Emotional Novicaine

Today has been a bad day. That sounds so harsh. I should be thankful, and you will understand shortly.

To preface this chain of events, I should reveal that I had a full plan for the day. It was not planned to the minute, but it was, by far, the best I have done lately about organizing my time. My original situation was to wake up at around 10:00AM and get books for this quarter at college. Then, since I am about a week behind, I was going to spend the majority of my day reading the eight chapters from the two textbooks and working on two papers for my English class. All of this is due this coming Wednesday. It should be due Monday, but I am fortunate enough to have the Martin Luther King holiday to extend my time. In addition, I had some laundry and some ironing to do, as well as see what needed done around the house. As you can see, there is quite a bit that I could have accomplished. So far, other than running one load of laundry, very little has gotten done.

This morning, I woke up, after only about 3 hours of good sleep, to the moaning of my father in the next room. It has been a year since I have heard these utterances rising above the quite runble of th furnace and the aquarium pump in the night. Dad was in pain due to a kidney stone. I hope I never have one, but from what I have heard, a kidney stone is far worse than any child birth or surgery one can have. The ambulance comes to pick him up just before 7:00AM. Waiting in the emergency room was torture. I was somewhat concerned about Dad, but I knew what the likely scenario was and that the problem could be dealt with. In the meantime, I was sitting there doing absolutely nothing except being with Dad for the next 6 hours. He is discharged at 1PM, and I think that I can get back into my plans...

The best-laid plans are always spoiled. Just as I was getting ready to venture out to purchase my textbooks, we received a call from my grandmother. She had some computer problems that she wanted me to take a look at. They were related to my upgrading her system this week from Windows ME to Windows XP. I left at a little after 2PM, intending to go to the campus bookstore and go to Grandma's house for a quick visit. I should have known better. There is no such thing as a quick visit. It is a genetic trait from my mother's side, I swear. I have my own fair share of the gift of gab. You're reading part of it right now. What should have been a visit that lasted about an hour turned into nearly 5. I did not get home until nearly 9PM. I ate dinner and then watched a little television, conceding the fact that there is no way I could do any studying tonight, as tired as I am. I figure that I will finish this entry, check my email one last time, and then head to bed.

Of course, this is not the end of my plans. While I was at the hopsital today, I called my little brother to let him know what the situation is. He is naturally concerned about how Dad is doing. He has decided to come home for a couple of days to keep people company, especially Dad. He is on the road right now, I am sure. I enjoy seeing my brother, but he will be here while I am trying to study, and I will feel a certain compulsion to spend time with him. I also hate to be interrupted when I am really trying to accomplish something or have someone "keeping an eye on me." I know he is not going to intentionally be lurking around me constantly, watching my every move. It still bugs me for some reason. He will probably stay until Sunday, which means that my time has now been shortened to about two days, excluding any other issues or interruptions happen to creep up.

I have so many mixed emotions right now. I really shouldn't be upset over that which I can exert no control; I do. Despite my current ramblings, I knew deep down that I should have been there for Dad and should have helped out Grandma. I did the right thing. It just hurts, thinking of yourself as at least somewhat selfless and trying to balance that with my own innate human selfishness, even if that selfishness deals with something that can lead me to a better life.

Another incident today is bugging me. After we arrived home, I made the comment that if my manager at worked asked if I would come in and work, I would politely refuse. Dad asked why, and I told him of the work that I needed to complete by next week. He asked about the deadline, and when I told him, he started on another one of his stories that only serves in unintentionally belittle me. He said that I should have no trouble completing all of that before next week, even if I had to work today. Of course, he compared the two of us; he came out on top, as usual. The capsule summary went something like this, "In college, I worked 60 hours of the week and went to school 20 hours. You don't even work 25 hours and only have 11 credit hours. You can get it done if I did." This proves nothing except, perhaps, that Dad doesn't think very highly of how I conduct myself and that he has better skills at managing his time that I ever have and may never will.

All of this goes to the core of feeling, at least for a short time, that the world is conspiring to prevent my success. While I know this is not true, I can never feel free enough here to think I can outwardly feel that way, even for a short time. I would have to say that living her has really gotten to me; I am at my breaking point. At the hospital, I was mildly concerned. However, I failed to really feel that this situation was worthy of concern. For a number of years now, I have come to realize that I am unable to genuinely feel and show emotions. Yes, I cry from time to time, but I don't have the same personal connection to anyone. I know television is not a good model to follow, but I feel so clumsy compared to either characters on television (who are prewritten, of course) or to real individuals. I have a great deal of knowledge, so I have been told. When it comes to emotions, the only one I know how to feel anymore is despair, and I can't even really feel comfortable sharing that with another human soul.

Change of Heart

A long time has passed since my last entry. Much has changed since then. Jen is no longer an issue, at least not romantically. She decided that she would refer to "the boyfriend" by a fake name, to prevent me from finding out the true identity of the guy. It turns out to be Jeff, a less than ideal match for her. But this is not why I am writing tonight. I have long since dealt with that.

Tonight, I am writing about my current disappointment. Since my last entry, I was asked to be a groomsman for Dan, one of my closest friends. I gladly accepted the honor. Of course, I am allowed to bring a guest to the wedding. I didn't have anyone here that I would consider taking to the wedding, since Jen and I are no longer a couple and I am not seeing anyone else. As I thought about who I might take, I stumbed across an old ticket stub from my time at Miami University. This ticket stub was for a Manhattan Transfer concert, a birthday gift for another close friend of mine, Cherese. I would have to say that Cherese is probably my closest friend. There are things that she knew years before anyone else. Anyway, I asked her last week if she wanted to go. She was thrilled at being asked and was excitied to see me again. We had not talked for nearly a year and have not seen each other since May of 1999. Five and a half years is far too long. But she is studying to be a music teacher and is student teaching. She told me that she needed to check her calendar. So this afternoon, I get a phone call back from her. We talked briefly before she revealed that the whole weekend is booked. There is no way for her to come. She apologized and was obviously disappointed. The problem is, so am I. Perhaps too much so. Since it had been such a long time since we had talked, I had forgotten how good it feels to spend time with her. It makes the feelings of admiration and companionship I had with Jen pale in comparison. So I am not sure what to think. Am I in love? Is it too early to even be thinking about it? Should I reveal everything to her in one fell swoop? Will she reciprocate? All of these questions are just that, questions.

The other major problem results in her not being able to attend. Last night, I was talking to Jen again. We were just chatting; she was sharing that her life is not so great at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I am upset with her handling of the whole Jeff situation, but she is still a close friend. As we were talking, I mentioned the wedding. She sarcastically thanked me for inviting her to go. Immediately after, she said that if I couldn't find someone to take, she would go. I sluffed it off on the phone and changed the subject, but I was a little surprised at this. The thing is, I don't really want to take her. I didn't say yes or no on the phone, and I am regretting that now. Since Cherese can't go, I have to tell Jen that I don't want to take her. She is going to be upset. I hate to do that to her, but I need to move on. I wanted that direction to be with Cherese, but that probably won't happen now. In the meantime, I have to hurt the feelings of a close friend and my first long-term relationship.

Missing Someone

Tonight, I stopped by a local street fair, a small version of a classic town fair. I was invited by none other than Jen. She was working for her father selling his products, and she was bored. I arrived at about 5:15. For about an hour, we just stood at the booth talking. A few times, we were interrupted by potential customers, but she sold nothing for the whole time. Her mother arrived around 6:30 or so. We left her there to get something to eat. Together, Jen and I enjoyed a steak sandwich, delightfully greasy fair fries, and a humongous funnel cake. I am still stuffed now. Afterwards, we wandered through the street. We watched some square dancing and searched for her cousins who were there. At about 8:45, we made our way back to the booth. When we arrived, Jen got out a chair for me to sit in, and I sat there until about 9:10. While I had been sitting, Jen's father arrived. He seemed only mildly cordial. He wasn't hostile by any means, but there was a distinct sense of being ignored. I figure the sentiment was, "Why the hell is he here?" At that point, I left the fair to come to a friend's house for a bit. I am sitting here writing this.

To be perfectly honest, I am still madly in love with Jen. I wasn't sure about how I felt before, but it felt so good to be near her. I don't know how much she was able to sense, but I expect it was quite a bit. Things are better because of the medication, and it makes the emotions just that much stronger. I wanted to be a friend, and I always will be. However, I will probably always love her. I know she is with another guy, so I don't know if or when I will talk to her about it or even if she can reciprocate those feelings. But tonight, we had such a chemistry. I am still excited from my night out with Jen, and I am disappointed that it had to end. Am I crazy to think that we could be together again? Is it a possibility with her living at home? So many questions... All I know for sure is that I want to spend a great deal more time with her.

Second Opinion

Today, I say a local psychiatrist. He evaluated the fact that I have two forms of depression, adult ADD, and societal anxiety. I have a hill to climb ahead.

The hill I must climb isn't steep, but it is long, and I need to avoid losing my grip on the true perspective. A large part of that is Dad. I haven't talked about him yet, but I need to vent my feelings so that they don't build up. After my appointment and Dad's arrival home, I told Dad how the appointment went and what the medication involved. Immediately, Dad's mind leapt into overdrive and landed upon the suggestion of using one of those little pill boxes with the compartments for each day. Now, I don't want to sound rude, but those are for old people... Let me explain. I have one pill to take a day for probably the next 18 months, and one pill to take for the next two weeks. I know I'm not the best at remembering things, but those tend to be used by people who need to take upwards of four of five pills a day, with perhaps different dosages on different days.

I guess, more than the fact that I have this stupid little pill container is how Dad handled the situation. He didn't ask if that would work for me or if I minded; he just bought it at the drugstore when we picked up the prescription. On top of that, while I was putting away some groceries, he went ahead and put the pills in the container and put the rest of the pills in the cupboard. Now it sounds like a petty little thing to worry about, but we havae had the discussion a number of times about my need to be more independent. Obviously, this does nothing for my independence and learning to handle responsibility. I know I am likely to forget and this is important, but the least he could have done is get my input and let me take care of it, even if he wants to watch me. I was always irritated in school when other students would finish a problem or puzzle of some sort before me (which, to be honest, wasn't all that often), and the child would shout out the answer or start talking about the solution. I want to be independent; I need to be independent. And while I don't want Dad to totally withdraw and leave me alone during this new period of the unknown, I do want him to be more distant from actually taking over my treatment and life.

And it's so hard to say anything to him because he always seems to haev a response that I can't come back to. Tonight, for example, I was going to take my prescription upstairs to my bedroom, and Dad said, "It might be wise to leave those down here." In other words, "They'd get lost or you will forget to take the medication." For a split second, I showed the slightest hint of anger. In a fraction of a second, I realized that I shouldn't be, that Dad was looking out for my best interests. At that point, I was willing to drop it. Dad wasn't. He noticed, as he usually does when I slip, and began to question me about it. After I answered, the dicussion became a lecture. Dad started rambling about the fact that this is so important (which is true) and that he wants to help me (which is also true), but I have heard the same stuff over and over again. It is a dictatorial tone, one without the possibility of choice and freedom. It's Dad's way or the highway. I may be a little skewed in my perspective, but that is how I perceive the way things are right now.

For those of you who stuck around this long, I will be taking Welbutrin to deal with my depression and ADD. Welbutrin is designed to increase a couple of chemicals in the brain that are deficient and cause a lack of motivation or anxiety or hopelessnessm when found in small amounts.

Conflicted Emotions

Today has been a rather odd day. In order to set up the scenario, I will need to briefly explain events up to the current point.

In the summer of 2002, I dated Jen, an old schoolmate and current co-worker, for about 4 months. The relationship ended out of mainly fear on her part, since neither of us had ever been involved in a serious relationship. The following summer, we began talking again and renewed our relationship. This time, it lasted 10 months. The relationship was going so well that I actually lost my virginity to her in late January 2004. She saw me through the worst time of my life, and I was doing well. Over time, things began to change; she became more disrespectful and distant. At the end of the relationship, we mutually decided that we should be friends and move on with our lives.

This brings us to the present. Over the last few weeks, Jen has been calling me somewhat persistently to talk about life, including her new boyfriend. I really don't have a problem talking about the boyfriend, but it would be nice to know a name. She continues to refuse to tell me his name, even though we have talked about the fact that he has brought her roses and all of those small romantic things that new couples (and old ones) do for each other.

It is rather unusual for me to feel certain emotions, since I generally consider myself a fairly logical and passive person. Today, I am feeling a mild bit of jealousy and a large amount of curiosity over this boyfriend which might not even exist. It's sad that I feel that way, the lack of trust that Jen would be telling the truth, but she has been known to be extremely evasive in the past.

In talking to my therapist, (yes, I am seeing a shrink...) I began to realize that I want a social life in the worst way, just not with Jen. I am more jealous that so many people around me are happy and enjoying time with each other while I keep putting up road blocks to my enjoyment, such as putting myself down or zoning out surfing the internet or reading a book for the 43rd time.

A great deal of this feeling of jealousy is reinforced by my current situation. So many people around me, including Jen having a boyfriend. My best friend Dan just proposed to his girlfriend of a year, my brother (who is 3 years younger than I) proposed to his high-school sweetheart a couple of weeks ago, and then there are my parents, married for 30 years.

Of course, here I go, comparing myself to others when I know that isn't a good idea. But that's been a common pattern of mine, to wallow in my sorrow and not have the perserverance to rise out of my gloomy mood and love life and myself.

First Post

I don't want to make a huge deal out of this first post, but I wanted to just say that I want to have a place to anonymously vent my thoughts aand feelings. I would appreciate anyone who reads or listens to any of this to feel free to comment on whether or not I am full of shit or not.

Anyway, I hope to be more avid at blogging here than on my real blog, wherever that is... ;-) (You don't honestly think I would give away my identity that easily, did you?)