Two Steps Back

Straight back in to mental instability with no way through it except through it.  I was so insecure yesterday, so full of self-recrimination, so sensitive to everything, so totally pessimistic and homesick.  Feelings ranged from afraid to suicidal to ashamed to angry.  By the time I got home all I really wanted to do was zone out with a big, cold beer.  Ran errands and washed the car and walked Faith, instead.  Did sort of half-heartedly crack open a big beer last night and drank part of it but didn’t enjoy it.  Didn’t want to enjoy it because I so, so hate how drinking made me feel last Summer.  Poured the rest of it out.  Slept in, this morning.  Taking a Neurontin before work today.  Hope that helps.  More later, if I can find the time.

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Lunar Landing

My first day at my new job was OK.  The training in the afternoon was more relaxed and fun than I had imagined it would be, with nice people and plenty of breaks.  The morning was rough for me because we were in a closed auditorium with low lighting and an enormous screen with a Powerpoint presentation projected on it.  My eyes crossed.  I couldn’t stop yawning.  I couldn’t sit still.  That always happens to me in that situation.  Such a relief to walk in to our training room which, thankfully, has windows.

Still, every once in awhile it would dawn on me that my salary is only $34K per year.  And that I’m not a lead or a project manager.  And that I’m not at IBM. Which is natural.  Going from tenure to newbie is bound to make anyone a little homesick.

Have to be at work at 8am, this morning, and time is getting away from me.  Went to bed a little after midnight because we stayed up to watch “The Iron Giant”.  I kept making David pause it because I was sure it was going to be a heart-breaker, but it wasn’t.  Just a great story.  Great movie.  I am determined to get to sleep by 10:30 or 11:00 tonight.  I’d like to be up by 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning so I don’t run out of time.

Our new dog, Faith, has hypothyroidism and we need to pick up her medication today.  And my cell phone is broken and needs to go to AT&T Customer Service.  Or maybe I can buy a new one?  Sure would like to get an iPhone.

Faith has been a pure pleasure to have around.  She loves affection and walks, and she’s big enough to put my arm around if we’re sitting down at the same level.  I’ve gone from being a bit terrified of her to feeling reassured by her presence.  I wish we could trust her around our cats.  No telling how long that will take.

That’s it for now.

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Dear Diary

Today is my first day of training at my new job.  I managed to get to sleep around midnight with my normal dosages of medication, and I also managed to get up at 5:30.  Getting up that early every day is very important, to me.  It gives me time to wake up, drink my coffee and iced tea/Coke, write in my diary, take Faith for a nice long walk, and take my time getting ready for work.  Since I’m going to have to be there at 8:00am for the next couple of months I want to make sure I have time to sort of walk in to work relaxed at a time when I can feel that I’ve accomplished my morning tasks and given myself time to start my day off right.

We worked on the yard all day, yesterday.  New fencing on the sides of our house (including a new gate), and I’ve gotten a good start at resloping part of the yard.  I pulled up most of the gladiolas so I could build up the soil.  Used all of the compost pile.  Still have bags and bags of dead leaves and I wonder if they’ve composted, too?  Also discovered that we have a much-needed drainage pipe that runs the length of part of the yard.  We unclogged it and I’m in the process of filling in the trench with rocks.  I hope we have time to plant grass seed and plants before it gets too hot.

Regarding the waking up gasping for air thing I sometimes do:  I found a sleep disorder on the Internet that I think describes it.  Wires get crossed in your brain so that just as you’re falling in to a deep sleep your brain thinks you aren’t getting enough oxygen; your brain makes your muscles twitch and causes you to gasp in an effort to make you revive yourself.  I think this explanation will go a long way towards easing the fear and panic I feel when this happens.  I had thought it was psychosomatic.

Well, the sun is beginning to rise now and I’m at those very few minutes between dawn and daylight.  The birds are waking up and calling each other, and it reminds me of the noise and ruckus of a junior high school cafeteria.

Off to feed the cats, now.

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Take A Deep Breath

I intended to be in bed by 12:30 last night, so I took my medication, including Seroquel, around 11:45.  By 1:30 I was still wide awake, so I took a second Seroquel, thinking I may have forgotten to take the first.  I went to bed and read for awhile, then turned off the light, expecting to fall asleep.  I never really settled in.  I hurt all over — every joint ached.  My head itched.  I felt anxious.  David came to bed and curled up around me.  I got up and smoked and sipped on the remnants of my Coke on two different occasions and finally realized that it felt as if I was going through withdrawal from Seroquel — as if I hadn’t taken any at all.  I got up again and checked out the pills in the their bottle.  Each pill was clearly stamped, “Seroquel 100″, so I had to assume they were real.  I took a 3rd pill a little before 4am and did finally fall asleep some time later.  I woke up at 10:40, and the weird thing is that I don’t feel hung over the way I would expect to feel after taking 3 times the prescribed dosage of a medication that normally knocks me out in 30 minutes.

I don’t understand what happened last night.  I was seriously experiencing withdrawal symptoms of some kind.  Did I forget to take my Neurontin?  Was it actually something to do with Bipolar Disorder — an anxiety attack, for instance?  I recall that as I was finally falling asleep after 4am I woke myself up several times gasping for air, really afraid of falling all the way asleep because I was momentarily convinced that if I did I would stop breathing.  I don’t know if it was sleep apnea, or anxiety, or if even maybe I was stopping breathing.  Obviously, I survived.

I awakened with a powerful feeling of shame, deriding myself for not simply giving up on sleep when the first pill didn’t work.  I kept picturing how David’s face would have closed up if he’d watched me take all those pills.  I imagined that he would have disapproved, and that he would have started worrying about my ability to soldier on at my new job.  And, as always, I pictured my 2nd cousin, Jackie, and her long-suffering husband who has stayed with her through thick and thin, through shock treatments and medications, through depression after depression.  I pictured the way our extended family has incapsulated them in a virtual ball that they toss back and forth to each other.  The whole “it’s your turn, I spent time with them last month” kind of thing.

I’ve only met Jackie a few times in my life, and she was always a chatty, slightly inappropriate, deeply sweet and loving woman.  She was part of the crew of women who kicked me out of my own home the day of my wedding so they could clean the house before the guests arrived.  She vacuumed the who house.  Nonetheless, when I think of Jackie I think of the family collectively shaking their heads over her.  I think, “Jackie, the lost cause.”  I have had an intense fear of being the next Jackie, in my marriage.  Have done since the day I got married.  And yet, each time I gasped for air last night I wished David would wake up and be concerned about me.  I find that very embarrassing in the light of day.

Here’s the thing, though.  All self-recrimination and anxiety and other emotions aside, I don’t want to do that with my medication again.  I wasn’t thinking straight last night, but it’s critical that I not screw with the dosage on any of my medications.  It’s better to be short of sleep than to risk the chemical imbalance that results from actions like those I took last night.

My most immediate and gigantic fear is that I will let David down at this company that now employs the both of us.  That I’ll freak out or screw up or people won’t like me, that I’ll be an embarrassment to him.  It’s getting in my way, right now.  But maybe it’ll help me not do any of those things when I start working there.

That’s it for now.  More later.  Maybe.  For now, I’m going to throw on some clothes and work in the yard.  Clean house.  Pay bills.  think about getting some new shoes or top to start my new job in.  And later today, much later, enjoy a long, long walk with Faith.

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One Step Forward

I think its a good idea for me to start journaling again.  I need a place to let out the questions and anxieties and ideas that cross my mind.  A place holder, like I used to have.

I’m starting a new job day after tomorrow and it requires some big adjustments in my thinking.  It’s a steep drop in salary and responsibility — the kind of job a 20-year-old might luck in to, or a recent college grad who has to start paying back their student loans and so takes something even though it has nothing to do with their degree.  It’s a “no experience necessary” kind of job, and it pays roughly one-third of my previous salary.

And then there’s the fact that I haven’t worked at all in nearly a year.  I have enjoyed my freedom — really drunk it in.  I guess you could say I plan to miss that freedom, because my feelings about going back to work anywhere go way beyond expecting to miss the unstructured openness I’ve had this past year.

And what an important year it has been for me, personally.  I know it’s caused a chain reaction of enormously emotional decisions for my parents, and I know it’s been very hard on my marriage.  But what I needed a year ago and what I have gained during these past months has been so important, so absolutely necessary, that it eclipses even those side effects, to me.

And there’s been a coulda-shoulda-woulda aspect to the past few years, too.  And that’s important because it is leaps and bounds beyond the simple, self-disgust I felt before I started down this road.  Coulda-shoulda-woulda implies that I’ve learned something upon reflection, and learning something is like taking a token to some future toll booth and sticking it in my pocket… and moving on down the road.  At least, that’s what it implies this time.

Even though it had really been coming on for years, I was surprised to find myself where I was at when I left IBM.  A drinking problem.  Severe anxiety.  Hypomania.  Depression.  Hypochondria.  Unable to concentrate and unwilling to move on at work.  I don’t think I ever really wanted to leave IBM — it was just that I felt so ashamed of being in that state; and I was financially unable to take a leave of absence.  When I left it wasn’t with the determination to do something else for a living — any action I took in that direction was more about believing I’d lost all the strength I used to have.  No, hen I left it was to untangle myself.  And I knew it would take a lot of time — though I didn’t know how much.

The truth is that I took this time again David’s wishes and without his encouragement or support.  I understand how he’s felt about all of it.  The financial worries.  the disorientation, because my career and salary were such an integral part of who I was.  I tried to communicate where I was at and what I needed to do, but I was unable to help him see things from my perspective.

Essentially, when I left IBM I saw my goal:  simply getting untangled and being myself again.  But I had no idea what I would need to do to get there.  I didn’t see La Hacienda.  I didn’t see getting back on medication.  I didn’t see being OK with being alone, or OK with controlling expenses, or OK with eating at home all the time.  And I wasn’t sure I would reach my goal, since I didn’t know what road to take to get here.

Bipolar symptoms aside (at least I buy in to what they are, now), I know I did reach my goal.  I am me again.

I wish I could step back in to my old PM role at IBM.  I miss it sometimes.

I think this new job could be a lot of fun. The company represents the cutting edge of beautiful, useful, reliable technological design and the people that work there have the reputation of being hip, highly educated, and underemployed (often by choice).  I can make a place for myself there, make new friends, have a reason to resurrect my old fashion sense.  And I’ll be helping people every day.

I worry about accomplishing the feat of conforming to a strictly controlled schedule (I’ve never done that, often to my own professional detriment), and I worry about being overwhelmed by the change in professional and financial altitude.

But I can think of it in a different way, and here’s what I mean:  we got a new dog 2 weeks ago.  I was so scared of her the first night that I wanted to return her, but then I decided to take on the challenge of being her benevolent leader, her protector.  For the first few days, every walk was a wrestling match, until we finally started understanding what each of us needed from each other.  Now I have begun to teach her to stop at each road we come to, each curb we have to step down from.

And that’s what this new job is like.  It’s not so much like stepping off a professional cliff.  It’s like stepping off a curb, crossing a street, and at some point, stepping back up again.

Like many Americans today, I am starting over again professionally.  I’m making what I made nearly 15 years ago.  And throughout these past 15 years I have stumbled my way up a rickety ladder.  This is my chance to cash in on all the coulda-shoudla-woulda’s of my career.

A fresh start in a fresh state of mind.

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