It's a GAD GAD World
Friday, April 22, 2005

It's been an interesting week.

Monday: Interviewed for the position where I'd be replacing the pregnant woman. Didn't seem as bad as I thought it would be. One of the ppl who wanted to meet me couldn't make it, so I may have to go back for a second interview.

Tuesday: Ben & Jerry's Free Cone Day. I managed to hit 4 of the 8 B&J locations in Manhattan. After hitting the 23rd st store I decided I needed a break, so I went to Barnes & Noble, used the restrooom, & spent about an hour reading "Please Stop Laughing At Me" by Jodee Blanco. It brought back a lot of bad memories. Then I saw my new psychiatrist for the final time. She seems to think she can get me disability payments. I think she's nuts. But she did write me a shitload of prescriptions--klonopin, neurontin, and doxepin. I filled one of the prescriptions at Duane Reade, hit the B&J on 43rd & 8th, then went to see CG's group perform. Talked with CG afterwards. He needed help with his bowtie, so I got to spend about 45 seconds fondling the back of his neck. Too bad I was too depressed at the time to enjoy the moment. The depression also caused me to be a real bitch to CG's brother, who's also in the group. I still feel bad about that.

Wednesday: While I'm on my way to another pharmacy to fill the rest of the prescriptions, my cell phone goes off. It was my ex-doctor. He's running a study on Buspar (a drug he refused to put me on 2 years ago because he said it was "a worthless drug"). He's willing to include me in the study. That's the good news, because it means I can still get treatment after my insurance expires at the end of this month. The bad news is in order to qualify, I have to stay off meds for 2 weeks.

Thursday (yesterday): I went back to Prestigious Institution to attend a conference. As I was leaving I ran into a student. He said, "I hear you've decided to leave us." I responded, "It wasn't my decision." Then I ended up telling him more than I probably should have, but at this point I don't give a shit. Then when I got home there was mail from the Unemployment office waiting for me. They're not going to count my Prestigious Institution wages, which means my weekly check is going to be really small.

Friday (today): My 3rd day without meds. I'm miserable, but not so miserable that I can't take it anymore. I'm trying now to work up the motivation to take a shower, get dressed, and go register at an agency.

I'll be seeing CG at the comedy club tonight. After tonight I probably won't see him for a while. That makes me sad. But hey, I'm depressed--EVERYTHING makes me sad right now.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Dear CG,

After I swore I wasn't going to email you this weekend I went ahead and did it anyway. It's now been more than 24 hours since I did it and you still haven't responded.

I think you and I got off on the wrong foot. And I'd really like the chance to fix that.

Subtlety isn't one of my strong points. I don't know how to be subdued and tactful and all that (although I've gotten better at it over the years). All I can do is be completely honest. Sometimes that gets me into trouble. And if I were actually sending this message to you instead of being a coward and putting it in my blog where you'll never see it, being honest with you would probably get me into trouble too. But here goes.

I like you. I don't know you very well, but you seem like a nice guy and I would like to get to know you better. I think we have a lot in common. We're both smart people with very healthy senses of humor, we have similar tastes in music, I think we'd have a lot to talk about if we ever sat down and talked. And I think in time we could be good friends.

Unfortunately, last week you got to know me a lot better than you should have. Thanks to fate and circumstance, you got to see my bad side before you really had a chance to see my good side. I wish I could take that back and erase it, but I can't . What happened, happened. I needed someone that night, and you were in the wrong place at the right time. You ended up being my therapist that night whether you wanted to be or not. And while I'm very grateful that you were there for me that night, it's not a position you should have had to be in. And for that I am sorry.

Yes, CG, I have my flaws. So do you. So does everybody. We are all human beings, and as such we are all inherently imperfect. But along with my bad qualities, I also have a lot of good qualities, just like you do. And I would love to have the chance to show you those qualities, just as I'd like to learn about yours.

Look at it this way: That night I blurted out to you that I have a psychiatric disorder. That means you already know the second worst thing there is to know about me. (For the record, the worst thing is something I will only discuss with a man with whom I am romantically involved. So if you want to find that out, you'd better start buying me flowers and taking me to dinner. Otherwise, fuggedaboudit.)

Bottom line: You can be my friend, or you can be my therapist, but you can't be both. And while you were an excellent therapist that night, I'd much rather have you as my friend. Besides, I' don't know how comfortable I'd be with a therapist who tells bad Bruce Lee jokes!

Much as I'd like to send you this letter, I know it would freak you out. So I'm just going to lay low and stay out of sight for a while. In the meantime, you should do a google search on generalized anxiety disorder. You might learn something.

For what it's worth, you rockdude...

Saturday, April 16, 2005

That's right, the Big Boss has fired me from Prestigious Institution. I really don't want to go into the details because I'm sick of it and I want to put it behind me. What I will say is that I've got 4 people (potentially 5) who are willing to be references for me. That speaks volumes against the 2 people (Big Boss and her clueless cohort) who think I suck--one of whom is retiring in a few months, the other of whom is plotting her escape even as we speak.

I got the news on Friday. Then I went downtown & cried on Cute Guy's shoulder--literally and figuratively. He became my therapist that night whether he wanted to or not.

After getting over the initial shock, I'm feeling less stressed than I have in weeks. As God is my witness I tried my best in this job. I really wanted it to work. I compromised my health in order to try and make it work. I fought so long and so hard to get hired at this place that I was willing to sacrifice my health over it. But in the end it wasn't enough.

Last night I went to see CG again--he let me sneak into the show for free--and gave him a gift. It was a CD in a can (inside joke) along with some home-baked cookies and a thank-you note. We didn't have much time to talk, but he was appreciative.

Next month it will have been ten years since I obtained my master's degree. I will also be turning 35. And my life is nowhere. I still have no career, and I still can't find a man to save my life. What good am I in the world?

I am finally accepting that I will never have a career in higher education. God knows I tried my best. I have shed obscene amounts of blood sweat and tears for this profession, but the verdict is clear--the profession does not want me.

So what am I going to do until I mercifully drop dead? God only knows. I don't think I'm being unreasonable. I just want a job that pays me enough to live on and doesn't give me an ulcer. And maybe a boyfriend while I'm at it.

So far I have a few job prospects. Prospect 1: subbing for an admin on maternity leave at a jewelry company. The good news is it would be steady work for 3 months. THe bad news is they want me to interview Monday, wait until mid-May to train, then be on hold until Mommy goes into labor. And how am I supposed to support myself until then? Maybe if i qualify for unemployment I'll be OK...

Prospect 2: Part time position at a cat clinic. I think I'd like the job, but the vet expects the person he hires to stay for a long time, and I don't think he thinks I'll do that. He's right. (HELLO!! YOu're offering a part time position with no benefits, and you expect a person to stick with that forever???)

I would give anything just to sit and have a conversation with CG. And not necessarily a 'therapeutic' conversation. I would love just to sit and talk with him about whatever. But I think I scared him away after last Friday. He's still speaking to me (that in itself amazes me), but I think any chance I may of had with him (yeah right, like I ever had a chance) is gone forever. I can still count on one hand the # of real conversations I've had with him, and last week I blurted out that my parents disowned me, that I'm a WTC survivor, and worst of all that I have a psych disorder. Not that the psych thing is the worst thing he could have learned about me, but it was the worst thing I told him. The worst thing he could have learned about me is that I've never had a real boyfriend, but that's something I'd only share with a boyfriend, and even then only if I had to.

I left a phone msg on my ex-psychiatrist's voice mail the day I got the bad news. He sent me an email on Monday saying I could make an appointment with him if I wanted to. I told him thanks, but I couldn't afford him. Bastard. He probably did it just to clear his conscience. He knows perfectly well I can't afford treatment without health insurance--that's why he treated me for nearly TWO FUCKING YEARS!!

I think I'm going to curl up right here on the floor and cry for a while.

PS--If ANYBODY is reading these posts, could you please post a comment? I just want to know that somebody out there gives a damn.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

So I'm blogging just to kill time till it's time for the news. Then maybe I'll fall asleep to kill time until it's time to get up tomorrow morning. Then it's grocery shopping, laundry, & get ready for another week of work. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The good news is I saw the cute guy yesterday. The bad news is he was really busy & didn't have much time to talk to me. But we did talk. One step at a time, I guess.

Not like it's going to lead anywhere. Like I said in my last post, I'm a complete loser when it comes to men. But he gives my eternally-sex-starved brain something to think about.

There's a possibility that I may be able to do some business with Cute Guy. I sent him an email last night as soon as I got home. He still hasn't emailed me back. *sigh* I'm just like Charlie Brown hovering by the mailbox on Valentine's Day. Pathetic.

Whenever my ex-psychiatrist & I would talk about drug options and I would balk at taking an SSRI, he would always assume that it was because of the sexual side effects. God, I wanted to smack him. I was too ashamed to tell him that a drug with sexual side effects would be a blessing in my case. I'd give anything to be able to rip my sex drive out of my body. Then I wouldn't care so much about not having anyone in my life.

Another thing I was too ashamed to tell him is that riluzole (the drug he used in his study) had precisely that effect on me. And it was wonderful. The nausea & the raised LFTs weren't so hot, and it didn't do a whole lot for my anxiety, but the reprieve from craving a warm male body was fantastic.

Another treatment update: My new psychiatrist is slowly weaning me off Namenda. I'm not happy about that, but apparently there are some very serious long-term side effects with this drug. Not that I blame my ex for putting me on it--Namenda was brand new when he put me on it, and there's no way that he nor anyone else could have known about these side effects at the time. We're talking heart attacks and strokes, folks. As my new psych put it, if I were an old lady with dementia and a life expectancy of less than 10 years, this wouldn't be an issue. But I'm only 34. While I firmly believe that this drug has helped me, it's obviously not something I would want to stay on indefinitely.

In job news, I was saved from a meeting with the Big Boss on Thursday when she ran late at a couple of other meetings. Then she took Friday off. That's the good news. The bad news is our meeting has been re-scheduled for Monday. *sigh*

It's been raining steadily all day today. I wanted to go grocery shopping, but there was no way I was doing it in this downpour. So I've spent the entire day inside the apartment. I haven't spoken to anyone except my landlord when he came for the rent check.

OK, I've killed enough time. Time to watch the news...

Powered by Blogger