(no subject)
Jun. 15th, 2014 01:18 amThis whole issue I've had for years has taught me a couple things, maybe.
One, when it flares up, my whole body starts to feel like shit. It seems like my face is much more likely to break out (and curb any treatment I'm attempting) once my scalp flares up, whatever the fuck that is. It actually takes a great deal of strength and energy to keep a positive routine going when this happens - the past week, I've fallen off the exercise bandwagon. It started mainly with feeling overly drained one night after doing some of these 4x20 workouts, and by the end of the week my scalp was going into the "painful" stage. Once that happens, I'm shot energetically.
It's so hard trying to live with this, but my last dermatologist saw me twice without any indication he knew what the hell it was. I've seen four other doctors prior to that. I gave up after the dermatologist. I just get thrown on medication immediately (seems like if they can't figure it out, they always try generalized drugs.) Back when they thought it was a fungal infection, I had to deal with the terrible side-effects of extreme lethargy, lack of appetite...basically, deep depression. I could argue that I've always been like this but it's really not the case. I was always up and down, with great extensive up periods.
If I think back, all of this downhill tumble began right about when Cookie left. The scalp issue started shortly after that. I wrecked my car once I was on anti-fungals for it (failed attempt at fixing it.) Fell asleep at the wheel. I had some drinks that night, but figured most of the effect had worn off by the time I was leaving where I was at...well, didn't matter, because mixing the two is a bad idea. I was stuck then, for about six months. No way to really get out of my house. Went to Alaska the spring following that, came back, started at United. All along I was dealing with my scalp.
To me, something about the ketaconazole and heavy antibiotics (the same kind they use for cancer patients) triggered some seriously deep emotional issues. It may have been the life circumstances, too. But now, at this point, having suffered with this for years, I guess it seems apparent the disease itself seems to have a kind of grip on my emotional and physical state. I simply can't function at the same level when it's active. It makes me lethargic, and I need lots of sleep. I lose my appetite.
Out of all of this, what have I learned?
That if I don't take care of me first, I can't do a damn thing.
Life sucks at the moment, I'm not going to lie. I actually have more fun at work than I do outside of it. The two friends I'd say I'm closest to (and really, besides co-workers I consider friends, are my only friends) excluded me from a get-together with some people that yes, I mutually know. So unless I was intentionally excluded by the host (whom I am an acquaintance with) my friends pretty much determined that I wasn't worth inviting. This actually hurts, quite a bit. They talked about it in front of me, and didn't bother even suggesting that I go. So it came and went. And all this week, they were wondering why I wasn't on RazorComms gaming with them - well, for one, because I've been meaning to kill that habit with fire for awhile, and two, because I feel like the only time you guys really want me around is when everything else going on for you falls through. That means weekdays, in the limited fashion of internet voice chat, because you work, just like I do, and have few hobbies. There's a lot of things I'd rather be doing, and I really don't want them to feel bad that I don't want to sit on internet voice chat for two hours a night with them, but this is reality. I want to spend that time reading books, and writing, and listening to music. I spend all day working with people. Maybe this will nudge them towards figuring out ways we can hang out on the weekends, but honestly, I doubt it. Rick has a lot of friends (and I mean a lot, seriously) and Rob has a kid on the way. Neither of us have many mutual interests anymore, not mutual friends. And when they hang out with their friends, apparently...they don't need me around.
I thought about reconnecting with Matt this weekend, and sent a text asking Jenn what was going on (they should be long broken up at this point) to find out they are both still together (and I'm sure totally miserable) and asking me to come out tonight. Well, I didn't. Primarily because I don't want to listen to how great Matt's life is in a veiled "you are a fucking loser" fashion. I'm so sick of people feeling more satisfied with their lives than me. But really, there are a lot of things I am satisfied with - it's just that most people can't connect to those things.
I spent a lot of time out in the garage with my father this week. That was a really big deal. I used one of the newer milling machines he had, and I'm learning some machining basics. I feel like most of this stuff comes pretty naturally to me...which shouldn't be surprising. It's all logic with some math. I've run lathes before, but he did let me use a milling machine a bit, which is new, and I was able to observe dial indicators used properly, which is also new. He really is a mechanical genius - his restored 1954 John Deere caterpillar is nearly complete. I have just as much adoration for old machines as he does, honestly. I've just never been able to really pursue that interest. Mostly because I've never been willing to go out and buy something worth taking apart and trying to fix.
So here I am now, another weekend blown hanging by my self. But you know what, who really cares anyway? Hopefully someday, I get through this.
I thought to my self the other night, that the absolute worst case scenario for me is this: being alone, and being miserable...or being alone, and being content and happy. It's my choice. Those are the worst things that can happen...and while at times I feel like I'd rather be dead than be alone...if I can find happiness in my life, even now, then maybe I will at least be prepared for the worst.
I really pray that I'm not as big of a fuck up as I have thought I may be...that all of this will pass as a temporary circumstance of a wonderful life. But I am not the fates, either. I may have some control, but I don't have all of it.
Peace and Love
One, when it flares up, my whole body starts to feel like shit. It seems like my face is much more likely to break out (and curb any treatment I'm attempting) once my scalp flares up, whatever the fuck that is. It actually takes a great deal of strength and energy to keep a positive routine going when this happens - the past week, I've fallen off the exercise bandwagon. It started mainly with feeling overly drained one night after doing some of these 4x20 workouts, and by the end of the week my scalp was going into the "painful" stage. Once that happens, I'm shot energetically.
It's so hard trying to live with this, but my last dermatologist saw me twice without any indication he knew what the hell it was. I've seen four other doctors prior to that. I gave up after the dermatologist. I just get thrown on medication immediately (seems like if they can't figure it out, they always try generalized drugs.) Back when they thought it was a fungal infection, I had to deal with the terrible side-effects of extreme lethargy, lack of appetite...basically, deep depression. I could argue that I've always been like this but it's really not the case. I was always up and down, with great extensive up periods.
If I think back, all of this downhill tumble began right about when Cookie left. The scalp issue started shortly after that. I wrecked my car once I was on anti-fungals for it (failed attempt at fixing it.) Fell asleep at the wheel. I had some drinks that night, but figured most of the effect had worn off by the time I was leaving where I was at...well, didn't matter, because mixing the two is a bad idea. I was stuck then, for about six months. No way to really get out of my house. Went to Alaska the spring following that, came back, started at United. All along I was dealing with my scalp.
To me, something about the ketaconazole and heavy antibiotics (the same kind they use for cancer patients) triggered some seriously deep emotional issues. It may have been the life circumstances, too. But now, at this point, having suffered with this for years, I guess it seems apparent the disease itself seems to have a kind of grip on my emotional and physical state. I simply can't function at the same level when it's active. It makes me lethargic, and I need lots of sleep. I lose my appetite.
Out of all of this, what have I learned?
That if I don't take care of me first, I can't do a damn thing.
Life sucks at the moment, I'm not going to lie. I actually have more fun at work than I do outside of it. The two friends I'd say I'm closest to (and really, besides co-workers I consider friends, are my only friends) excluded me from a get-together with some people that yes, I mutually know. So unless I was intentionally excluded by the host (whom I am an acquaintance with) my friends pretty much determined that I wasn't worth inviting. This actually hurts, quite a bit. They talked about it in front of me, and didn't bother even suggesting that I go. So it came and went. And all this week, they were wondering why I wasn't on RazorComms gaming with them - well, for one, because I've been meaning to kill that habit with fire for awhile, and two, because I feel like the only time you guys really want me around is when everything else going on for you falls through. That means weekdays, in the limited fashion of internet voice chat, because you work, just like I do, and have few hobbies. There's a lot of things I'd rather be doing, and I really don't want them to feel bad that I don't want to sit on internet voice chat for two hours a night with them, but this is reality. I want to spend that time reading books, and writing, and listening to music. I spend all day working with people. Maybe this will nudge them towards figuring out ways we can hang out on the weekends, but honestly, I doubt it. Rick has a lot of friends (and I mean a lot, seriously) and Rob has a kid on the way. Neither of us have many mutual interests anymore, not mutual friends. And when they hang out with their friends, apparently...they don't need me around.
I thought about reconnecting with Matt this weekend, and sent a text asking Jenn what was going on (they should be long broken up at this point) to find out they are both still together (and I'm sure totally miserable) and asking me to come out tonight. Well, I didn't. Primarily because I don't want to listen to how great Matt's life is in a veiled "you are a fucking loser" fashion. I'm so sick of people feeling more satisfied with their lives than me. But really, there are a lot of things I am satisfied with - it's just that most people can't connect to those things.
I spent a lot of time out in the garage with my father this week. That was a really big deal. I used one of the newer milling machines he had, and I'm learning some machining basics. I feel like most of this stuff comes pretty naturally to me...which shouldn't be surprising. It's all logic with some math. I've run lathes before, but he did let me use a milling machine a bit, which is new, and I was able to observe dial indicators used properly, which is also new. He really is a mechanical genius - his restored 1954 John Deere caterpillar is nearly complete. I have just as much adoration for old machines as he does, honestly. I've just never been able to really pursue that interest. Mostly because I've never been willing to go out and buy something worth taking apart and trying to fix.
So here I am now, another weekend blown hanging by my self. But you know what, who really cares anyway? Hopefully someday, I get through this.
I thought to my self the other night, that the absolute worst case scenario for me is this: being alone, and being miserable...or being alone, and being content and happy. It's my choice. Those are the worst things that can happen...and while at times I feel like I'd rather be dead than be alone...if I can find happiness in my life, even now, then maybe I will at least be prepared for the worst.
I really pray that I'm not as big of a fuck up as I have thought I may be...that all of this will pass as a temporary circumstance of a wonderful life. But I am not the fates, either. I may have some control, but I don't have all of it.
Peace and Love