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Self reflection of someone struggling with thoughts. |
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Some time back, I came to a realization. My writing really sucks. I was gone from this place for a really long time because of this fact. However, I miss the cathartic power of writing. I thought a long time about a blog, but then remembered that there is no better place than here for this sort of thing, and beyond a blog, maybe I could force some crappy writing of static pieces from time to time. I'm counting on anonymity here. I used to be a little bit different person, sharing more of myself than I would have liked to the whole world. However, maybe this will be a little more censored version,though it's hard for the exercise to be cathartic if it does not contain enough of my personal thoughts. So, I'm praying "anonymous" is a word that still rings true here. |
| I get to work an hour and a half before everyone else every day. I own my own business, so I have a key. I do this because it gives me my own special time that is mine and nobody else's. For an hour and a half, no one (at least not typically) bothers me about anything. I do get a phone call from my wife or my mom from time to time, but mostly I get it to myself. This is the time of day when I can usually write in this journal, play my traveler guitar that I bring with me everywhere, or if I can get myself to do it, do some creative writing of some sort. I don't do that very often anymore. This time is really special to me. I think I would really be drifting about aimlessly without it. And, it sounds terrible, but I actually hide behind my computer screen when a customer walks up to the door during this time. I know that's how I make money, but I generally do not like to deal with customers in the morning, especially since they usually are just here to pick something up and expect me to load them up by myself. The hours are posted everywhere, and they are on the recording I have on my phones when they go unanswered. So many people would rather call back continuously every couple of minutes than to listen to the recording and learn what the hours are. People so often just do not make sense. I've gotten really soured on people over the years. I think it's resultant of owning/running a retail business. Most people I talk to who also have their own business say the same thing. I get tired of peoples' sense of entitlement and their ignorance in their unreasonable demands. They assume they have all the knowledge and therefore have reasonable demands. People just don't realize how foolish they seems when they get so demanding. If they really understood what was causing the problem they would be more understanding. The one that bothers me most is the one that happens on a constant basis. We do lots of ordering here. it is impossible for me to carry everything. That fact alone makes people gripe at me sometimes. Once again, they refuse to use decent logic and consider it for even a second. They could look around my store then think about everything they just looked at and realize how absurd it would be to expect me to have all of that stuff in stock. But, I think people in general are just too self absorbed to think outside themselves for very long. And, if their merchandise does not arrive when they think it should, they become very irate. When I explain that we told them typical wait times and that no times are guaranteed at the outset, they still angrily reply that they didn't believe us when they bought it. Their logic also escapes me to think that I could possibly gain anything from them not having their merchandise. Really, what would I benefit from refusing to give my customers what they purchased? Sometimes I just want to scream at them to just stop and think for one second. But, in retail, you can't raise your voice or lose your cool, even if someone is behaving like a complete imbecile screaming at you and making threats about reporting you to authorities, calling TV stations, etc. I have no control or ownership in the factories that are usually in Mexico. I have no control or ownership in the freight companies that ship the products, and I definitely do not control Customs at the border. Our extreme consumer and entitlement society has taught people to be jerks, and they often brag to friends about what jerks they have been and what they were able to get businesses to do for them. I didn't realize that is what I was going to be writing about when I started this entry. But, it was a nice venting. When I say that I hate people. This is partly what I mean. I hate people in groups and I can not stand ignorant people that lose their temper unreasonably. I have less patience than I used to. I mostly try to avoid people these days and let the store manager I've hired deal with them. he seems to have more patience than I do. I don't even like to do the selling anymore. |
| I had a day-long individual painting class yesterday with Jerry Yarnell, the guy who does TV shows about how to paint on PBS. It was truly a lot of fun! He was a great, down to earth, sort of person. Very cool. He was very patient with me. I learned a ton from him on how to paint. I don't ever expect to be some sort of great artist that can sell his work. I jut want to get to a point where I wouldn't feel completely embarrassed to hang something on my own wall. Actually, Jerry gave me a 6 out of ten in ability to paint, which isn't bad considering I've only been trying for about a year or so. Never did any other sort of artwork in my life (save writing, and a little bit of 3D graphics). He really wants me to come back and learn some more. I am privileged to have such a person (relatively speaking) so nearby. The private lesson was expensive, but maybe a workshop or two is in my future. Painting is like writing. Such a cathartic experience. What I like about it though is the speed at which a person sees accomplishment. I can see a lot more of a painting in a couple of hours than I can see in a writing, and I suck at writing anyway. I suck at painting too, but I see results much more quickly. And, it's really cool to see something come out of nothing on a blank canvass. Suddenly there's a picture there. Sometimes it looks like magic. It's another tool to deal with depression. The problem is, like everything else. Depression is a will-killer. it's very difficult to have the will to do anything. Everything seems like such an enormous task, right down to the most absurd things, like clearing off my desk at work. You would think it wouldn't be any big deal to remove items from my desk I no longer need, but it seems like such a monumental task. So, too, with painting. Even though it's such a cathartic activity, the will to do it can, on accession, seem non-existent. |
| I can only imagine what this journal would like to someone reading it that doesn't know me (which would include everyone) or someone unfamiliar with bipolar depression. It is a see-saw of emotions, or perhaps better described as a roller coaster. I wrote just recently of the relief I had. Then, I had a short spell of very mild mania. Now, it's back to things as usual. What a lot of people don't understand about clinical depression is that it also causes actually physical pain. When someone hears of another person being depressed and in pain, they typically think it means in mental anguish. It does, but it also manifests in physical form. Right now, my body is wracked in a dull ache. Some of this is cause by a pinched nerve, but it is also coming from the depression. It also doesn't help to have muscle spasms. Most of my family and none of my friends have any idea I carry this affliction. I've become very adept at hiding it. They might be able to tell I'm suffering from some physical pain, but the mental pain no one can see. I should not be ashamed of it, because I wouldn't be ashamed of some other sort of illness, but I am. You get that bipolar label out there, even though it isn't truly descriptive of understanding what's involved, and suddenly;y you have the crazy label that comes with it. Nobody wants that. Especially since every sort of mental illness or instability gets the "bipolar" label these days. It's used the same way "schizophrenia" used to be. And, it's usually tossed around flippantly in casual conversation, like someone of my generation might say "nuts". For now, it feels much more comfortable to keep things to myself, save a very small select few people. I have a nephew who majored in psychology that sometimes wants to describe symptoms of bipolar to me, and I know it seems strange to him how familiar with it I already am. He doesn't need to know. I need to remain the uncle he thinks I am. |
| There is no describing what normal feels like after a life mostly filled with intense anxiety. Imagine spending your life sitting on a bomb that can explode at any time. That's how I feel most of the time. For weeks. Then, I will get a morning like this morning. Normal. Absolute relief. It feels like such peace and calm. I don't know how else to treat but as a true gift from God. I will enjoy every moment of it, because it will not last long. |
| It's so difficult when parents begin that portion of their lives where their aging really begins to show. I've been dealing with my dad's development of dementia for the past couple of years now. He and I used to really go at it sometimes. He used to do a lot of yelling at me and berating me, making me feel sometimes worthless and stupid. I think it was his strange way of trying to motivate me. Now, he depends on me in a lot of ways, and oddly, I'm really the only person he truly listens too. I was embittered for so many years, but that bitterness has faded away to remembering all the really great things my dad has done for me. And, he has done a lot. For all the strife, he has also been a very positive influence on me. So, now I try and take care of him out of respect for him taking care of me. He isn't, by any means, completely unable to take care of himself. He just has a touch of dementia. he still drives and gets around fine. He just needs lots of help remembering things and with some decision-making. For the brilliant man he has always been, his decision making is not very good anymore. Yesterday, we had to rush my mom to the hospital because her blood pressure was double what it normally is. This is mostly due to the stress of dealing with my dad. He is a very proud man and wants to make some decisions that assume his complete faculty and assume that he will live forever. He forgets the conversations they have and she has to rehash them nearly every day. So now, I'm wondering how to help them both. I can't bear the thought of losing either one of them, and without my mom to help regulate my dad, he would be truly lost. He doesn't think he has a problem. That's both good and bad. I am glad he doesn't feel the embarrassment he might feel if he understood how obvious it is to everyone, but it also makes things more difficult in him believing he is capable of anything. When the roles begin to reverse, it really sucks. There's a realization that the rocks in your life you assumed would always be there, are not. |
| This morning wasn't a horrible drive to work. It wasn't great. There was definitely plenty of traffic, but it wasn't as bad as many mornings. Years ago, I developed a real phobia of crowds in particular. I've always hated them, but it turned into something beyond that several years ago. My level of anxiety skyrockets around large groups of people. I find myself trying to force myself to like everything other people don't just so I can avoid going to crowded places. If I'm going to the movies and I can't sit in a seat on the aisle, I simply leave. I can't do it. And, I quit going to concerts a long time ago. All of this is fine and workable, but I find myself getting angrier all the time about large groups of people. I find myself saying "I hate people!" What I mean when I say that is that I don't necessarily despise people as individuals but rather as groups. For some reason when people get together in large groups, they begin to behave on a very basic animalistic level. They become totally self-focused and behave in such a manner that you would expect from a cornered animal. People in large groups lose some portion of their humanity. As the city in which I live continues to grow (and these days it's growing a lot), I find myself fleeing away. My wife and I bought an acreage outside of town just for this purpose. We are eventually going to build there. I can;t be soon enough for me, but there are some budgeting problems at this point, and we would rather build what we want than to settle for something we don't like. it just means we have to wait a little while. It means I will be commuting 45 minutes to an hour every day, rather than about 15 to 30 minutes right now, but well worth it to me to get away from people. I really don't know if all of this is just a symptom of bipolar or if it's an issue unto itself. Right now, I suppose it isn't enough of an issue to warrant help, but it certainly could be at some point. |
| It was not my intention to have myself sound like a whiney complaining nuisance while writing in this journal. But, this journal is my solace. It's my place for therapy. So, it's a skewed representation of who I am. That being said, I'll mention my angst. For some reason, anxiety nearly always goes hand-in-hand with depression. At least that's what I've been told, and that is my experience. It truly sucks. This is some of the more harsh anxiety I have felt in a while. Fortunately, the depression is starting to wane, but this anxiety is crushing! The way I feel inside is like a movie character that is attempting to portray anxiety by shaking uncontrollably and normally babbling like an idiot. I feel that way inside, but I project something else to the outside. I have had a lifetime to perfect the hiding of what I experience inside. I have an herbal remedy that I use (no it is not that herbal remedy. it is not pot.) I make use of several herbs in a tea that seems to be effective, but I have no way of making the tea at work. Usually I use a mixture of lemon balm, passion flower, lavender, ginger, and occasionally hops. The hops is very bitter, so I only use it if I feel up to it. I'll usually add a couple of other things that taste good for flavor too. It also does wonders for making me sleepy. If I use it for my wife, she knocks out just like she had a valium. The good thing about this enormous anxiety is that it has sometimes signaled the end of depression and the beginning of a week or so of feeling absolutely normal. And, I cannot begin to describe how great that feels. Other people take it for granted, because they have nothing to compare it against. It's like a huge pain suddenly lifted. Oh, to feel normal! |
| Just a quick rant. The vast majority of people have no idea just how many taxes people pay hen owning a business. Mine is a small one, and I can not imagine what the larger companies must face. Here's a list: Personal state income tax Personal federal income tax Corporate state income tax Corporate federal income tax State withholding Federal Withholding Property Tax Unemployment (they call it insurance but it's still a tax) Then, there is also the pass through taxes that I collect and then pass to the government, such as part of withholding and sales taxes. While I don't have to come up with the money to pay these taxes, I still have to collect them and keep records and track of them, all for no fees. I am a free employee of both the state and the US government. That's 8 different taxes I have to pay for the privilege of providing employment to others. Sorry if I offend anyone with these comments, but this just sucks. I've been doing this now for over 11 years and it still just burns my insides every year. Yet, there are still more and more calls to hit businesses with more and more burdens. |
| I thought of a lot of things I could have written about this morning, but I'll have to save them for another time. I've been wondering more about why I've saddening come back to Writing.com after so long. As I've already mentioned, I miss the ability to cleanse my soul by writing intimate thoughts I don't share in other ways. I miss the ability to open up and think out loud. I had also forgotten how much I appreciate this community of writers. I may have long ago decided I am a poor writer, but others have been trying to convince me otherwise. I think that perhaps I just don't know what good writing is. I still think I am a poor writer, but maybe I can at some point enjoy some creative writing once again. For now, I am enjoying doing some reviewing. I did a poor job of that here in the past, receiving much more reviews myself than what I was giving out. I always felt guilty about that. Now, however, I find myself wanting to review much more than I want to write. That's a very good thing, I think. Less selfish. I still have difficulty finding the time to read longer pieces. I doubt I will ever do much reviewing of novels or even longer short stories. I don't feel qualified anyway. I've never been much of a reader of such things. I am a slow reader and don't hold enough patience. But, the shorter times are actually fun for me. |
| When I first began seeking help for my depression, I first sought the council of two different psychologists. The first was from my church. His answer for me was something along the lines of because he believed I had never had any real struggles in my life (he assumed this because he believed my family to be wealthy) that I just had not learned to cope with things. Very insulting considering I honestly have lived at all spectrums of the economics scale , at least for Americans. His comments hurt, and they were out of ignorance. Not all psychologists are knowledgeable of chronic depression. The other psychologist I saw gave me two cures for depression. the first was to just trudge along through it and force myself to act happily, and would therefore eventually become happy. I understood the strategy but if I could do that, I wouldn't be seeking help. His other idea was to simply list everything that's good in my life and focus on that. I had already told him I was well aware of these things but the depression was independent of it. It doesn't matter what's going on in my life. Good or bad, the depression is not related. I found both of these strategies insulting and as if he wasn't listening to me. I was completely lost and highly suicidal until I finally received some medications from a psychiatrist. The psychologists were all but worthless in their aid. The depression never goes completely away, but it has become livable and manageable. That has been beyond miraculous for me. Aside from meds, there are two things which I have found to be the best for a fight against depression, and I wish psychologists would be perceptive of them. The first is to get outside and do some things. I know exercise is always advised, but there is something about doing yard work or some other physical labor outdoors. It just makes me feel so much better. I've even skipped work before to do it (I work for myself so I can do this from time to time). The other good medicine is to help someone in any way, small or large. This is the best medicine there is. Doing things for other people seems to lift depression for me better than anything else. I should focus more on this and in fact am planning on giving someone something they can not afford but need, later today. It doesn't have to be giving anything though. It can be also giving of time. It can be acknowledging someone who is normally almost invisible. It can be doing something nice for someone that they weren't expecting. As little as giving an extra couple of dollars to a waiter can even be a day changer. I once gave a $5 tip on a bill that was about $11. That's a high tip for the bill, but really. That is not a huge expenditure. It made the waitress giddy. Simple, and a realy depression helper. |
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