onemoredayonelessdollar

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

Struggling to keep it together, even with the meds. I think a big part of it is the lack of sleep. That and the hiccups are overwhelming to the point I can focus on anything and I'm falling asleep on the job.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

It's so annoying trying to do the things that you're "supposed to do" to help yourself with mental health or medical stuff. It always feels like there are so many barriers in the way to get the help you need, and like the system is designed to make it nearly impossible.

For example, requiring an intake appointment, but not allowing it to be scheduled ahead, and making it first come first serve, with an arbitrary head count cap. All while only having 2 time slots available, both of which are during work hours. So, I have to sit here and hope, contrary to everything I'd prefer, that someone doesn't qualify. That way I can talk to a person, and MAYBE start getting the help I need. But only if someone else can't.

I hate this. I wish I could just get on someone's calendar, so that I could put it on my calendar, and know that the time would be spent usefully. I'm trying to do the things I'm supposed to, but it's so damn hard. And it sounds like it's just as hard for everyone else.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I really hate the way I mentally interact with medication. I have such an overwhelming fear of addiction and dependency that's colored pretty much my whole life. From trading cards, to porn, to crafting, and all of the drug fear that's been shoved into my brain growing up, it's inescapable. Especially with drugs, I've been conditioned from every angle to fear it. The DARE campaigns, the church lessons, the Word of Wisdom discussions, the gossip about people who we knew that were addicts. The commercials about "which one's more dead."

And then I have my "addictive personality." There is a family history -- somewhere, supposedly -- of alcoholism, and my uncle did pass away from it last year. For me personally, it's been an unhealthy hyper fixation to various things that I already wrote.

Weirdly though, I wonder how much of those habits were actual addictions, and how much were special interests that I hyper fixated on that people didn't like for some reason. Reading fantasy novels, collecting card games, wood working, YouTube videos, DND, and even porn. I wonder what would have happened if instead of being called addicted or shamed for diving head first into things, I had been taught tools to explore those things healthily and to completion.

I always got in trouble whenever I started to get too deep into something. When I took my own earned money and used it to collect Yu-Gi-Oh cards, I got shown the dollar amount and was told it was bad. No discussion on intentionality or healthy limits, just full stop bad. When I spent all my time reading, it was turned into a punishment, and my books were taken away from me at the slightest infraction. And obviously, when I got into watching and reading porn, all hell broke loose.

From my parents, my teachers, my church, and even from my ex wife, I have been getting reinforced with the idea that I can't control my hyper fixations. But if I really have such a tendency towards addiction, why has my experience with alcohol and marijuana been so easy?

I have been trying more alcohol in the last year or so. I have been consciously choosing every time I drank, and I have set clear limits with myself each time. I've stuck to those limits, even in the face of real peer pressure from people that I trust and care about. I've safely worked to find what my limits around alcohol are, and I've been responsible every time I've had anything to drink. With weed, I haven't tried the joints any time they've been passed around, because I'd already set the boundaries on how I wanted to try it. When the opportunity came to try it safely in that way (medical grade edible with people that I trusted), I tried a small amount, catalogued the experience in my brain, and determined it wasn't for me. I've never been interested in vaping or smoking, so I've just never done it.

Honestly, I've shown real control and intentionally with medically addictive substances on a scale that is quite impressive when I write it out. So, why am I so scared of my mental meds?

I've taken the benzo that I'm on twice under medical supervision, and three times on my own. Each time, I have seen notable positive results in my mental health, and I've been able to better handle the struggles of the day. I don't spiral when I make a mistake, and I'm able to fix those mistakes to a degree that I'm proud of. I've been able to start and complete tasks that my anxiety made completely untenable for weeks within an hour or so. I've handled radio silence from my partners better, and I've been doing some things that I love that I haven't been able to do in nearly a year. The med is helping, and I'm in abject terror every time I take it, because of the risk of addiction.

But I don't think I should be. I have shown a level of control and restraint with alcohol that really impresses me, and I can extend those same skills to my mental meds. I can impose a healthy limit on how much to take and stick to it, because I've done so before. Nor is taking something addictive inherently evil, the way it's been presented to me.

I don't like the argument of "you wouldn't say a person using a crutch is evil," because a crutch isn't medically addictive. But I think the reality that people engage with addictive substances safely every day is a much better argument for me , because I can directly see and experience that truth.

I'm going to work on shifting that mindset, and setting those limits that I've set before with this new med. The first one being I am allowed to take up to one dose a day. On days when I don't experience the thoughts it's intended to address, I am not required to take one. However, on days when I see the thought patterns emerge, I am allowed and encouraged to take one dose that day When The Thought Occurs. If I have taken a dose that day, I will wait until the next day before I consider taking another.

I'm also going to record my thoughts here when I get to that point, so that I increase the intentionality of each dose. My goal is to treat this the same way I treat alcohol, in that every drink or dose is thought out and taken for a specific reason.

And if I end up needing a dose every day, that's ok. It says so on the prescription that I can take on every day as needed, so I am both setting my own boundaries and following the guidelines of an expert in the field.

I can do this, and it's ok to do this, and if I end up needing to have the med on hand for the rest of my life, it's no different from alcohol being available for the rest of my life, and I will be just as aware and intentional with both.

This is shockingly one of the more positive posts on this blog. I think the meds are helping more than I would have even expected.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

You know you're doing seriously poorly when you're considering texting and asking your mom if she's free.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I'm so tired of money. Of feeling like I made the worst decision I've ever made, and it being the correct decision at the time. I hate being tied to a car. I didn't want to drive at all to begin with. I'm so glad I got to meet my partners because I had a car, but it feels like everything that's gone wrong is tied to the damn car. I can't get back on my feet financially. I can't pay my partner back. I can't enjoy exploring the city the same way I used to. I feel like I can't improve myself the way I want. I can barely afford to fucking breathe.

I wish I could just sell the damn thing, pay off my loan, and go back to the kind of hard that didn't make absolutely everything in my life way out of reach.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

Since I'm therapist-posting recently:

Legitimately self-compassion is the biggest mental health life hack of all time. I'm NOT talking about self-esteem. You do NOT have to like yourself one bit. You don't have to believe that you're a good person who deserves good things. You just have to believe that you're a person who deserves the things all people deserve.

You can't get from "I'm the Worst" to "I'm a worthy and lovable person" without passing through "I'm just a regular fuckup like everybody else."

Try it on. If you're really addicted to being mean to yourself, you can start by framing it as I'm Not Special. Embrace being a regular fuckup like everybody else.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

About ten years ago I decided that the next step I needed to take in my life was to accept and explore what it meant to be a failure and to have failed. This infuriated almost everybody in my life and clearly terrified a lot of people. People do not want you to accept failure. They dont want you to like... Sit with and think about it and pick it up and turn it arpund in your hands and really examine it. They want you to keep throwing yourself against the impossible walls until your body explodes! They do not want you to say "alright then, I've failed. What does that mean for me? Im still here. What does the life of someone who has failed look like?"

This makes people very angry and panicky.

My mental health improved in ways it had not in the previous DECADE once I stopped. And. Sat. With failure. And thought about what my failure ... Was. And looked at the structures that produced it and examined them critically.

It is so taboo to fail and admit it openly and talk about it. It is so taboo to talk about or think about failure in an accepting way rather than hiding it shamefully until you experience a degree of success in some area which allows you to present the past failure as "a stepping stone" to your current situation. Fuck that. We are put in positions of guaranteed failure by society every day and then punished and shamed for it. Lets fucking talk about failure

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I wish I wasn't so drained all the time. I wish it wasn't awful to attempt sleeping. I am really looking forward to having them with me tomorrow night, because going to sleep alone is heartbreaking and painful.

Every day feels unbearable on the horizon. I never want the new day to come.

And I burned my fucking hand because I wasn't thinking/ADHD.

I get to see them both tomorrow night. I get to sleep held in their arms, and feel their warmth against my skin. I have at least that to look forward to, if nothing else. I can make it one more day.

With one less dollar.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

There are too many days that I fight to find a reason to go on. I don't know what I'm doing pretty all the time. I'm shit at doing the things I need to do. I just want to curl up with one of the two of them and hide there, but I can't. Every week I can't plan effectively, because my work refuses to give us advanced notice on what our schedule will be.

I want cuddles. I want to be with the people I love. I need sleep and rest. And I can't afford any of it. I have 2 hours left in my shift, and I'm losing it.

I'm so fucking tired of it all

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I really wish I didn't have to be alone tonight. I really wish I didn't have to be alone every night, in a bed built for 3. I really wish I didn't desperately need to be close to them, only for them to sleep somewhere else. I wish I wasn't so needy, so unable to feel good or whole without them near me.

I wish that I got to spend more time with them. I wish that the time I had set aside for her hadn't been cut short and stolen by circumstance. I wish that we could have rescheduled to make up for that lost time.

I miss them. I miss them whenever I'm not near them. I want them to be happy, want them to spend time with the other people they care about, want them to have space if they need it. But I still miss them. I feel so needy, so overbearing in how much I need them. I feel so unstable right now, and I wish I had them to lean on more. But I don't want to stress them out, overburden them, or push them away.

I want to hold them. I want them to hold me. I need help holding myself together, and I feel bad that I need that help. I'm so tired, but I can't bear the thought of sleeping alone again, and again, and again. I wish I could cuddle with them and know that they love me and feel safe in their arms. And I feel bad for wanting that, for wishing I was with them.

I'm so glad for the time I get with them. I'm so happy that I get to be in their lives. I'm so glad that they want to be a part of mine. It makes me so happy to see a message from either of them. It can brighten my whole day to read the words "I love you, honey." I can talk with him for hours on every topic. I adore them times we try new foods together. I am so excited to plan our NYC trip in a few months. A hug from either one of them can get me through the days when nothing else would work. I am thrilled when she tells me about the things she's accomplished and the goals she's on track to achieve. I am honored that he wants me to be a part of designing his project and testing it out. I can feel their love radiating in those moments when we're close, and I get so happy, giddy it the wave. I'm so glad that she shares her thoughts with me, some of her hard times. I'm so honored that she trusts me enough to relax, rest, and sleep around me. I'm so pleased that he can shed his armor around me, and I can hold him close. I look forward to every moment with them. It gets me through the days and weeks, knowing that I get to see them throughout. I am thrilled that she wants to introduce me to her parents, and that they both want to meet my brother and his partner. I am so glad for this, for as long as I get to be a part of it. I hope I get to be a part of it for years and years.

I am so glad that they love me.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I've proven myself, haven't I?

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

i want to be a vampire so bad. it would open up a whole new world of procrastination. puts off finishing a novel for 100 years. i don’t do the dishes for 20. oh wait i don’t have dishes because i suck blood. another fucking win

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I realized part of why it hurt so much. My love didn't count. The way I showed my love didn't count. It wasn't just lacking what they needed -- it didn't register at all.

The acts of service didn't count. The times I shared the weight of decades of pain didn't count. The small moments of togetherness and domesticity didn't count. Every ounce of physical, mental, and emotional effort that I gave apparently did not count. They occupied every moment of my existence that I could spare, but it wasn't enough.

You deserve someone who can give you the grand moments you want. You deserve to be loved the way that matters to you. You deserve the world, and the person who can give it to you. You deserve your fantastical dates and spontaneity from someone with the mental, emotional, and financial resources to back it up. That wasn't me, and may never be me, and I can accept that.

Please, though, remember the moments. Let my love count. Understand the times I chose to spend with you were because I loved you. I had little to give, but the little I had I gave to you -- my time, my effort, my ears, my arms, my shoulder, my car, my concern for your well-being. To me, you weren't just a girlfriend. You were a partner. And to me, that shows in the day-to-day moments. The times I went out of my way to help where I could. How I wanted to learn about the things you love, so I could share that love with you. The moments walking with you in the grocery store, deciding what we would make together. The rides to and from wherever, the only financial support I could give. Doing your dishes, because I knew the stress you were under and it was something I could do to ease it. Supporting you when you needed to make hard decisions, and trusting that you could make them. Knowing that whatever you chose, I would work with you to accomplish them in whatever way I could.

I know I didn't do many grand things. I did not have the mental, emotional, physical, or financial resources to do many. But I saw you as a potential forever partner, and that is how I show my love -- as a day-to-day partner in the little moments of life.

I hope you find your perfect lover. I hope they can give you the kind of affection and attention that you want and need. I understand that I did not have the tools or spoons to be that person for you, so I want you to find the person who does. And I hope when you find that person, that the day-to-day moments of love count too. Because that was all I could give you, and it didn't seem to count for me. And if it doesn't ever count for you then I don't think you'll ever find the forever partner you deserve. And the hought that you never find a true forever partner hurts too much to bare.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

Failing to keep it together this morning. Got my first UE check, and it's immediately gone after paying past-due bills. I'm trying to make it to the end of this week at least, but I don't know how much longer I can do this.

[onemoredayonelessdollar]

I'm trying, but I'm so tired. I'm tired of trying to keep it together. I'm tired of disappointing the people I love. I'm tired of feeling useless. I have a chance to get back to work, but I have to make it 3 more days to find out if it's even a possibility. I'm drained, empty, exhausted. I can't eat much. I can barely sleep. I don't want to sleep, because it means I have to wake up again. And every time it feels like I'm doing what I can to improve my life, something else goes wrong.

I'm so tired of it all. I don't know why I'm still here.