Life as an Extreme Sport

Category: life and living

Not so much the daily grind, as the things that fall outside the scope of academics.

under a bus

...and everything else, blog as therapy, Duct Tape and Prayers, life and living

There’s been a lot of language about not throwing people under buses, and being careful in action. I learned today just how one way that expectation can really be. While I’m trying not to be pissed off, I’m furious. I’m livid, to be honest – madder than I have been in a long time.

I spent a long time talking to someone who’s found the most adorable animated bear for “giving hugs” online, and we talked about how similar we are in hating large gestures and big compliments. I realized, when talking to him, that the big gestures are almost offensive because they seem to imply there’s something special about just doing my job. And I am many things, but I am not lazy, and I have a strong and fiercely determined work ethic – once I become involved in a project, especially emotionally, or if I at all begin to view it as mine, I will work my ass off to make it the best thing possible. Because that’s what you do – that’s what it means to have a work ethic.

I hate giant expressions of gratitude for doing, what at the very basis, is simply doing my job. S~ has compensated for this by saying things like “I know you hate compliments, but you’re the [fill in the blank].” It’s humorous and gets the point across.

But when we were talking today, we realized we’re the same in that for us, expressions of gratitude are the small things – as are expressions of empathy, friendship, etc. It’s the picking up of a latte when at Starbucks, because you know it’s what the person would want or because you’re just thinking about them. It’s about giving rides to the airport, or picking someone up. It’s insisting on taking someone out to dinner as a thank you for a specific project, or a birthday. It’s leaving a bottle of wine as a gift, unsaid, because you think it will be enjoyed.

These small things for me are the things that say “I appreciate you.” I know I’m needed – it’s not arrogance, it’s simply knowing I’m good at what I do, and that I pour my heart and soul into it, because if I’m going to do something, I’m going to be excellent at it. That’s just how I am. For me, what matters is those small gestures of appreciation and shared time. Of, for example, S~ spending the hour talking to me he didn’t really have, this afternoon, when he realized how upset I was, because he knew I was upset and that talking was just the thing that was important.

Maybe that’s it, too – about prioritizing importance. You can tell me something as much as you want, but if your action doesn’t match your words…

I don’t know. I’m tired, I’m angry, I can’t lift something as simple as an empty suitcase to pack, and didn’t have a chance to FedEx the boxes of packages – which means I do it in the morning and risk losing the important parking spot, or just figure out how to get it on the plane with me. I don’t know. I’m overwhelmed, because I had the rug pulled out from under me, and was unable to complete several long lists of things I had made and needed to do prior to leaving.

Maybe in three days I’ll laugh about this. I can only hope.

Sally’s Song

...and everything else, Duct Tape and Prayers, life and living

I have a problem. I’m being treated for it – for at least the chemical symptoms, I’m on antidepressants, which is a good thing, since it addresses the problem with my arm, as well as that other problem. The one about not handling my mother dying at all well, or with anything approaching grace or dignity or serenity or any of the things I should be.

But I can’t motivate myself to do much of anything, other than lay in bed. I realize this is exacerbated by just finishing ASBH, and being tired from that, but I have spent the last two days alternating between sleeping and crying until I decide that’s enough and sedate myself to stop crying, which often leads to falling back asleep. I’m slipping further and further behind on schoolwork, and the fact that my stomach has once again refused to keep anything down the last 12-odd hours isn’t helping. (No pain control, no sedatives, no nothing but me, raw thoughts, raw pain.)

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get around this. The prescribed antidepressants don’t appear to be doing anything – I haven’t seen a difference, anyhow, or felt one. I’m not sleeping more, if anything I’m sleeping less. The pain is ratcheting up and out of control, and I know that’s because it’s connected to dopamine and serotonin levels in my brain, which are obviously bottoming out.

I’ve mentioned this to the university adviser, who’s told me that maybe it’s time to just stop, step back, and take care of myself. I haven’t mentioned it to the other adviser, because I haven’t been able to get a meeting. I’m sure I could if I made it dramatic, if I said I think I’m starting to fall apart at my seams, but that feels disingenuous, even if it might be true.

It could be weeks, it could be months – hospice hasn’t told my family to start preparing, so there’s some time. But every morning I wake up thinking I don’t belong here right now, I belong there. Every day is a day wasted, a day I could be spending the precious little time left with my mother. My career is safe, my job can be done anywhere – as evidenced by the fact I do it from home more often than not. School will wait, but Mom won’t. Mom can’t.

I don’t even know where to begin. I’m so stuck, so behind, and the person I should be telling this to, who should be helping me figure this all out, just isn’t available. Not without some grand statements and gestures on my part, and that just makes it feel so false.

For whatever illogical, fuzzy reasons, right now I think I need truth more than anything else. I don’t need false pity or socially expected responses, I need truth. The truth of spending time, or listening, of caring. I need a truth that feels so fake when it is only given when demanded.

and i should edit this to note that so far, the last batch of meds have taken hold, so i will probably regret this when sober…