Tracking Me – April 4, 2017

sinkingfeeling

I have had some of the worst couple of days here recently regarding my own mental health. I mean I know that’s what this is all about but normally I’m just the one writing about it. I don’t normally actually…. suffer from a lot of this. I’m Asher, writer, male, about 31 years old or something close to that. I’m 5’11 blah blah blah, adore lox and cream cheese, salmon in general really. Uh… Anyway, yah hi everyone. So where was I? Oh yah. So I’m normally sitting here writing what Sylvia and the rest are feeling. The last few days here? Yah it’s been all me. Apparently I really can’t handle people being insincere in their word. Leading you one way with promise of job and funds, and a place for you and your dog only to be jerked around for a month and then come to have them tell you nothing of the sort of what was conveyed prior. I’m done with lairs in my life. It’s not even necessarily them lying maliciously *well in a way…. I guess all lying is done in order to gain something for self.* though they are of course trying to score an amazing employee. Which I would be for them, if they gave me any sense of security which from the beginning they haven’t. Nothing has been in writing, it’s all been through Texts… None of the texts end up matching what they said previously. It’s just a bad business model. Which is something I don’t want to *(again)* be sucked into. Been there, done that, paid the bad taxes on it. Maybe next year I can try again, or maybe by next year I’ll be in Ireland with an awesome job. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be surfing somewhere either in Boise or another country. I have no idea and right now I’m not particularly worried about it. I just know that I’ve been suffering the past few days from a drove of anxiety… to the point that I puked yesterday morning and had a complete come apart. That hasn’t happened in a decade.. The last time I puked I had wrapped myself around a telephone poll out back of a pita pit in Ellensburg after an Ex and his buddy got me so drunk I couldn’t handle life. Well… that’s what 6 vodka crans that each have about two three shots worth will do to a 140lb girl. I was a little heavier then… My depression was HEAVY at that time too.

So, I had to take a good hard look at it and after practicing in a dream this AM, let me best friend know I wouldn’t be going to AK this summer. I just.. can’t handle the back and forth of information and the possibility of not having housing until the last minute and and and and… It’s just too much for me. Does it make me less adventurous? Maybe. Does it mean that I’m not going to spend the winter in some tropical place? Maybe. I say maybe because if I can really pull all my expenses in tight I can pull off a good trip this winter. I don’t mind if it’s not months long. I will make things work, I always do. I’ll be able to focus more directly on my art this summer with the extra time which will be nice. I can get the rest of the coloring books distributed and be done with that part of things. I think the coloring book phase is ending and my place in it needs to do so as well. I’d love to keep pushing it and maybe I will depending on how things go.

Fuck… This is what I’m really bad at is not rambling. Though I guess I finally got to the point I was trying to make regarding anxiety and depression. That was all me and Riven yesterday shouldering way too much and just finally cracking. It’s really no wonder between the season (apparently Spring is the worst… you’d think it’d be winter. I’ve come to decide that it’s actually pollens fault for blocking ports in the brain. It just makes logical sense. I wonder if tests have been done for that?) Anyway. Depression, when it stacks up becomes something that is like a living force that starts in your gut and pulls you more and more inward until you are sure that you may as well have inverted in an effort to become more inwardly turned. Anxiety is like a dog that will gnaw at their own skin until there’s a festering hole because all of it itches, then hurts, and all they know is the swipe of their tongue brings some brief reprisal of the afflicting sensation. PTSD, causing you to ever look over your shoulder, don’t have your back to the door, don’t, stop, careful, ever wary… Bi Polar throwing me from one extreme to another has been plaguing me all morning. Elated, depressed, confident, utterly destroyed. It’s a yo yo that never stops. The meds? They help… when you don’t puke them up and then somehow seem to push the rest through your body so when you taken them the next morning they… Hit you like a god damned wall. If you’ve ever run into a mental wall of medication you’ll have complete understanding of what this feels like…

I should shut up.. I just keep babbling at this point.

TLDR: Yesterday sucked the arse end of a platypus. yah… figure that one out. ew.
Today, is marginally better as I’m actually up and functioning. In a girl body. At a job that I only have roughly 14 hours remaining in. OH LIFE, you and your silly monkey wrenches in things…. >.<

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