all weekend and barely get this project almost done and not even catch up. I really didn't want to work this weekend. But what can I do? I mean, even if I do work this weekend, I'm still screwed for next week - that's how far behind I am.
My sink is a mess, full of dishes - God knows why cause I'm not eating at home. The mail hasn't been opened, the laundry isn't done, the bills aren't paid, the bathroom is dirty and I've been eating every meal out, and well, eating like shit basically.
It's weeks like this that make me feel crazy for ever thinking that I don't deserve my pay check or don't work hard enough. It averages out I guess. I can't really remember how long it's been since it's been this busy - 6 weeks, only a month, I don't have any idea. I just know that I can't keep working like this for much longer without that break I've been talking about - that leave of absence that I haven't asked for.
I'm thinking now is the time to ask. We've had a lot of projects go very well lately and a lot of happy clients. I'm thinking that next week, after this project is done, and we all get over it a little (meaning me) - that will be the prime time to walk into his office and say, "yeah, so you know that project that I just pulled out of my ass? I'll be taking 6 weeks off. Thanks."
Life is too short to work this much. Yeah my job is great and all - but the thing is, if I am diagnosed with breast cancer again tomorrow - I'm sure as hell going to wish I had worked less over the past year and a half. I really really need a break. I really feel like I'm hitting a breaking point. A day off here and there isn't cutting it. The week before this past week - I was basically off Wed. through Sun. when I went to Michigan and I already was feeling like shit about work by Monday night. You know it's bad when you are reviewing your health insurance benefits and thinking - wow, I have 45 days of inpatient mental health coverage and 45 days of inpatient substance abuse treatment. Rock on. Sign me up. Check me in. I am prepared to declare myself totally unstable and a danger to myself (and possibly others) if it means I can get some damn time off.
More to follow - something more interesting than how many hours I'm working I hope.
I've had a lot of things that I wanted to blog about - like going to Michigan last weekend, but instead, I've been working from 8 a.m. until midnight every day. This is really out of the ordinary. I know I've said lately that I'm working more hours than normal - but this is really ridiculous. What happened is that Wednesday morning, after I had wandered in a little late, and was feeling pretty good about my work load considering we were set to go to Toronto on Thursday morning for our annual meeting...the head of the group showed up at my door and asked me if I could fix a project that had been messed up by two other lawyers - and could I fix it by Friday.
But of course I can. Well, no, I couldn't. But, I was going to make every effort. So we worked until midnight on Wednesday and then when I checked in with him Thursday before heading to the airport he asked me to stay behind in Chicago to work on it because it had to be done Friday. I asked him if I could keep a staff attorney to help me so we both stayed behind. There were reasons I wasn't looking forward to Toronto - like the fact that it's a drunk fest and not all that easy for me to sit through the dinners without drinking (okay, it's actually really hard) - but I had plans to meet up with a fellow blogger and I was really looking forward to it. I feel terrible that I had to cancel at the last minute. Plus, you know, my work load felt manageable for the first time in a while, until this project happened.
Anyway, for three days we have worked until midnight and the project isn't done. Not only is the project not done, but I am extremely far behind on all of my regular work. I'm so far behind that I don't know if it is possible to catch up. We are frequently behind - but it isn't because I'm behind. Normally I am on top of things and things are backed up on the partner's desk. I've been getting a new perspective lately - I feel the partner's pain. I've been delegating everything I possibly can to a staff attorney so now things are backed up on the partner's desk and on mine. I'm seriously far behind and I don't like this feeling.
I could work all weekend and barely get this project almost done and not even catch up. I really didn't want to work this weekend. But what can I do? I mean, even if I do work this weekend, I'm still screwed for next week - that's how far behind I am.
My sink is a mess, full of dishes - God knows why cause I'm not eating at home. The mail hasn't been opened, the laundry isn't done, the bills aren't paid, the bathroom is dirty and I've been eating every meal out, and well, eating like shit basically.
It's weeks like this that make me feel crazy for ever thinking that I don't deserve my pay check or don't work hard enough. It averages out I guess. I can't really remember how long it's been since it's been this busy - 6 weeks, only a month, I don't have any idea. I just know that I can't keep working like this for much longer without that break I've been talking about - that leave of absence that I haven't asked for.
I'm thinking now is the time to ask. We've had a lot of projects go very well lately and a lot of happy clients. I'm thinking that next week, after this project is done, and we all get over it a little (meaning me) - that will be the prime time to walk into his office and say, "yeah, so you know that project that I just pulled out of my ass? I'll be taking 6 weeks off. Thanks."
Life is too short to work this much. Yeah my job is great and all - but the thing is, if I am diagnosed with breast cancer again tomorrow - I'm sure as hell going to wish I had worked less over the past year and a half. I really really need a break. I really feel like I'm hitting a breaking point. A day off here and there isn't cutting it. The week before this past week - I was basically off Wed. through Sun. when I went to Michigan and I already was feeling like shit about work by Monday night. You know it's bad when you are reviewing your health insurance benefits and thinking - wow, I have 45 days of inpatient mental health coverage and 45 days of inpatient substance abuse treatment. Rock on. Sign me up. Check me in. I am prepared to declare myself totally unstable and a danger to myself (and possibly others) if it means I can get some damn time off.
More to follow - something more interesting than how many hours I'm working I hope.
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