Crazy

Last night was tough. There is a deep sense of loneliness I am still unwilling to totally admit I feel and I'm not sure why. Well that's not true. I guess it goes back to my independence issues and having to admit that I actually need another human being to be part of my life. As always on the surface everything is great. I am loving my new freelance lifestyle, I am especially loving not having to commute amongst thousands of inconsiderate people who make me angry, and I'm still being social...at least as social as I've ever been. I've even joined a few groups on meetup .com. I'm happy.

But then suddenly out of nowhere I cried last night. Couldn't sleep, couldn't shut off my brain. I haven't done that since therapy. Possibly hormones, possibly the frustration I still have with myself just surfacing again. I don't know. I just wish it would leave me alone. I haven't posted in awhile because it actually has been leaving me alone- I guess I should be grateful for that. So I guess what I mean is leave me alone forever. I just received an email from someone who called me 'clearly nuts'. If he only knew the stuff I don't post that goes on in my head. Maybe I am crazy. But crazy people find other people all the time. Where's my other crazy half?

My mother once said that she wanted me to find someone and get married because then she'd know I was happy and it would make her happy. Sometimes her view of the world can be simplistic. I know her heart is in the right place but it ended up feeling like pressure. Like her happiness depends on me getting married. It's irrational and by some people's account crazy I know, but I can't stop the knee jerk reaction. It's a product of the emotional environment I grew up in.

So the other day I said to her, "what if I don't ever find someone?" just to get a reaction and admittedly to hear someone say to me yet again, "don't be ridiculous you'll find someone. He's out there." Apparently I am in need of some positive reinforcement. Her reply was completely unexpected. "Well, sometimes people don't. Look at your aunt and your cousin." My aunt, rest her soul, never married and my cousin who is older than me is still single. I wonder, in retrospect, if this shows a little growth on her part but at the time it just made me want to run out into the middle of traffic.

Why couldn't she have f'ed me up in some other way? I would gladly take her fear of water, her struggling self-confidence or even her fear of travel over whatever the hell my problem with relationships is. It's so fundamental...so baseline...so essential to being human and I feel like I'm just totally missing that building block in my foundation. I've just been rolling around with a little piece missing but didn't know it until someone cut me and it started to bleed. Six years of blog posts later, Shel Silverstein would be disappointed in me.

The Business of Solitude

The happiest of all lives is a busy solitude. ~Voltaire

My old mantra popped back into my consciousness as of late: Maybe I'm meant to be alone. Having quit my job and now am in waiting for freelance work I've had a lot of time with my solitude. A lot. I knew before I quit that this might happen, but I took my chances. I've been more or less keeping myself busy with all the things I've always wanted to get done, but no one can be busy 24/7. Thus I am pretty happy according to Voltaire (he's not wrong), except during the moments when I'm not.

I don't really believe anyone is meant to be alone, but it is definitely much harder for some of us than others to escape the solo situation. Once we leave the transient, yet structured institutions of education how do we meet new people? As much as I want it to, the online thing just isn't working. How can a relatively normal woman who leans a little to the introverted side find someone? I came across a website that does a sort of singles travel thing which I'm very interested in, but I have to get my finances in order before I can even think about that.

The bff and I were discussing how I could get "out there" again. I said, you know people have just shown me over and over how shit they can be. She said, yeah but you only need one to show you he's not. I said, so how do you find a needle in a haystack when you're allergic to hay?

Awesomeness

Last night I dreamed (dreamt?) my yoga instructor (who I have a yogi crush on) and Lady Gaga, amongst many other random celebrities, were at a party that was taking place in my childhood home. We were in my bedroom, complete with pink carpet, tie die peace poster and full length princess mirror in the corner. I don't have a particular love for Gaga so I'm not sure why she was there, but I thought my best friends would die if they saw a picture of me and La Gaags in my childhood bedroom. So in an act that makes total sense I handed her the camera and she started taking pictures of me and my yogi crush.

I feel like the last year of my life has gone on this way. Something happens that seems awesome and then for some unknown reason I turn around and do something completely inane.

All I can do is hope that one of these times the outcome of my backwardness is awesome too.

Career Nutshell in the Vaguest Sense

Well, well 2012, better late than never, no? I've been waiting patiently for you for ages. I know you've got lots of things, good things, hidden in the months of your year and I can't wait for them. You're like my life's Santa Claus and I've been a very, very good girl so shower me with gifts dammit. I deserve it.

About six months ago I quit a job with a company I had been with for eight and a half years. I worked my way up through the ranks at a painfully slow rate comparatively speaking to some of my (i'm going to say it please don't cringe) male counterparts. Despite being constantly told how talented and valuable I was, I watched two male co-workers come from behind me and get promoted above me, one right after the other. I work in a male dominated field (which is allegedly changing) but as far as my career goes I have always been at most one of two women in the department. My lack of stepping up for myself, an insecure, vindictive female boss and the relative charm and smarts of my male co-workers (whom I don't blame) kept me from rising the ranks faster. It sucks to have to admit that I played a part in how hard my career has been. At any rate, I spent many years there frustrated but unable to get a job elsewhere. When I was finally denied my latest promotion, and told to my face in so many words that they knew I was totally capable of handling the job but they were going with someone else, I quit.

It was a great feeling.

Of course I did have another job lined up which gave me the promotion I deserved.

And I was SO excited. My own optimism still surprises me at times. I couldn't wait to do all the things I had been denied and to be part of a new creative team that was about to embark on a huge project. The timing seemed impeccable.

Then I started the new job. I liked my boss a lot but I couldn't quit seem to get into the groove of his creative sense. It wasn't until later that I realized it was because his creative sense is insane. I quickly learned the big company project was handed to an outside vendor and the internal day to day job seemed way harder than it needed to be, especially because in retrospect I was only doing the work of the position below me. After three months I started to think maybe this wasn't going to get better, the creative process was unstructured, frustrating and not conducive to good work. After another month I realized it was only going to get worse. The directors I worked with still tried to do my job while failing to do their own. It's like having the IT guy standing over your shoulder telling you what to do and then shoving you out of your chair to do it himself but then not really knowing what he's doing so he makes the problem worse. (No offense IT guys, but you know you do it.) By month five I decided to quit and after month six, which will be this coming Friday, I will be set free.

The difference is, aside from the time length, is this time I don't have a job lined up.

I am relying on my reputation (it's a small industry) and my connections to hopefully get me freelance work and the thought of not having a boss, not having to call anyone when I'm sick or having to ask for time off, makes my head spin with excitement. This is what I should have done long ago, but I know it never would have worked had I tried it before. I hate to say it, but it's only because of what I've been through that I have the confidence to go solo. It's thrilling.

I haven't felt this happy in a long time.

As you can probably guess there is no update on the men front. I seem to be unable or unwilling to handle both the professional and personal sides of life when something stressful happens on the work side. I'm hoping though with a change this big in my professional life the stresses I've faced before won't be an issue. There won't be anyone promoted past me or a boss choking my career. AND as a freelancer I'm hoping to be exposed to a lot more people- i.e. to meet a lot more men.

As always time will tell.

NSA

I watched her write it in my chart wearing an expression I'm sure read that hurts. Not Sexually Active. There is nothing derogatory or even slightly negative about it, it's just a medical fact simply stated. But man it still stings to see someone else put it out there, even if she is a doctor who has most likely written that in other women's charts without judgement. At least I hope.

My annual this year hurt like hell. I'm not sure why it seems to be more painful as I get older...maybe it's because physical pain is easily forgotten. At any rate, I tried to tell her I didn't need a pap this year as I am still clearly NSA but she said it had been three years and blah blah blah. I didn't fight it. Though if I had known I'd be walking around with what felt like an internal paper cut I would have.

Every once in a while I check out site meter and find out what leads people to my blog. And still, three years later, it's this post. After reading all the comments I have certainly had to re-evaluate all I've been told and consequently what I believe about my own health. It was a surprise to discover patriarchy has his dirty hands in what has clearly become a profitable industry: women's health. A US Government Health Panel has decided against an annual

"...blood test to screen for prostate cancer because the test does not save lives over all and often leads to more tests and treatments that needlessly cause pain..."

but yet Pap Smears, which often produce false negatives, aren't necessary for all women all the time and are also a source of needless anxiety, are "being performed against guidelines" and add to health care costs as well.

(2007 CDC statistics)

http://www.cdc.gov/cancer/cervical/statistics/index.htm

• 12,280 women in the United States were diagnosed with cervical cancer.
• 4,021 women in the United States died from cervical cancer

http://www.cdc.gov/cancer/prostate/statistics/

• 223,307 men in the United States were diagnosed with prostate cancer.
• 29,093 men in the United States died from prostate cancer

It never occurred to me that something was being forced on me that I didn't need. I knew I had to have one in order to get on the pill and I blindly accepted it as a part of keeping myself healthy. I should have known better. I am a big fan of educating yourself to protect yourself from circumstances such as these, but I'm also aware not everyone has access to education. Hell, I consider myself pretty intelligent but here I sit not knowing I'm being forced to do something I don't want or even necessarily need. How do you know when standard practices are wrong? It also (being wrapped up in my own American life) never occurred to me that women the world over are dealing with unwanted but required tests in an even uglier way.

I can't help but think someone has to be profiting from this otherwise it wouldn't be happening. The medical industry is just another notch in big corporate greed's belt. Or elsewhere in the world just another way to keep women in their place, scared and at someone else's behest.

Your sexual health, whether you are active or not, is an extremely important part of life. I'm just no longer sure who to trust to maintain my health. I'll still go to the doctor but I just won't believe every last thing I hear without looking it up for myself. Maybe it's not too late to go to medical school.

Strike Two

I asked another guy out, who by the way indicated on my profile of a certain dating site that he was interested in me FIRST, and he never responded.

Seriously?

Can I just get a date?

I know it may sound like I'm coming on strong but I swear I'm not. Aggressive is the last thing I know how to be so I don't get it.

I also realize that now that I'm finally ready both intellectually and emotionally to date doesn't mean it's going to happen this instant. But I mean, come on! Both of the guys I asked sent me either a subtle or a literal message they were interested, or at least liked me in some way.

I know I know. Patience grasshopper. I've got to be honest, it's not my strong suit. Lately I pretty much want to ask every guy I think is cute on the street if he wants to go for coffee.

Now that's a little desperate with a touch of aggressive. Especially considering I don't even drink coffee.

Mission: Turning New Leaf Accomplished

I asked a guy out today.

He said no, but in the sweetest way possible.

He's a nice boy.

I still like him.

I received an email from an ex-co-worker yesterday. We didn't really know each other that well and only worked directly together maybe once, but he sent an email to see how my new job was going. I always thought he was cute and despite not being together that often I sort of got the feeling he liked me. I never responded because a) we worked together and b) he's so young! At least 10 years my junior.

Anyway, the fact that he sent an email out of the blue made me think maybe he was interested in getting together, so I replied with an ask. Paraphrased it went like this: "at the risk of sounding dumb, I've always thought you were cute and now that we don't work together why don't we go out?"

He replied with an answer full of compliments that made me smile. Paraphrased it went like this: "I've always thought you were cute too, but I've actually just started seeing someone and want to see where it goes. But I want you to know that I would totally go out with you otherwise."

Sigh. I know I just started but can I please just get the timing right?

Yellow Equals Cute and Taken, Apparently

Scene: Queen Vee stops at the organic market (yes I'm one of those people. I've seen one too many documentaries on the way our food is prepared and am freaked out enough to bleed more money for the ancient way of growing food. Naturally.) on her way home from work. She waits at the deli counter for her half pound of honey turkey as a male walks up. She instantly turns 13.

QV: oooo he's cute! he's tall! i love his yellow t-shirt, how cute! he's cute! i should say something! say something! ooo he has a nice body too.
(looks away, a little surprised that she actually noticed his body)
Second Deli Counter Guy: Next?
(cute guy doesn't move)
QV: wait, is he cute or am i telling myself that because i really, REALLY want to go on a date already?
(steals another glance)
Second Deli Counter Guy: Next?
(cute guy still doesn't move)
QV: no he's cute. say something! say something dammit! eerrrr what if he's married. does he have a ring?
(tries inconspicuously to look at his hand)
QV: no ring. but what about a girlfriend? well the only way to find out is to SAY SOMETHING. he probably has one. he's wearing a yellow shirt AND he's cute.
Second Deli Counter Guy: Next?
(cute guy yet still doesn't move)
QV: (raises her hand and sort of points at the deli guy) um...do you...?
Cute Guy: I'm still thinking.
QV: oh ok. ok now say something else. SAY SOMETHING ELSE.
First Deli Counter Guy: here you go!
QV: thank you! (smiles broadly making sure to look at cute guy still wearing the smile as she turns around)

Queen Vee heads over to produce, defeated.

QV: well, at least you smiled. that's a first.

Fin.

Let Go, Robot, Let Go

May, June, July, August...It's amazing how everything and nothing can change and stand still at what feels like exactly the same time. In the last four months my life has turned absolutely upside down, and yet right now, at this moment, I'm in exactly the same place I was a year ago before I had the meltdown and sought therapy. Well, with the exception that I am now well-adjusted and not floating in a sea of depression. So there's that.

In short, I traveled to Asia for two weeks, I bought a car, I quit my job because I found a better one, I terminated therapy, I will soon terminate the medication and I adopted two shelter pets. Out of all of that, I can't believe I didn't adopt my fur balls sooner. I wanted them but kept telling myself I couldn't handle it, the catastrophist that I am, so I lived without. Having animals greet me when I get home is the absolute greatest feeling. Being able to love something that loves you back unconditionally is doubly amazing...and before you start shaking your head I am not replacing romantic love with pet love, I'm just saying it's really nice to have a little daily love even if it comes in a little furry package.

My life is pretty amazing. I'm so grateful for all that I have, all that I've been able to work to achieve, and all I've become in my 33 years of life but I'm still clueless as to how I've not crossed paths with someone I'm attracted to and want to spend time with yet. After a year of therapy I've come to recognize a lot of patterns, protections and defense mechanisms that have lead me to this point in my emotional life, but it still doesn't explain everything. My therapist did not want me to stop but I'd had enough. It was way more stressful to go than it should have been and I needed a break. I needed to feel normal to some extent again.

I'm not saying I'll never go back because I am now aware of not only how much I needed it but also how much it helped me. However from this point on right now I need to take the next steps (to finding and getting into a relationship) on my own. I don't think she appreciated me feeling like therapy was a crutch, or rather a symbol that I was handicapping myself before I'd even started, but she understood it was holding me back from actually seeking a relationship. A glaring reason to not stop therapy I suppose but what could she do? No means no. It is one of my flaws that I need to experience my emotions privately, but it was one of my life lessons to discover that I need to share them afterwards.

So me having uninviting body language and shying away from social interactions aside, I've been told by friends and friends of friends after the fact that someone was interested in me. My newly encouraging mother says men are afraid of smart, pretty, successful women. So the fact that I'm smart and on the quiet side while socializing makes me a target not worth pursuing? Uh. I need a guy who sees that and takes a stab instead of pretending like I don't exist because I seem unattainable. Even if that was true in the past (being unattainable) maybe I would have more confidence if guys had more confidence and approached me. As much as that twists my feminist panties in a bunch to admit, it's nice to get the attention and it's only natural that it would boost my ego. Sometimes I need that. There I said it.

I try not to live my life regretting things, but every once in a while I wonder where I'd be today if I had kept the open heart I once had as a young girl. If I had some how made it through with even one less heartache so it hadn't slammed shut as hard as it did and for so long. But then I guess if I had maybe I wouldn't be as strong or as successful as I am. Who knows. I used to be a big proponent of 'things happen for a reason'. Now I believe things just happen. Sometimes you make them happen, sometimes they happen on their own. Control is an illusion, though it doesn't stop me from thinking I can have it. It's hard to approach finding someone to be with from both of these perspectives (making it happen and happening on its own) because I tend to lean to one side, depending on the day. My next step is to stop analyzing it so much and just let it go.

Let it go.

The theme of my life apparently. It took me 10 years to let go the pain I felt from one broken friendship, which is terrifying in terms of getting into a romantic relationship where love is supposed to be a truly binding connection. But my eyes are so much wider now and I can see so much more...and I've even come to accept that pain is part of it, it just doesn't have to be all consuming. I know I'll need help with that one if and when the time comes but at the very least I know that now. I don't have to lose another 10 years trying to suppress it while convincing myself I'm happy with all I have. It was a valiant effort but I only failed myself. Yet another type of pain to let go.

I do still believe that life is what you make it- and so I am happy with all I have I just know it's ok to want more...even if it contradicts everything I think. Not everything has to be rational. It's called being human. I think for a while there I was attempting to be a robot. It was just easier. So I've really tried to change my outer vibe- I'm smiling more and chatting more and just trying to invite the good in. I found another dating website that actually has potential and I'm trying to be more social in order to meet more people. So far it's a nice change. I haven't met anyone (or gone a date) yet, but I'm way closer than I've ever been before. Baby steps.

Note To Self

Dear Emotional self:

Why are you so far behind the rest of us? Why are you anchored to 2001? Financial self has grown tremendously! She refinanced her mortgage by herself and is taking steps to understand how to invest her money. Physical self is getting a little bit of an ego now that she has committed to yoga and can actually see tone in her arms and belly. And intellectual self, yours truly, has finally come to terms with her achievements and failures and her view of the future. She has finally admitted that finding someone to share her life with is not only important, but something she actually desires. Now that her priorities have changed, things are supposed to start falling in place. The only thing holding it all up is you emotional self. Yes you. With all your abstract fears and irrationalities you are weighing us down and making it very hard to take even the smallest step forward. Now I admit, I am not without fault here, I did manage to repress you for a good ten years, but now's your chance! You're free! Let it out! Catch the hell up to the rest of us before sexual self starts making noise and wakes self loathing self. Because no one wants that. She's such a bitch. So please emotional self, I implore you. Forgive me and let go of what happened. You are stronger now, it could never happen again. Start on a new track. Life is waiting for us.

Love,
Intellectual self

Crisis Completion, Next Mission

My whole existence has been fueled by an internal war. So many of my desires are completely contradicted by my behavior, and most of the while I've been aware of it. It's like I'm looking at myself under an enormous magnifying glass but my arms are strapped down and I've lost my voice. It's incredibly frustrating to feel paralyzed when you know your limbs work perfectly well.

What I've learned through this 'crisis' as my therapist calls it, is that there are repeating themes in my life stemming from the same behaviors. To name a few: I don't want to rely on or accept anyone's help because of the fierce independence I'm not even sure how I came to possess. I don't trust people because I'm afraid of what they will eventually want to take from me. That stems from knowing that I put others before myself even if it's to my own detriment and from experiencing painful friendships where I was taken advantage of for precisely that. I have a hard time standing up for myself because I don't want anyone to feel angry or bad or what have you. I think this also stems from putting other's feelings/needs ahead of my own. I run from confrontation because I don't want to get emotional. It goes on.

I thought I had been to the bottom of my emotional barrel and back but it turns out there's a whole other barrel I didn't even see.

I tried to end therapy. Again. I've been feeling really good lately and the sessions were becoming a source of anxiety. It felt like I was just chatting about my week and repeating myself about the whole dating thing. I wanted to stop them so I could enjoy the bit of happiness I've reclaimed. She said that if my goal was to get through the 'crisis' then yes, it has been reached. But there is still an underlying interpersonal issue that hasn't quite come to light yet that will surely come back at another point. She actually said, "don't you want to take care of this while you're still young?" I laughed. I don't feel young. Then again, I often feel like I'm 16 so I guess it's really irrelevant.

I don't feel like I can 'get out there' and meet people while I'm in therapy, because I don't want to talk about it and know that I will have to. I'm so sick of talking about myself and my feelings, I just want to clam up and enjoy my solitude again. I also feel the need to process things by myself. Sharing something new doesn't sit well with me. (E.g., I didn't tell anyone about Red until I'd known him a few weeks.) But I know this is exactly the same state I was in before I became dysthymic, and I would definitely end up there again if I didn't force myself to change my behavior and actively look for someone. So I am at a total standstill. I want to stop therapy to meet someone but I should stay in order to figure it out while with someone. I'm at a point now where I despise myself for all of this, but I know I have to do something different than I was before. Therapy is different. I guess. The part of me that wants to end it also believes that I am totally capable of getting into a relationship without any help. But there's a little voice that squeaks, "what if I'm not?" I hate that voice but for now I guess I'm going to keep going.

Ah Catch 22, how you stab at my heart.

So ok guys. Queen Vee is going to try to meet you. Just as soon as I return from a two week vacation halfway across the world. (And a much needed break from therapy.)

Promise.

And Scene.

All that optimism from a few days ago?
Half it.
That's about where I am today.
Due to insurance issues I had to take a break from therapy. A few days ago was my first time back in about a month. I was all ready to walk in there and talk about how good I felt and maybe end therapy while continuing the medication until summer. Instead she made me realize that just because I felt better in one respect doesn't mean I had it all figured out. I sort of knew that, but I thought I was more on the way to being able to handle it.
Guess not.
Tears yet again for reasons I could not place, aside from disappointment and the realization that I'm still putting myself under so much pressure one unexpected thing happens and I break.
Sigh.

Phase 5

What is it about time that allows it to speed by sometimes and drag on others? Different cultures perceive time in different ways, but the ones without time fascinate me. Like the Hopi. There is no past or future verb tenses. The closest they come is sooner and later. Imagine what life would be like without the constant cultural pressure to prepare for the future and remember the past because it makes you who you are. In some ways it sounds amazing. It would be so much easier to focus on what's happening now, living life as it happens, rather than suffering the past or worrying over the future. In other ways it seems sad, because memories are a big part of who we are and who hasn't dreamed about something fantastical happening to them in the future?

Time for me feels like it should be measured in phases:
0-6 phase 1: generally, oblivious bliss.
7-13 phase 2: learning the real differences between girls and boys and what's happening to my body?
14-17 phase 3: (for many) testing the boy/girl waters and figuring out who you are.
18-27 phase 4: thinking you know who you are, getting shredded and having to start over.
28-35 phase 5: realizing control is an illusion, a coping device for the human condition, and figuring out what to do next.
etc...

So by definition then I would be 5. That sounds about right. I've reached a point in my life where everything I used to think I would do when I grew up, I should have done by now. It is my experience that the two have not coincided. What I thought I'd be doing and what I am actually doing aren't the same. And for a good while there, it terrified me. It angered me. It depressed, confused and shattered me. And as you already know it sent me down a path of isolation, self-deprivation and sadness to a place where nothing seemed to make sense. Fortunately I finally recognized just how lost I felt and found another path to try to get me back.

To back up my age 5 theory, 3 of my friends in the past few months have told me how full of rage and often sadness they feel. Despite the 4 of us leading very different lives, I think they're experiencing the same thing. There's just a point where no matter how good or bad your life is going, unconsciously you realize it isn't what you had in mind and all you are left with is an acute discontentment you cannot place. Life is harder than that and even harder to accept that you didn't live it how you wanted to, or rather, it didn't turn out how you expected. It just sort of...happened. You end up feeling crazy because your emotions flick back and forth to the extremes and you don't know why. I know I sound like a ridiculous new ager, but it really is about accepting what you cannot control.

And that has been the biggest lesson I've learned. Just to make it clear, I've always known that I've needed to accept what I can't control, but a lot of people don't realize that no matter how your intellect sees it, your emotional self needs to see it too. Being that my intellectual and emotional selves have been separated for so long, it's no wonder why I couldn't actually feel the acceptance.

It has taken five months of therapy (and a little medication I will admit) to bring my two selves back together. That's not to say they're happily remarried and living in the country, it's just a start. I feel like my heart has finally caught up to my head in certain important respects which is what I guess I've been unconsciously fighting this whole time. I don't believe that it will never happen again, but I'm more aware now of how my mind works and that I do need to give myself time to accept things, trust things and believe in things again. I still have fears and other annoying insecurities which I still need to work through, and frankly I don't know if they will ever be resolved by my own doing, but I finally feel like I'm at least headed in the right direction. It's a relief.

Haven't ended therapy yet but I am considering it. I will try to write more about other things I worked through in sessions if you are interested. But as per usual with me it will take some time. Because we all know there's never enough of it!
Hope you are all doing well.
Maybe phase 6 will finally reconcile who/where I am with who/where I want to be. Time's a'wastin'!

The Catastrophist

Queen Virgin: The Catastrophist. It's my new sub title. You like?

It has been quite a windy road these past few weeks...months even. Therapy is going...well it's going. I don't have anything to compare it to so I'm not sure if it's great, so-so or completely unhelpful. I still cry during every session, most of the time for reasons I cannot place, but I'm not depressed. In the past around this time I've gone down, recovered somewhat for Christmas and the New Year but then fell right down again when the winter took its hold on me. I suppose because I am feeling mostly normal right now that it's a start in the right direction. One of change anyway.

K calls me a catastrophist. I'm always thinking about how things explode in the end before I even attempt to begin them. I've known that I do that concerning guys and dating, but I've recently realized that I do it almost across the board when dealing with emotional issues. I have the habit of downplaying things because I don't want them to blow up. That is to say, I never make a big deal out of anything, I lessen my importance in my friend's lives by clamming up and I run from any sort of disagreement. I didn't know how big a part of my life it played until my doctor said, "it sounds like you have a tendency to put your own feelings last". Like when I make plans for my birthday and go to a restaurant everyone can afford rather than the one I want to go to that's a little more because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Or not calling a friend when I really need to talk because I know they're busy and don't want to interrupt them. Or when I let people treat me badly because I don't want to say anything that would make them feel bad. Across the board.

So I don't make a big deal out of anything and I end up getting hurt because I don't let anyone know what's important to me...but, and here's the kicker, if I did let them know what was important to me and they disappointed me I would end up getting hurt. That is the latest gem I learned in session.

And really all this does is oil the self-loathing fire I had managed to get to low simmer.

At some point I felt the walls going up and the urge to just block everything out coming on strong again. Almost like I was holding the anchor of depression and I could just let it go and sink or I could tie it up. I decided to reach out to a friend who I've sort of been to hell and back with (who oddly enough is not K) because I know she of all my friends is the most like me and knows me about as well as I know myself. I told her how many times I wanted to call but didn't because I know she's busy, but admittedly more so because I couldn't take it if she answered and actually said she couldn't talk right at that moment. She could not grasp how that would be just as crushing to me as if something tragic happened and I called and she said she couldn't come. Though I am aware that not being able to talk on the phone and not physically coming to help a friend in dire need are at opposite ends of the spectrum, the emotional result for me would be the same. She kept saying there's no way in hell any of my friends wouldn't come if I called, and the chances of me needing someone like that are pretty low anyway, but I couldn't get her to understand my...my catastophist'y. I couldn't tell her how every time she rescheduled our dinner my heart sunk. A great example of a) not letting her know how important she is to me and b) putting my feelings last. I didn't want her to feel bad about hurting me, though she was completely unaware of it and had legitimate excuses to reschedule. See I know how irrational my emotions are so I bury them. I count only on myself and loathe any form of needing someone because needing someone ultimately leads to getting hurt.

Oh there is so much more, but I'm tired. Hopefully I'll have some more time to write soon-

So Many Things!

"Well, I'm finally a real New Yorker. I have a therapist now!"
-QV

This is pretty much how I told my friends about my latest venture into the mess of my mental health. Only one said outright she knew something wasn't quite right with me, but probably never said anything because, well, what can you say? Why are you acting weird, but not in a constant, definable way? They all understood though and gave me props for taking the steps to try to help myself. A few of them felt bad about not being able to help which made me feel good and bad at the same time- good because they care, bad because that was not my intent upon telling them. How could they help when I hid it all from them?

I still don't like therapy, but it's a little easier now that I've gotten a handle on myself and my emotions. I'm not quite sure the latter is a good thing because I need to remember how to be emotional without breaking down, but at the moment I'm not involved in anything really emotionally driven (outside of work which is causing me frustration) to test it. I still feel awkward at times because I don't know what to say and I don't want to repeat myself every session. It actually makes me laugh to think in literal terms about how I'm basically shelling out a ton of money to someone to listen to me talk about myself for 45 minutes.
It's weird.

I decided to start taking medication. It's been three weeks and I have to say I think it is working. My irritation level has decreased and I think that because I started feeling better before I started the meds it's done its job to keep me from falling back into a depression. My last wedding was last weekend and I still feel pretty good. After the previous three weddings I felt sad and down on myself. It was a destination wedding which lasted three days- I met a ton of new people and was stuck in the position where I had to be social with a ton of new people every night...and I actually enjoyed it. I had fun all three nights, days too! I'm finally feeling little bits of my old self coming back.

In other news my decision to get over myself and stop making excuses has lead me to take a baby step and sign up for a dating site. I'm a little worried about the fact that the first group of guys interested in me are all over 40. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I just have a lower number as my cutoff and it sort of strikes me as either careless or desperate. Don't start yelling, I'm still looking at their profiles and checking them out, I'm just saying. A lot of the older guys I used to work with had puppy dog eyes for me too. Odd.

I did get one email that just said 'sexy as hell'. I'm not being sarcastic when I say it was nice to read, especially because none of my pictures have any element of sexiness to them. My question to you guys is, should I respond to the nice emails I get if I have no intention of continuing emailing? I'd like to say thanks, but I'm afraid it will it send the wrong message if I'm not interested in them. What should I do?

One last note of thanks to all of you who sent good comments and thoughts my way and who are pulling for me. It means more than I can say.

xo
QV

But What If Drugs Cause Hugs?

“After ten years in therapy, my psychologist told me something very touching, he said, “no hablo ingles.””
Dennis Wolfberg

I have to wonder myself if it actually mattered who I first talked to when I finally worked up the courage to call for an appointment. Which by the way, I got as far as calling the number my insurance card said to call and then became paralyzed. It took me a week to make that call and I induced a reflux attack for nothing: the voice on the other end simply gave me my insurance information and told me to look up a doctor online. I was too overwhelmed to be angry that the stupid benefits book didn't just say that. K actually ended up making the call for me and the doctor called me back to make an appointment. I'm extremely lucky to have her.

After the fourth appointment I was much calmer though still anxious, and finally separated my feelings about therapy from my feelings about the therapist. My first appointment with the Psychiatrist went by and after speaking with her it became clear that I was uncomfortable with the Psychologist. I decided to stop seeing her and wait until I received the Psychiatrist's evaluation before finding another Psychologist.

Her recommendation is that it isn't urgent but I would benefit from medication. The decision is mine. I go back and forth daily.

I caught myself singing to myself the other day. In what feels like a past life it was a sign of a good mood and relative happiness. I tried to remember the last time I actually felt that way and was already two springs back before I kind of gave up. Even though I know what I'm feeling now is only a slight lightness of being after unloading years of packed in emotional turmoil, it's a wake up call to just how low I've been feeling and how very long!

I am amazed at how I couldn't see it until that moment.

This makes the case for getting on the happy train. My hate for big pharma and aversion to ingesting chemicals pulls the case back.

My next appointment is next friday. Where's my little black 8 ball?

The First Step...So I'm Told

Well...the inevitable finally happened I suppose. I had what I can only describe as an emotional meltdown and I'm now in therapy.

A couple of weeks ago I was visiting K, she just had her second baby, and we started to talk a little bit about how I was feeling. She works in the industry (so to speak) so she recognizes my depression before I even realize I'm in one, but this time she also introduced me to the word dysthymia. She explained to me what it was and it struck me as being true; Chronic mild depression with sleep disturbances and fatigue. That pretty much sums up my existence. I had myself convinced that because I was not unhappy, I was happy. (I'm sure I could just skim some old posts as proof.) She opened my eyes to the fact that they are not exact opposites. I still laughed and took pleasure in small things here and there, but most of the time I just felt blah. About everything. A switch went off, but I didn't really know it until my Psychologist asked what brought me to her. She kept asking what happened to make me call for help. I kept saying I don't know, I just knew I had to come, I've known for a long time and I just finally got up the courage. She said something specific happened to spark it all. Then suddenly that conversation came back to me and I remembered thinking that I had to get over myself and ask for help or I'd be depressed and alone for the rest of my life.

I realized that I needed to finally admit that my attempt to fix myself all these years was not working. Watching that tiny newborn asleep on my chest didn't exactly start the biological clock ticking, but it did get the desire for a shared life into the fire.

I have actually only had three sessions so far, but after the first two and before the third I was incredibly anxious, had stomach aches and couldn't sleep. I cried almost to the point of hyperventilation the first session, slightly less the second and kind of just quietly cried the third. I suppose that's progress. Most of the time I couldn't even tell you why I was crying, I just couldn't stop myself. (I've since come to the conclusion that I've been burying all my emotions for so long, now that I've opened the well it just keeps flowing.) I feel less anxious now, but I wonder if it'll come back before my next session. She actually recommended I see a psychiatrist for a consultation for medication after my second session because apparently most people feel relief after opening up. I bee-lined in the opposite direction. I am not thrilled with the idea of drugs but if the Psychiatrist also recommends it I won't fight it. At this point I might just do anything for a decent night of sleep.

I don't like it. Talking about myself (out loud to corporeal people, as opposed to you my dear readers). For many different reasons it makes me uncomfortable but K keeps telling me it's supposed to be hard. My therapist says the same thing, go figure. I knew it would be I just didn't realize how hard. Your own emotional health is a hard thing to be objective about. But in so many words, they both tell me that I'm doing well. Like a good friend K promises it will get better and I have no choice but to believe her. She has been on both sides of this therapy thing. I just hope it's relatively soon, I'm so emotionally exhausted right now I don't know which way is up.

Notes In Passing

Well, two weddings down, two to go. The first was full of family friends I've known forever so it was fun (though no prospectives) and the second was full of people I didn't know at all so I kind of sat alone at a table all night. Truth be told, the sexy little dress I was wearing required pasties and I FORGOT TO PUT THEM ON. So I really couldn't get up and dance, for modesty or class I don't know which. (Don't ask me how in the world I forgot something as important as that. I didn't even realize it until I was half way up the thruway!) I chatted with people don't get me wrong, it's not like I relegated myself to a corner refusing to look anyone in the eye. I'm not that bad. But it seemed everyone there knew and were friends with a lot of people, and there definitely weren't any single guys. I was just kind of the odd one out knowing only the bride and her family. Funny how things work like that sometimes. I lived with her for four years!

I have no new realizations about myself. The art class was a lot of fun but full of only females. The work was kind of intense so we didn't end up chatting a lot which in turn means I'll never see any of them again. I still haven't met up with the guy I'm interested in. My friend has to kind of set something up and she's in the midst of wedding planning so I can understand why my dating needs are not at the top of her list of priorities. I'm meeting with the friend of mine that lent me the book about the guy with overwhelming defense mechanisms so we can chat about it. She had to read it for school so I'm sure she'll help me understand some things or at the very least put them in perspective. I have to skim it again because since I've read it my brain has filled up and emptied twelve times with other things. I find my retention level decreases with each passing year.

Anyway, hope you all are enjoying the summer, if that is what season you are in :) or staying warm if it is winter.

I wonder what Lady Ga-Ga would think of me....

Brain on Fire

Luckily I've been so busy it hasn't dragged me down, but a lot has been going through my mind lately. It must be due to the book I'm ready about this 40 year old guy so isolated by his own defense mechanisms it took him almost 8 years of therapy to break out of them. I identify with a lot of his thought processes and it is freaking me out. Of course, he suffered abuse as a child and I did not - but that makes it even weirder. More on this when I finish the book.

Then I read an article about "the introvert". This article could have been written about me. The only difference between me and the woman in the article is I was not pathologically shy as a child (or have ever been divorced obviously).

"Matsuoka...is open to romantic relationships, but "whomever I'm with must know that at least one day a week I need to lock myself in my room and stick feathers on a sculpture," she warns."

My bff makes fun of me because I won't visit her on Sundays. Sundays are queenvee days. Lately it's actually been more than just Sundays because I have a lot of art/music projects going on and with being a slave to corporate America in order to live, there's never enough time. I have to have time away from work and people in order to clear my mind and create.

Anyway, it was nice to read something that validates instead of pities the way I live. Social interaction, though not hard for me, is a definite drain. I don't really enjoy being around a lot of people at once- I don't like having to make small talk which means I usually get pushed to the periphery for not participating which I also dislike. And it's not like I want the attention of the room either- there is a time and place for that. I'd just rather be with one or two friends chatting or doing whatever it is we do to entertain ourselves. I feel a little guilty because I told a lie to get out of a bachelorette party this weekend. It was after the shower which I did attend, but I knew I'd never last through an evening of bar hopping with girls I'd really just met. And I didn't want my friend to feel bad that I wasn't having fun so I came home. No harm, no foul and I got a little extra time for my latest art project.

Anyway, the weddings begin in two weeks. Come what may!

PS. There is someone I'm interested in, but until I see him again and find out if he might be interested in me mum's the word. I don't really know him (met him once and have heard things about him from mutual friends) but I can't stop thinking about him. It's making me feel like I'm 14 years old. Gaaah.

(In)Sane and Mortal

It's kind of funny how fleeting the feeling or mortality is. Every once in a while my body freezes up with the realization that an absurdly large amount of time has passed since I last thought about it, and yet it feels like only days. Which also means death has gotten that much closer without my knowing it...or changing the things I'd like to about my life. Then it passes and I'm lost in the oblivion of my daily routine again.

Unless I've taken a nose dive while frozen and ended up in a dark hole for months. But that hasn't happened in a while...

However I'm beginning to see how the definition of insanity attributed to Einstein, Rita Mae Brown and a Chinese proverb is suddenly applying to my life:

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

I get up, I go to work, I occasionally hang out with friends, I come home, I go to bed. And yet I expect to meet someone who will change my life. Granted I don't get up and think today's the day I might meet someone! I still think it will eventually happen. Maybe that only makes me half insane.

But you cannot discount the fact that there are people who end up meeting people who change their lives in the course of their daily routines. It happens. I still can't help wishing, after all these years and against all knowing better, it would happen to me. And like, today.

I signed up for an art class in an attempt to do something fun and try to meet new people. It starts in April. I used to make new friends so easily...I know it's the only way I'll ever meet anyone. I've just fallen into such a comfort zone with the friends I have. New ones take so much energy. And by energy I mean going out and making small talk and getting to know people in the most painfully slow manner. When did I become such a recluse? Oh right. I spose I've always been one to some extent it was just easier when I was trapped in certain learning institutions with others in the same situation as me.

Maybe I can blame alcohol. Maybe it would easier if I could just drink like the rest of the people in this culture. It's a cop out but hell, it's legitimate. It's an enormous pie piece in the chart of how people socialize in this city. I feel like I've been left off of invites because of it and I refuse to believe it's because of me. I don't make people feel bad about drinking or guilty because they are and I'm not. Whenever I am out at a bar I just quietly decline a drink for myself like it's no big deal. But in the end apparently it's enough to not want me around. Or at the very least forget that I'd like to be invited just to hang out. It sucks. But I'm getting whiney so I better stop.

So as you can see things haven't really changed, and I haven't written lately because of it. I'm hoping this art class at least gets me going in terms of leaving the apartment when I don't have to and maybe finding out about other things I can do around my neighborhood.

I have four weddings to attend this year. Have I mentioned that? The good news is only one of the brides is younger than me. I am taking part in two of them which is awesome because though I consider them both good friends, I did not expect them to ask me to participate. AND I found this sexy little dress to wear to hopefully more than one, if not only one of them.

So yay for good things! Fingers crossed I will stay on the high road and these weddings won't chill my mortality bones.