Shaky on Every Front

My anxiety is taking over.

I have an appointment with a neurologist on December 1st. As this date approaches, the fear I have about it gets a stronger foothold. I realize that fear in the face of something that needs investigation is pretty counter-productive, but I'm still afraid. For years now, I have noticed an increasing tendency for my hands to shake. Sometimes it's inhibiting to performing tasks. You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I have very weak hands. Opening jars and bottles is an ordeal.

Of greater concern to me... the shaking has gotten significant enough for people to not only notice, but comment... a lot. I've inherited it from my father. He used to shake quite a bit. But according to my mother, he would never visit a doctor to have it examined. He didn't like doctors. He didn't like hospitals. No small irony that he died in one. But at any rate, if he did have some neurological disorder that he could genetically pass on to his son, I'm soon to find out. And I'm quite thoroughly terrified.

It could be nothing. It could be emotional stress. It could be that I need to set aside 10 minutes per day to scream and cry like a crazy person. As emotional as I am, I feel repressed. I feel like a person who's screaming and crying on the inside. Have you ever seen that episode of Six Feet Under where David has a waking dream of screaming during a funeral? I'm reminded of that.

Insecure thoughts are circling and rattling my cage. I'm thinking of how my parents had me late in life. I'm thinking of the legacy of poor health in each of their families. All of my uncles and aunts on my father's side, are all gone. 10 of them. All dead. My father was the youngest, and he's been gone for almost 19 years. The siblings on my mother's side including my mother are all still alive, and I figure if I can avoid the plague of obesity they all suffer from, I can dodge a few of the bullets they've all taken.

I have no delusions of living forever. And I don't think I'm afraid to die per say. I just don't want to be sick. I don't want to suffer and degenerate. Given the fact that I'm (as I've pointed out ad nauseum) alone in life, the prospect of being unable to care for myself is frightening. But I suppose no-more-so than the thought of sentencing a loved one to care for me.

Couple this (perhaps irrational) concern with the take-over at work... the approach of Christmas... my collapsing faith in any hope of a friendship/relationship/anything with Scooter... my overall stress of social interaction... and the pressure of merely existing....
And I think I've got a pretty good recipe for an all-systems-failure.

Taking a serious look at my health, and the potential to be really unwell, sheds a light on the fact that nothing really matters, but I don't know that I "live" that knowledge... so maybe a crisis, whether real or manufactured could be just what I need.

Shut it down. Shut it all down. Everything that's not key to my existence. The friends and family who don't bother. The job that, if lost, could force me into action I've never had the courage to take. Shut down the worry. Shut down the mother fucking future I cannot see and cannot change and could not affect otherwise. Shut it down. I don't want to think about it.

I want to be a tree. I want to long for nothing more than the sun hitting the greenery and the water that nourishes the roots. Fuck health problems. Fuck worry. Fuck being loved. Fuck being known. Fuck ever wanting to please another human being on this doomed ball of dirt. Fuck it all, for tomorrow I could be forced down by winds. Struck down by lightning. Cut down by some unwitting lumberjack. Today. This moment I still stand.

I stand and spout empty words about bravery and apathy I don't possess.

And I go that much more crazy.

*sigh*

I missed my appointment with Dr Truth today. Totally forgot about it. You'd think my mind would be on therapy given how stricken I feel. I'm going to be penalized 120-dollars for missing the appointment. Which makes me think I should stop making appointments in the event that I'm going to fuck-up and miss them. I can't afford to miss them. And it's not that I have issue with the concept. Dr Truth's time is valuable. I have to make appointments well in advance because his calendar is full. When someone just doesn't show up, it's a waste of his time. That doesn't alter the fact that I can't afford a 120-dollar fuck up. Yet, my co dependence asserts itself in the pattern of thought, that without him, I will have absolutely no one to listen to me fall apart. And my ego can't handle falling apart all by myself now, can it?

Last night I went to visit my soon-to-be-nephew in the hospital. He was in Toronto (or Markham rather) to have a hernia operated on. I didn't really want to go. It was a case of feeling it wouldn't matter to him whether I did or not anyway. I don't know him very well, and thought it might even seem weird that I would go and visit him, but... he was all alone with no family up here, in a boring hospital in the middle of nowhere. So I went. He's a nice kid. I like him a lot. Mind you, I took the opportunity to deliver the bad news that I can't afford to go to their destination wedding in January.
It took me an hour and a half to get there, and even longer to get home because I don't know the transit system up there very well, and missed a bus on the way back. It turned-out to be a blessing. I had to wait an hour, so I took refuge in a Shopper's Drug Mart and bought things I've been meaning to buy, but for whatever reason, haven't. I picked up the November issue of Details magazine with Chris Pine on the cover... band aids, tissues, peroxide, nail clippers (to replace the ones I sucked up the vacuum cleaner by accident) and probably most importantly... a bottle of Valerian Root. I wish I had some right now as a matter of fact. I've used it before for anxiety. There's really no reason why I should ever not be taking it. It brings on a wonderful wave of calm. Which makes up for it's horrible smell. (wet dog in a bottle anyone?)

I am grateful for my life. I am grateful for my problems that pale in comparison to the hardship that faces so many other people. I am grateful to be alive. To love and learn, and feel disenchanted with the whole ordeal. I am grateful to be creative enough to even wish to be a tree. And though it causes me self-afflicted misery... I am grateful to be self-aware. It simply must be better than ignorance and oblivion. Ok gratitude... stay with me. Balance me, ground me, heal me. I need your help so badly.

Rattling chains, fine-tuning the probe... unfurling the wings... the ghost-alien-angel will dwell among the humans another day.

Today's song of the day, is by Amy Grant. I will forever love this woman. I don't believe as she does, but if ever a true christian existed, I think it's her. So I'm not waiting for Jesus, but these lyrics speak to me anyhow. It's a great song.

Amy Grant - The Water

Quick sand
My heart is sinkin'
I try to run
But I can't stop thinkin'
I'm climbin' walls
I'm on the ceilin'
It's gonna take a miracle to heal me

I'm starin' down
Into the quarry
I see a stone
For every sorry
I'm on the edge
I'm goin' under
And after I die
I'm gonna rise from the water (oooh)

I wanna blast off
Let gravity disappear
I'm tired of fallin', fallin', fallin' from the weight of fear
Come and lift me up into the clean and clear
I'm waitin' on you, Jesus, in the water here
So come and wash me clean

The sky is red, there's
Blood on my hands
I can't deny
I'm guilty where I stand
The verdict's in
I hear them shoutin'
Send me a river to drown this mountain (oooh)

I wanna blast off
Let gravity disappear
I'm tired of fallin', fallin', fallin' from the weight of fear
Come and lift me up into the clean and clear
I'm waitin' on you, Jesus, in the water here
So come and wash me clean

Wash me clean

(Heaven wash me, Heaven wash me, Heaven wash me, Heaven wash me, Heaven wash me, Heaven wash me)

The Day I Had Nothing to Say (I think not.)

There's always something to write about isn't there? At times I'll be somewhere with no access to pen and paper let-alone a computer and struck by things I want to write down and express fully. Y'know thoughts I feel are really worthy of remembering because it's something I feel very passionate about, or found really funny, or think is really clever...

...And then there are the days when I plop my ass down in front of my computer, and all I can do is gripe about the way some woman smells on the subway... or like today... have nothing to say at all.

Ok... that's a lie... I never have absolutely "nothing" to say. I'm a little too verbose and opinionated to declare that with any kind of conviction. There are days however, when nothing I have to say feels like it'd be a very good thing to share. I guess this is one of those days.

I sit here now, thankful my day is drawing to a close with me doing something I enjoy after a day of not-so-enjoyable truths and circumstances.

For example... I thought my day was getting off to a reeeeeally bad start when Porthos doddled around outside this morning and would not poop to save his life (or my schedule). I yelled at him in the elevator and gave him a couple of smacks in anger. Which is really awful when I think about it. He's a dog. He obviously just didn't have to go. But all I could think was "oh you stupid animal! I've got to go to work and I won't be home for 9 hours, and now I can look forward to cleaning up a mess on the floor because you won't be able to hold it that long."
*grump grump grump* *grumble* *grumble* *stomp* *stomp*
Yeah... well... I got to work and talked to a friend on the phone who's in danger of being evicted from his apartment because he hasn't paid his rent in 2 months. He had an emotional breakdown two nights ago, and has one week to come up with over 2000 dollars. And that's something I can't even help him with. I wish I could, but I just don't have that kind of money.

By comparison, my life is not that bad. Not that I didn't have additional stress come at me quite steadily all day, but still... I've got a place to come home to when my day of unrealistic demands, and impossibly negative, bickering co-workers, comes to an end. And it's paid for. And I'm grateful.

It's strange how all the talk of financial crisis and economic downturn has finally started to affect me in ways I didn't think it would. I've got sales reps clambering for any business they can get their hands on and obsessing over every minute detail, because business has dropped-off considerably. And they're obsessing over current clients they don't want to lose, and those clients are stressing about lost business, and of course it's "because their advertising doesn't work anymore", and not because people might put off buying a new car, or having plastic surgery, or laser hair removal, or may even rethink going out to a ridiculous bar to pay 20-dollars to get in, and 10 dollars per drink to enjoy themselves.

I know it's tough. Seriously, I sympathize, 'cause it's going to get tougher for us too as a business, but at some point you have to take a step back, and look at the blinking, shining, oozing mess of EXCESS that modern civilization has come to expect as a norm and a right-of-passage... ...and say "yeah... it had to end some time didn't it"?

You can try to sell all the crap and luxuries you want, but as a matter of self-preservation, "many" people (with more modest incomes, or spiraling credit card debt) WILL come to the realization that there are crucial priorities to ensure for yourself and your loved ones. Priorities a tad stronger than trading in your perfectly reliable 2 year old car for a new one just because your lease is up and you like the smell of new plastic and leather.

At any rate, I'm expected to come up with brilliant new ways to shovel snow in the Arctic when really... these businesses have to "wait it out", or "find something else to sell that consumers need - not want".

Sorry, I hate being preachy... even though I won't shut-up about it beyond my apology. Going to work lately feels like watching people drown.

Don't let me paint a pious picture by any means. I'm not immune to the credit-consumer-disease. I'm extremely grateful I still get by and pay my bills on time. Likewise, I'm starting to realize the threat of the economy on my own job. We're not untouchable. Media companies are suffering all over Canada, and it's not like we're a ratings giant. At the very least, this may well be the event that crushes our music format. I'm not privy to that information, but the possibility is there. Better the format to disappear than our jobs though. Of this much I'm certain. And I don't work for stupid people, so I'm sure it's crossed their minds too.

Funny how I sat down thinking I had nothing to say, isn't it?

Time for more Oz. Which is getting a little dull sadly. The characters are like Kleenex. They're running out of ways to kill everyone. Another shank - Another day. And I've still got 18 episodes to go before the series finale.

Song of the day... (yes, I really do like this song - even though it's strategically posted for ironic purposes given the topic of my post. It's a very catchy hip hop dittay!) ...

PS... Porthos was really good. No mess to clean up when I got home. That much I didn't deserve after being so angry with him this morning. My reward should be someone standing over me while I sit on a public toilet... camera pointed at me saying "go on... poop" "and make it quick, I've missed four subway trains".

9th Ward - Add Me Up

I got my Gucci shade on with my Gucci tennis shoes
I can hear nigga's whisperin' that that look Gucci do
I say yeah this me (uh huh,) who else it gon' be
Quarter mil', add me up, from my head to my feet
Thousands on my shoes, thousands on my pants (uh huh)
Same thing goes for the guap in my hand (come on)
Bling bling on my wrist, bling bling on my neck (uh, uh, uh)
Showin' 'em my teeth, yes nigga I'mma flex
Now people be like damn, what he gon' do next
I know one thing I ain't gon' do and that's god damn stress (yeah)
Got my goons on my side, got them two's on deck
Like 3-6 mafia I'm dope boy fresh (uh)

I think I want to buy that there (add me up)
But I know I'm gon' buy this here (add me up)
I think I need the one with the ice (add me up)
But the gold one looks so right (add me up)
I think I want to buy that there (add me up)
But I know I'm gon' buy this here (add me up)
I think I need the one with the ice (add me up)
But the gold one looks so right (add me up)

D-Boy swagger, see your status (hey)
See me on that block, tool on my bladder (alright)
Ho's know my face, niggas know my name
My bank grown up, now they wanna see me change (nah)
Keep it real, I'm a keep gettin' dollars (hey)
Keep it throw-away, buy a couple more Impala's
Either way I talk I'll be swear I got shorty
That thing on that showroom floor, I bought it
Ho's lookin' at me, like I owe 'em somethin'
I just bought a few things (oh nigga stop stuntin')
What you mean Gu, I ain't doin' nothin' new (nah)
I been gettin' money (rarr rarr rarr)

I think I want to buy that there (add me up)
But I know I'm gon' buy this here (add me up)
I think I need the one with the ice (add me up)
But the gold one looks so right (add me up)

Never Done

I'm not sure why I did what I did tonight, but nonetheless, I've turned down plans to get together with an aforementioned superficial friend in favour of being alone this evening. So here I sit on a Friday night with nothing in particular to do, and feeling rather mopey.

Of course I've been feeling mopey since Wednesday night. A likely side-effect of going off the meds I suppose. Which causes me more than a little bit of dread, because I'd hate to have to go back on them and endure the zombie state of reintroducing them to my system. *sigh* It's very difficult to admit to depression as an actual "illness". Even now, after enough years (taking pills) for me to lose count, I still feel like antidepressants are a cop-out for me. Like they're an excuse to shut-down and not deal with my real feelings. I have to remind (and justify to myself) that depression isn't "merely feeling sad". It's not some event that happens along that you have to mourn to overcome. And yet, I perpetuate my own stigma, by feeling the need to be pill-free. Truthfully, I don't like them. I don't like the sexual side-effects more than anything else, but I also hate the muted colour they help you see the world in. It took a year of suggestion from my doctor to get me to go on them because I just didn't want to. And I perish the thought of actually admitting to her that I've taken my own initiative to abandon them. I honestly think I'd rather drown in emotion than monkey around with different varieties as replacements or alternatives. I want to accept my sadness as a part of me that I can control and subdue and occasionally revel in when things get too hard to bare. It's one of my design flaws. Something I have to learn to love about myself.

Facing facts though... I'm crying... a LOT. Like every day. And that can't possibly be normal. In sticking with my cognitive therapy I do try to limit myself to a short period, and then just letting it go by rationalizing my grief and sadness, and countering it with gratitude for all I have to be thankful for. Gratitude is empowering and humbling. And I do have so much to be thankful for, that's it's really an exercise in blatant "assholishness" to dwell on everything that makes me miserable. My life is good. 'Better than good. I just have to keep my sight set on that.

I'm just so affected by people and things. I find it virtually impossible to not be. People are really awful to one another... and you don't even have to pay attention to the news to see it manifested in so many things. Malice and cruelty, selfishness and greed, fear, hate and just plain ol' apathy.

Of course that's not my only source of woe. I'm lonely. Mind-numbingly, aching for companionship, and someone to just take a genuine interest in me. But then, that could be labelled ego I suppose. Since this past 8 months has been the first time in so many years that I've actually been alone I think I'm feeling the isolation with a little more magnitude than I would otherwise.

Anyhow... woe is me... boo hoo hoo... just venting and giving words to some unexpressed thoughts. I will be ok. I always am. And with good reason. I am blessed and thankful. No more dwelling.

Incomplete - Alanis Morissette (live video in link)

One day I'll find relief
I'll be arrived and I'll be a friend to my friends who know how to be friends

One day I'll be at peace
I’ll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt

One day I will be healed
I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time
Of being forever incomplete

One day, my mind will retreat, and I'll know god and I'll be constantly one with her night dusk and day
One day I'll be secure, like the women I see on their 30th anniversaries

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time
Of being forever incomplete

Ever unfolding
Ever expanding
Ever adventurous and torturous
But never done

One day, I will speak freely
I'll be less afraid
And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art
One day I will be faith-filled
I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and whole

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time
Of being forever incomplete