The situation was dire; the patient circled the drain.
Repeated attempts to bring her back from the edge failed, regardless of their efficacy on others in her condition.
Diagnosis? Chronic stress and fatigue, coupled with Acute Bullshit Toxicity.
That would be me.
Now that school is out, however, and I’ve finally convinced my brain we have a few months off, I’m beginning to crawl out of my self-induced Academic Coma and have remembered there is a place called “outside,” and that it doesn’t only exist in a corridor connecting my house to LCC’s parking structure. There is also, thank goodness, this structure called a “sun,” which help lift my spirits considerably. Since it is nearly June now, this sun thing sometimes visiting Michigan, aiding various neurotransmitters and sundry processes resulting in improved mood. Somehow, though, we seem to have leaped straight from “late winter” into “early summer” without much of a spring. Sad; it’s my favorite time of year.
￼yellowmouser may even be able to help me obtain employment paying an actual living wage. I’m loathe to get my hopes up, though, as it’s helpdesk, and I’m out of practice. While I continue to believe very strongly in Preuss Pets, I don’t think I can continue to work there for so very, very many reasons.
I’ve just spent the last hour or so perusing ￼mccauliflower’s various evil recipes, and, worse, her gorgeously photographed savory creations, and it is 2am in the morning and there is no chance in hell of obtaining a pizza at this hour. Bugger. I spent a good number of hours today ferreting away interesting recipes, which is as good an indication as any that I am reemerging from Winter.
Winter in Michigan is in so many ways more brutal than winter in Washington. There isn’t much green here – everything is dead and brown. The snow is beautiful and more abundant here, which is a good thing, but there are no mountains, no valleys, no endless green forests despite the chill. Michigan is hard.
The elaborate mythology I told myself in coming here has managed to completely collapse, from how my family would interact to how I would fall in love with an old friend to somehow rediscovering a sense of connection to the world. I am still disconnected; I’m merely experiencing it in a familiar place. The bitch of it is, I don’t like this place, even with the familiarity. On the plus side, I’ve met some really cool people here, and they help.
I believe at the core of my long-term struggles with stress, is having been living on the ragged edge of abject poverty since losing my cushy Boeing job. No, money can’t buy me happiness, but being able to pay my rent would sure free up a lot of energy better used elsewhere. Being able to afford some kind of entertainment once in awhile would be even better. Not having to duck out of various fun activities with friends? Awesome.
Thus, The Nursing. A fine and financially sound career. The getting there is the hard part. Cross your fingers for me, if you would, with the new job.
Once that longtime stress is alleviated, I can better work on other causes, but the pendulous, constantly-looming worry/anxiety/fear/stress is the overriding badness. I look forward to its departure.
Speaking of “out of practice,” I have also forgotten how to write engaging posts, sorry. Mostly I’m doing this to get back into the habit, to get my neurons used to thinking and expressing in keystrokes for fun, rather than for school. It took awhile to train them to not make my academic papers look like LJ posts, too: “Organism A presented as a deep azure, the color of distant, violent thunderstorms … Organism B sparkled like the eyes of a woman who knew the mysteries of the universe and couldn’t wait to share them with you…”
But I’m somewhat trainable.
At least, I’d better be, if I have any hope in hell of doing anything but schleping fish or fries for the rest of my life.
But now, the bed and (with luck,) the sleeping.