A good day?

Real quick, since I do want to go to sleep.

Today I noticed for the first time in a while, I was coming up with comebacks, joking around, cursing, and generally feeling accepted, like one of the guys. When I was cleaning up with the two people who were, until recently, the only two other males at the store, we were laughing, telling dirty jokes, and generally just getting along great. It felt good. I need to learn how to do that more often.

Might another thought of mine just interject here however? The above paragraph, while encouraging, pisses me off. I'm tired of having to relearn over and over again how to interact with people. Twice now I've gotten depressed, and twice now I've had to completely remake my persona. And it's a lot of work to craft a persona! How the hell did it get to a place where I have to learn how to be happy? I'm JOLLY dammit. I am the freaking living god of happiness. What the hell happened?

And if this is all in my head, then how the hell did I let this happen?

I can't let this happen again. Let's learn again how to live my life feeling satisfaction and joy, and then lets learn how to never forget it again.

Why don't I just jump off a bridge?

It's sweet that there are people out there that care about me. But sometimes it can be quite creepy.

My manager, Kristy, is 32 with two kids, yet she looks like a 21-year old fox. Don't really know why I had to mention it, except I've always had a slight thing for her.

Anyways, Kristy actually pulls me aside today and tells me, "Joe, you seem so sad, and for no good reason. Just as a bit of advice, do you think girls like sad sacks?" First of all, I know they don't; that's why I'm single right now instead of fucking Shayne. But she goes on...

"You're a good looking guy, funny, sweet, caring, but you're always so down on yourself. The only thing keeping you from having a girlfriend is you. Honestly, I worry about you. You seem like the kind of guy who's going to jump off a bridge!"

I didn't really know how to respond to that. Initially I was flattered. I really like and respect Kristy, and to know she cares about me like that is really sweet. But the more I think about it, the more bothered I am about the whole thing. I'm getting tired of people telling me I'm not myself. I know I'm not myself, I know I'm depressed, I know I have a problem. That's why I spend $30 a session in co-pays for my psychiatrist. And believe it or not, I've considered jumping off a bridge, and it's not something I want to go back to.

Nor is it pleasant to think that these people will forever think of me as this sad, lonely kid. I used to be Jolly, and I really did like that persona. To me, this is a blip, a low period, yet to them, I'm going to be thirty and staring over the abyss.

Truth be told, I worry about that thought. That this will never end, that this overbearing depression is the real me, and that my period of happiness was the blip. And I don't like knowing that for all of my coworkers, I am that permanently depressed person that I'm trying so hard to avoid becoming.

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I also want to talk about her supposedly positive comments, because this is a concept that I'm only just beginning to realize, and I'm struggling with the implications. I'm beginning to reach the conclusion that this is all in my head. All of it, the awkwardness, the depression, the loneliness, all of it is self-perpetuating. None of it is based in anything concrete, it's all just something that reinforces itself. I'm depressed because I'm lonely, I'm lonely because I'm awkward and depressed, and I'm awkward because I'm depressed. It's a vicious cycle, so to speak.

But what does this mean? For one, Rui's "fake it till you make it" comment is accurate. If I put my faith in this theory, then all I need to do is break the cycle. Choose to not let the loneliness and the awkwardness bother me, and I'll stop being depressed, which will lead me to be less awkward and, eventually, less lonely. So over the past few days, I have been trying to do just that. Allow myself to be joyful, not dwell on the negative, take pleasure in the little things, enjoy the company of my coworkers and friends.

And yet it's never that simple, is it?

No, I still find myself longing for Shayne, and having a worse mood overall, and feeling awkward and lonely and depressed.

What shocks me especially is the longing for Shayne. The rest I can handle. In fact, my mood has improved quite a bit, even if it's not where it should be, and my feelings of awkwardness have begun to go away. (At least, I'm beginning to accept them.) But still, at least a few times a day, I find myself thinking of her. Sometimes wistfully, sometimes bemusedly, but sometimes bitterly, and sometimes in mourning. Once a day at least I mourn her, miss her, ache for her presence, her joy, her laugh, her warmth. I tell myself I'll allow a little bit of mourning. But her presence seems to fade so slowly, if at all.

And so I work, trying to keep myself busy. Even as I'm writing this, I begin to feel self-pity, and I take a deep breath, put on a smile, and force myself to recognize that there's nothing wrong with this morally, that I'm not a bad person for feeling this way.

But I worry that this new strategy will be completely ineffective in dealing with Shayne, and I don't know what to do. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm just not done missing her. But I know I can't get better until I stop thinking of her in such a sad way.

Maybe if I got more sleep, and worked less, I might be able to do something? Get something going in my life? Feel better?

I wish.

High Pressure Area Moving in From Canada

I don't want to give Rui credit for turning me around, but ever since he talked to me, and I thought about what he said, and I talked about my thoughts with my psychologist, I've been feeling alot better. More... comfortable with myself, and my situation in life. It's hardly an ideal situation, but it's not an awful one either. Truth be told, I have alot going for me.

Today was really nice. I got to sleep in, which made my life feel so much better. I think I might try to get to bed by one each night, instead of two, so that I can feel this good all the time. When I got to work, I sampled for forty five minutes straight. Normally I'm ready to collapse after ten minutes. Then, after my break, I just got really aggressive in my sales. I broke through, and instead of just showing people product, I began to actually sell to them. And the whole time I felt good about myself. I was laughing and joking around with my coworkers, and while I may have been quiet compared to some of them, compared to how silent I normally am I felt like I was just one of the gang. It felt good.

And then I went out for dinner with friends, and felt accepted. I enjoyed being with them, I enjoyed talking with them, joking around with them. I wasn't sad at all (except when the conversation turned to how Shayne and I broke up, of course).

The best part of today? I actually felt joy every now and then, something I have missed a great deal these long months.

It got me thinking in the past hour or so that maybe I should see if I could tolerate being around Shayne. Who knows, maybe I could reignite something. But I need to keep my head on straight about this. That will not happen. It simply wouldn't work. I feel stronger than I have in months, and I can't risk slipping up again. I've made too much progress. In a few weeks? Maybe. But a few days of happiness does not a recovery make.

I've gone from hurricanes to thunderclouds to grey skies, and finally, finally, I can see the sun shining through the clouds. It's still cloudy, but it looks like there's a lull in the storm; I can't tell exactly, but it may be passing. God I hope so.

Overworked

I can say this will be a quick one, that I'm exhausted, that I really should be sleeping right now. But then I'd be lying, wouldn't I? I will stay up until two writing, only because I made a promise that I'd write every night, and this whole writing thing is really helping me out.

So I nearly got fired from Teavana today. Apparently I hadn't moved my schedule around so I could have dinner with Dad last night. So I was in New Haven when I should have been at work, and ended up having today off.

And I missed my psychologist's appointment. I never knew psychologists could get upset with you, but he was pissed. I felt awful. I had to work, though! This damn job - fixing computers is slowly taking over my life. It's very difficult to manage my time with this job. I never know what my schedule's going to be until the day of, and even then between traffic and part mix-ups my day could be two hours long or ten. And somehow I have to make it to work at 5 pm each day. I don't know how I'm going to do it.

I'm not sleeping nearly enough. My diet's all fucked up. But I'm finally making enough money, I think. I just gotta learn to keep this up for another three months and I'll be good. In the mean time, I'm stressed as shit. It's weird, but if I fall behind at all, and I'm struggling to make things on time, my muscles all tense up. The pills did this in the beginning on their own, so I think pills+stress=really really tense. Like, I need a massage tense.

Oh, and did I mention how I have pretty much no days off? Working seven days a week, eight+ hours a day. No time for friends. The reason I stay up until two each night is so that I have at least a couple hours free a night.

I went to the movies for the first time in a long time (I had actual unexpected free time due to the schedule snafu). Just my mom and I, so I didn't have to be social. Sweeney Todd was amazing, but what concerns this blog is when we waited at West Hartford's Friendly's to get warm. All I could think about was Shayne; I kept looking for her in there. I wish I could just fast forward to three months from now. I really hope I'm not putting too much hope in this trip. It's not going to be a panacea. I know I've talked about this before, but I really hope it does help.

There isn't really much of a theme to tonight's post. Too busy to really analyze anything, it's more a list of the day's events and immediate reactions to said events. I apologize, but come on. They can't all be good.

Note to self: good future post topic: personal lack of motivation/laziness/lack of standards.

I'm exhausted

I had to go home early from a friend's party tonight. I had worked with Brendan on the Ned Lamont campaign, the highlight of my life. I didn't know a soul there outside of Brendan and a frequent Lamont volunteer. I couldn't drink, thanks to my antidepressants and my car, so all there was to enjoy was ham. It was good ham, but still. After a nine hour day, I could barely stand up straight, much less deal with a party. I spent only forty-five minutes there, most of the time in the bathroom. I couldn't deal... I mean, why bother? These people don't know me. They have no clue about my life. What am I supposed to talk to them about? How can I possibly relate to these people? Instead I seem boring and dull. I'm supposed to be having a good time, someone I respect and care about invited me with good will, and instead I'm sitting here wondering why I'm here and what I'm supposed to do.

So I went home.

The weird thing was, Shayne ruined it and she wasn't even there. I wasn't going to go. I was going to go home and lie down, like I had wanted to do since about four o'clock. But then Shayne texted me around seven. She wanted to let me know that she wasn't going to Brendan's party, so if I wanted to go, it would be ok. I decided, sure, I need to get out, see friendly faces. But even that innocuous text was enough to get me going. The entire rest of the night, my mood plunged. I felt awful. Not over anything in particular, mind you. If I had to pin it on something, I'd say the fact that I was feeling ok when I texted her back, and the normalcy of that brief conversation with her, reminded me of better times. And of course, combined with how I had thought of her all day, each time a girl walked by with a Victoria Secret's bag (the only girl I've ever seen sexy underwear on), or every time I saw a beautiful girl, or brushed against some sweet girl's hand when giving them a sample cup... each slightest bit of affection reminded me of her.

So I wish she'd stop talking to me. Maybe I would have kept a decent mood, gone home, and simply gone to bed. I'd certainly feel much better right now.