xnera: Icon captioned "a woman bracing herself." (bracing)
Or a listy, for that matter.

Things to do:

  1. Clean the house.
  2. Throw out garbage.
  3. Wash laundry.
  4. Wash dishes.
  5. Knit stuff.
  6. Crochet stuff.
  7. Write a post.
  8. Go through your clothes.
  9. Balance your budget.
  10. Pet the cat.
  11. Read a book.
  12. Watch a movie/tv show/anime.
  13. Play a video game.
  14. Listen to some music.
  15. Bake something.
  16. Get some coffee.
  17. Take a walk.
  18. Color!
  19. Get the mail.
  20. Listen to voicemail.
  21. Upload photos.
  22. Cry.
  23. Go grocery shopping.
  24. Make a scrapbook.
  25. Dance.
  26. Redecorate.
  27. Paint.
  28. Go downtown.
  29. Go to a museum.
  30. Learn Japanese.
  31. Play music.
  32. Stand up.
  33. Look at pictures of butterflies.
  34. Write an email.
  35. Do puzzles.
  36. Figure things out.
  37. Come up with other ideas for this list.
  38. DON'T. GIVE. IN.
xnera: Icon captioned "I'm tougher than you think." (No power in the 'verse can stop me.)
I needs it. Mental illness is flaring up and I've been having a devil of a time getting things done. So I am behind on work. Which I need to catch up on today. Except that I am anxious about it for a whole slew of reasons, which means it's really frakking hard to get started.

I'm getting started, though. Go me! But yeah, could use people checking in on me to see how it's going.

Cute and/or funny stuff would be appreciated as well. <3

edit: Cryptic listy of things that need doing:

1) Fifteen
2) Word
3) Boxes
4) Timesheet
5) Checklists
xnera: Icon captioned "I think we need counselling." (I think we need counseling.)
1) I have things I want to write about. Really difficult things. It's slow going, and I haven't looked at it in several days. A bit depressed as a result. Both because of the lack of writing, and because the subject matter is depressing and rage-inducing.

2) Also depressed because I've been sick. Mild sore throat, mild nausea, mild headache. Enough to make me want to sit around and do nothing. Or spend the day sleeping (which I did the past two days).

3) Which means I haven't been getting anything done at work this week. Which makes me depressed.

4) I could also possibly be depressed because I changed a medication recently. I finally got fed up with the hyperhidrosis so I complained about it. Got weaned off Cymbalta, and weaned on Sertraline. Too early to tell how it's working.

5) And actually, I could be sick due to side effects of the Sertraline and not because of a bug or anything. Hmm.

6) Either way, this all adds up to feeling depressed somewhat.

7) And one of the things I sometimes do when I am depressed is stay up way longer than I should, even though my body is crying out for sleep.

8) Which is why I am currently awake at one A.M. Yes, I am going to bed after I post this.

(this is just venting.)

My beloved [livejournal.com profile] vaginapagina is hoping to put together a disability 101" post/resource. This is just another reason why VP rocks. I pimped the Spoon Theory (link goes to a PDF), and I am pleased to see that they put as their first link under "Framework for Understanding Disability: Medical & Social Models". \o/ I highly, highly recommend reading it, if you haven't done so already; it explains very well what life with a disability is like, via an awesome, easy-to-understand metaphor.

While looking for links and/or reading my flist, I happened to stumble across FWD - feminists with disabilities. It is my new favorite blog. <3 Their Ableist Word Profile series is rather awesome. I see less people using retarded as a slur these days, but lame still is common (and I've been guilty of this myself. Stuff to think about.

While catching up on my Dreamwidth rlist (I am soooo far behind) I stumbled across a link to an USA Today article about a wheelchair user on "Glee" who was played by an able-bodied actor. Grrr. The title of the article makes me >_< ("'Glee' wheelchair episode hits bump with disabled"). But then I saw the caption on the picture, and oh HELL no. Currently it says "Actor Kevin McHale, who is not disabled, plays a wheelchair-bound student on Glee." (emphasis mine) I wrote them an email complaining about the wording. I'm hoping they'll fix it. (For those who might be going "bwuh?", the proper phrasing would be "a student who uses a wheelchair".)

Also, here is a post about Daleks, Davros, and Disability. I haven't read the entire article because I am planning on watching classic Doctor Who soon and I'm a total spoiler-phobe. But I wanted to link anyway, in hopes of remembering to read it later after I've watched the episodes in question.

And with that, I am going to bed.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Flowers)
Excitement and fear, hope and worry, answers and questions, all tossed in a blender and pure├Ęd == eyes springing open with a BOING! sound when a tired xnera lays down to sleep.

It all started a week ago Friday when I finally went back to therapy. I woke up that morning feeling good. Because I had something to do that day. Because I was taking care of my self. Because I was finally taking some baby steps. Hope returned.

That evening I went to a meeting of the local camera club. The members were warm and welcoming, and I saw so many beautiful pictures. My heart cried out with joy. This is where I belong, surrounded by these creative people who can see beauty in the ordinary, who tell stories with camera, film and light. I went home that night exhausted and energized, ready to be creative myself, and ready to find other sources of creativity.

The surge of positiveness carried through the weekend. Monday came, and suddenly I was sending out resumes and applying to jobs. I did my taxes and sent them in, so that I would get a refund quickly and wouldn't have to rely on my parents for money so much. I was doing good. I was on a roll.

But then came Valentine's day.

It had been on my mind for a while. How could it not? I had met my boyfriend on Valentine's 2002, when I decided to go out with friends instead of sitting home alone moping. The start of our relationship was rooted in the romantic, a perfect story to tell the grandchildren sometime. So as Valentine's 2003 loomed near, I began to feel the pressure of our relationship and what exactly it meant. And I couldn't figure it out. I wish I knew exactly where we were headed, if we were really meant to be. I wish I could tell him I loved him and I'd be his forever. It would make such a good story, and I do love my fairytales.

But I could not. I'm still confused about this crazy little thing called love, what it is, what it entails, what it means. I could not bring myself to say the words, knowing that they might not be true. We had a nice Valentine's day. He made London broil and lit the fire, and I dressed up nice. It was comfy and cozy and yes, a bit romantic. It was what I needed it to be. It just wasn't what I wished it could be.

So the doubts started creeping back in. Doubts about my relationship, about who I am and where I'm headed in life, and it was in this sad state of mind when I realized late Saturday night that Sunday would be the four month anniversary of my firing from my job. Four months of unemployment, with only two months of benefits left.

I plummented. I had scary thoughts of giving up and giving in. It was a long, long night, but I survived, which sometimes is all I can do.

For most of Sunday I was quiet and withdrawn, worried, plagued with doubts about everything in my life. But I managed to play LOTR Risk with Roger, even laughing a bit in the process. And then we sat down on the couch to play some Buffy and some Munch, and we leaned on each others' shoulders as we passed the controller back and forth when our characters died, and I was reminded of just how comfortable I am around him and how much I simply enjoy his company.

Sunday evening I opened up and we had a long talk about various things. It was good.

Things are starting to look up. I had a phone interview this morning for a very promising position that would pay the same as my old job, but would have flexible hours and more opportunities to be creative. I'm really excited about the position, but there's also fear. What if I can't handle all the phone work it requires? What if I miscalculate the traveling time requirements and am late to an appointment? I am worried, but I am sure a little worry is normal. Right now my job is to complete the video presentation and get it in the mail by Friday. That's what I need to focus on.

This evening I received an email from an author whose work I highly admire and whose bullentin board I frequent regularly, inviting me to participate in a private listserv she's setting up. I'm honored and thrilled at the invitation, and looking forward to interacting with the list members.

So yes, things have been looking up. But the worry and doubt are still there, looming large enough to keep me awake at night when I should be sleeping soundly. I'm excited about the future, but I wonder if I will ever be worry-free.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
Oh my God, it's early.

The past few days I've found myself getting incredibly sleepy in the afternoon. I've let myself go ahead and take a nap. Four hours on Tuesday, three hours yesterday. Apparently I had a bit too much sleep, because here it is, a quarter to seven in the morning, and I've been up since four a.m.

Thing is, I'm tired. I feel like I could use some sleep. But everytime I lie down, I just can't. Can't get comfy, can't shut the mind up, can't thik of pleasant nothingness to drown out the worries of the day. It's only when I'm not trying to sleep (naps during the day) that I instantly drift off.

Am tempted to drive up to Roger's and try sleeping there, but I promised myself I wouldn't go up to his place today until the mail came.

Oh well, might as well do some housework.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
I am behind on my mortgage payment because I have no money in my bank accounts.

I have an unemployment check that needs depositing. It is in the amount of the mortgage payment, plus ten dollars. Another unemployment check will not come for two weeks.

I'm stressed. I cannot sleep in my bed. For the past week I have only found rest on the couch, finally drifting off at three in the morning. I have panic attacks hourly. I try to combat them by watching episodes of Firefly slowly download on WinMX.

I know I should probably ask my parents for some money, but I have already borrowed a thousand dollars from them, and do not wish to ask for more. But I see no other choice.

I am mad at myself for letting depression and fear keep me from applying for jobs. I know I should not be choosy. I know I should just take any old job to pay the bills. But I am scared that I will get trapped in another five years of meaningless work, which will just make me depressed anyhow.

I keep hoping for a miracle, a revelation, an epiphany, a quick answer. Something that will light me with fire, that will get my butt in gear, that will make my dreams come true. I am losing hope that I will ever find the spark.

xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
Burns Depression Checklist Score: 21 (Moderate Depression)

When you're depressed, you often have problems making decisions.

In a few hours, a group of friends from several states are gathering together to watch The Two Towers together.

In a few hours, my newphew's third birthday party will be starting.

Which to attend? I struggled with this decision for days. Being unemployed means I've lost the social interaction of the workplace. These days, the only person I see socially is my boyfriend. It would be good to go to the LOTR party, meet some new people, have some fun. Additionally, since they don't know me well, there would be no constant questioning about the job search. I could relax, be myself, and not worry about things for a few hours.

But then there's my nephew, who loves me unconditionally (which still amazes me). How could I miss his party? But going to his party meant facing my family. Whether they know it or not, they're a constant reminder of my unmarried, jobless state. It makes me feel uneasy, and stressed, and a bit small.

It'd be so easy to go to the movie so I could have some fun, but deep down I know it'd be running away. I've been doing that too much these days. It's time I start facing up to my fears. So I've decided that even though it's the harder thing to do, I'm going to my nephew's party. And if they ask how the job search's going, I'll smile and say, "Not bad, but I'd love to hear any ideas or suggestions you might have." I WILL get through this--this whole depression thing.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
Who is this girl I see?
Staring straight back at me..
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?

--"Reflection", from Mulan

Burns Depression Checklist Score: 31 (Severe depression)

Severe. What a scary word.

In my stumblings with unemployment I decided to read up on my Myers-Briggs type (I'm an INFP) again in search for some answers. Let me quote from one INFP profile:

As with all NFs, the INFP will feel lost and perplexed at stressful times. As stress builds, INFPs become disconnected from their own personality and perceived place in life. They will lose sight of who they are in relation to time and place.

That's me in a nutshell. I can see the people around me, who they are, where they're headed, but when I try to look at myself I see... nothing. Blankness. And that frightens me.

I find myself searching for an indentity--a label, even. When I was working, I may not have liked my job, but I knew who I was. I was a computer scientist, an IT specialist, with a secret identity as a writer. You'd think that since I lost the computer geek label, that my secret identity would come to the forefront, but no. Instead I feel like I've lost that identity. I'm unsure if I was ever meant to be a writer.

So without the security blanket of my long-standing dream of writing, I look for other labels. I am unnerved by how much I've been thinking about engagement lately. I know I crave it because it would give me an identity. I would be a fiancee, soon to be a Mrs. Oh, how wonderful that would be!

But no. I know it's not what I really want. Or rather, my reasons for wanting it are not right. All I really want right now is a true identity. I want to be sure of myself, to be able to say "This is me--this is who I am!" without any doubt or fear or hesitation. I just want to know who I am. And then perhaps I can find a job.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
It is Christmas Eve, and I should be home cleaning the house or making cookies or petting my cat, but instead I am at my boyfriend's house (even though he is in Vegas right now) where it is clean and spacious and empty in a way that's different from home. Here I feel almost normal, and a little bit stronger.

What is it about the holidays? Every year I throw myself into them, decorating the house, shopping for presents, singing songs of the seasons, and making a truckload of cookies. And every year I inevitably become depressed. I try to make the season magical and special for all, and I fail.

Why do I feel the need to please others so much? To be accepted, to fit in? This year I've been busy hand-sewing presents for others, while my own tree goes sadly lacking decoration. Why do I need to put others before myself?

I just have so many questions these days.

*sigh* I'd better go home.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
Am depressed. This happens when you've been fired and you're afraid to take another job.

Thought I would do a good thing and reach out to others by leaving comments in their livejournals.

The commenting system is down.


Think I will go use my free rental at Hollywood and see if they have the Extended version. Haven't seen it yet. Maybe I'll get some popcorn, too.

If you want to chat, send me some email or AIM me. I'll be around. I always am these days.


Dec. 4th, 2002 02:47 pm
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
I went into NaNoWriMo with hope and big dreams. Finally, I was going to write a novel! And it would be good. Good enough to revise and submit. Good enough to get published. Good enough that Cassandra Claire would write fan fiction for it.

The last week of October was spent gearing up for the challenge. I read the NaNo boards daily -- hourly, even. I bought two writing books: I'd Rather Be Writing for inspiration, and The Marshall Plan Workbook for plot development. I turned old story ideas over in my mind, but decided to start from scratch, with a story idea that came from a random title generator. "The Emerald of the Healer" brought to mind a fantastical adventure of a knight sworn to protect a powerful jewel, but who fails in his duty when the emerald is stolen by a common pickpocket.

I spent the first two weeks of November rehasing the plot. Who was this girl, this pickpocket? What did she want, where was she headed, why did she do the things she did? And how did the story end? I couldn't see the answers. And, not seeing the full picture, I was unable to begin.

All through Novemeber I thought, developed, and wondered -- and wrote not a single word on the story.

NaNoWriMo taught me that I am still afraid of writing stories. I am still afraid of taking a chance when I can't see the consequences.

I've been wondering lately if art must always reflect life. I'm currently unemployed and confused. I don't know what I want to do, what kind of job I want, where I should go. And, confused, I find myself unable to move forward. I have not submitted resumes or gone on interviews or even found an opening that's interested me.

My story is suffering from writer's block.
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
I've just been fired.


Oct. 11th, 2002 03:45 pm
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
Colleen is singing to me.

She is singing a song of longing, of woulda-shoulda-coulda beens, of what life would be like if the world was perfect. The melody is familiar: it may not be original. I strain my ears, but can only hear half the words, because it is a song that can never be.

Tomorrow morning my mom will come over and we will work on our resumes. I for a job I do not want, doing the same work I'm doing now; she for the job she's held for the past ten years.

I am weary. I keep making mistake after mistake until I am not sure if there is such a thing as the right thing to do. Maybe there's only whatever is done. Whatever will be, will be.

I do not think they know how I am hurting. I must be allowed to talk. I must allow myself to speak.


Oct. 9th, 2002 04:15 pm
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
So if you haven't figured it out already, yesterday I was in The Dark Place. Survived by burying my face in Raina's fur, which means I have been sneezing non-stop today. Snot tastes so lovely... NOT! But there's a nice drawback to the misery of the allergies: it makes me feel alive and normal, which I so sorely needed today.

Also quite glad I have a session with my therapist tonight. Perfect timing, that.

TsuKata: have fun tonight! I know you will, 'cause you're evil. *grin* SEND ME DETAILS!

Only forty more minutes and then I get to go home, yay!
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
I'm sufferring from post-Ethernet upgrade depression.

Like all slash relationships, the branch merger/Ethernet upgrade was filled with hardship and angst. The hardship would be the long hours of overtime spent trying to converse with three people at once. By the end of the weekend I wanted to tell everyone else to leave; I'd finish the damn upgrade on my own. I felt like everyone was demanding things of me. Which they were.

Unfortunately this feeling has melted over into my personal life. I've been wondering the past few days where others end and I begin. Do I really know who I am apart from my friends and family, or am I defined by them? No wonder I've been such a crab.

This is why I really appreciate one of TsuKata's birthday gifts to me. It's a book called Kokology, subtitled "the game of self-discovery". I could use some self-discovery right now.

Anyway... please bear with me for the next week or so. It'll take a while before I get my seats and tray tables back in their full, upright position. And Roger, honey... I meant what I said the other night. I'm scared and confused and I don't know what I want these days, but I'm not going to let my fears chase me away this time.

Okay. Bedtime. Sleep is good.


Oct. 1st, 2002 04:21 pm
xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)
I'm so tired. I don't want to do anything. Just want to sit and t00b around on the Internet, then go home and eat Boston Market green beans. Watch Buffy. Pet Raina. Sleep. Wah, wah, waaaaaaaaah!

*pause* Crap. Just remembered I forgot to take the Prozac this morning.

I'm starting to become comfy with the idea that the Prozac is not a temporary measure. Still hoping I can someday do without it, though. Maybe if I eat more green beans...


xnera: Photo of my cat sniffing a vase of roses  (Default)

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