The Internet has changed lives in so many ways, but for people with mental health issues they normally keep quiet, this new communication tool has allowed us to live multiple lives simultaneously. The Internet allows us to carry on more than one conversation at the same time, with different people – all secretly.
I can be standing in front of you talking, while texting my friend every few seconds with updates, opinions and reviews of the world that are unrelated.
I can post ion my Facebook wall – Happy Monday Everyone! It’s Pi Day! Go have some pie… and then send this message to one of my other friends, who knows I often lead a very sad, frustrated life in secret.
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Sent to a friend who I discuss work with.
I official declare today FINAL FAKE VACATION day. I need this, and I want this… I just keep running away and hiding, but some days I agree it is the right choice. I have significant breakthroughs in thought and potential and happiness, and then the crushing blow that I can not move from this square on my playing board. I had a very bad week. I went up and down emotionally and started many attempts at a first step… but the world keeps putting me in check, and my mind keeps telling me… why am I even bothering to hope.
I am safe. I am sober. I am sad… but I am not ready to take on this disaster today. My slump down was lower than usual and will take some rests in between each run of the ladder as I come back up to surface. I made some mistakes. Some may cost me. We’ll see.
My philosophy for 2016 that I started at my 52nd birthday wasn’t quite my best. The one at my 51st birthday was better… but in the end, they all fail, and I keep alone my rut, looping the earth maintaining happiness and virus free computers for 5 senior citizens and 500 mail customers.
For the first year in my life, my sustain income and people are being screwed. I am not even maintaining.
Even Paxil can’t keep up when I keep messing with the dosage and times… and throw curve balls at it every weekend.
People will be mad. I will cry, and then try to win them back days later with some half assed rush work I’m not happy with, and the cycle will loop. I am sad that my talent of making people smile, even works with lies and apologies. It’s bad when you learn that powerful secret of life. People want to forgive and allow coverups. People can learn to abuse that.
I don’t want to be the guy who fails you, and then saves the day.
And when I say that’s OK and blow off a week or two of hard work and everybody is mad… I have to consider that isn’t acceptable, or it will become my new norm, and at least having a content happy stable place to coast is vital.. I can have ups and downs, but if my stable is under my acceptable minimum all year…
My Monday is a sad one today, and experience has told me it’s going to be a bad one. I have to figure out how to use this, and try yet another idea to get out of this square.
I wrote a blog piece I was too afraid to share this morning where I compared myself to a dog. I am happy playing fetch. I know I could be herding sheep, but there are no sheep here and my master throw a ball, so it’s great. We both like it. At age 50, (7 in dog years) I now live alone in a basement for the first time. I know I could still herd sheep, but I have no master. When the phone rings, it’s like somebody is calling to play fetch. I get excited. I listen, I solve, I hang up. I lay bag on the run… dreaming of herding sheep and waiting to play fetch…
Except that I can’t know for sure, but idle dogs seems to still be happy waiting… I feel unused and a failure if I can’t play fetch and make somebody happy.
There is little you can say to help TODAY.. but I want to speak, either later, after some morning tears.. or tomorrow for sure. I hope blue sky comes son.
I would like to say, drugs are not the reason for the depression. They are certainly an issue, but in some ways they just blend a lot of existing emotions and ideas together, and help me look at my life from different perspectives. Drugs are the reason for THIS SPECIFIC depression today, and for a few days.. but I use these down times to make me feel bad as a tool. Sober Jeff coasts unhappy, but not unhappy enough. A drug weekend does two things. Its shows me clearly that confident Jeff is awesome and can exist in a social society just great. Sober Jeff needs a goal… and a torture to drop to, to figure it out. I do not like my current drug use… but when alone in silence with no friends and a complex that derives happiness from the environment and people around me, I have to figure out a way… so I evaluate my choices and alone… I choose short term happiness with the penalty of feeling like a loser and letting people down tomorrow… and leave the horrible stuff for sober Jeff to deal with Monday… or Tuesday… or Wednesday… or when that client finally gives me an ultimatum.
And… I will admit it. It takes a worse amount than it used to. I am aware… and a bit scared… but I want a bit more time before I show up for launch date, and 10 friends are waiting with letters and brochures… that all want to help. Drugs are a part of the problem, and must be monitored. They are very close to being a whole new problem. I can not afford more than one weekend like this a month. I should have one a year.. but with people. (grin)
This weekend I learned something and it will have an effect on my next steps. If I move at glacial speeds, it’s still moving.
Lets talk Tuesday for a while. I hope. I want.
Oh look, A Zeppelin…
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I end it there and sent the email. Second later, my other best friend posp open in a chat window from his Phone.
HEY.
Rather than reply Hey… I am still in verbose testy deep mode, and I spill to him in a long message as well…
Jeff Goebel: I think I figured out a lot this weekend.
DS: oh?
Jeff Goebel: I think it comes down to… I no longer like my compatible base life that I always fall back on when every single one of my crazy attempts to break free and move froward fails, I’ve lways fallen back with the failure and been able to say, well at least I have my regular life.
DS: okay….
Jeff Goebel: But my regular life doesn’t pay the bills, and iot doesn’t compare well to my fabulous make believe reality or any reality I can make up in my head as a pssoble fture. I saw I don’t move forward… but the truth is, all my goals will be hard work, and probably fail anyway… so… this is a hard depressed, tired sore Monday…. but a mental health move step forward. Each realization helps.
Jeff Goebel: I may give up Frogstar
Jeff Goebel: Making my customers happy is not only not enough… I’m not making them happy anymore. It’s a weird position to be in where I have a job that is making people happy… but deep down, the truth is, if I was a real support person, I would not recooemdn you hire me. Are yopu kidding? I’m a fraud at the tech side. I’m just a liaison that smiles… and I’m doing it worse each year.
Jeff Goebel: Today I would count as one of the worst mental health days I’ve had in a long time. I had a weekend of ups and downs but my down is severe, so of course I had appontmenmts, goals, diners, and even two parties I’d said yes too… so now my vision of myself is a fat slobby computer nerd who lives in a basement that looks like it is a storage space for somebody else until you see a bed. I’m in a my life doesn’t suck… but I wanted to be more than a junkie image for people to see me as.
Jeff Goebel: My persona is losing it’s magic and depressed Jeff peeks through. The world sees behind the curtain. The great and Powerful Jeff isn’t really a happy guy when you’re not standing ion front of him/.
Jeff Goebel: That wall oif being happy and social is a terror today. Your sadness is a terror. The line you feed me that your kids will be upset is a terror. Today, in my head I believe I never enjoy that. It is an act of my persona to be happy and make everyone smile, but insiode, I am an engine of poses and face expressions and great punchlines that is actually a machine generating calculated responces. It is work.
Jeff Goebel: Dissapointing you hurts us both on levels, but I choose it as the earier options, and even if I expect two more asks, I have programmed the guarts at the gate to refuse entry.
Jeff Goebel: I am content in my sorrow for now, in the castle tower looking out at the world I may one day rejoin…
He knows this mood… He is sad, because his daughter’s birthday might have been fun… I would have smiled and laughed and made them laugh, but it would have been like a toy that makles and smiles and makes you laugh when you’re holding it, but when the program runs out, it sits quietly dreaming of herding sheep or playing fetch.
And in this mood… it really just dreams a lot of negative stuff. The flip between clown and sad clown is dramtic. I’m beter off watching TV, sleeping or staring at the celing.
And doing a lot of writing and ranting perhaps.
I can’t even bring myself to use my mouse and go spellcheck this. I see all the red squigglies showing me how close the stupid comuter is at guessing… I choose to believe that any human reader is capable of that next leap and figuring out pssoble means possible. I thknk at the speed of type these days, and stopping for directions — er corrections is a distraction that breaks the flow of the story. It is a zeppelin I choose to ignore at this time.
However, I also undersand that I am obcessive about my outward persona, and I can not share this in public without it being correctled at least a little… before I show it off to strangers. Errors are important to correct, because as I say they can throw off the flow while I write, it is equally or more important to understand the power. A single error can throw the flow of a reader even more.
If a great quote is presented with an error you notice, it is likely the focus will shift. If, even for a monet my attention is brought away from the words to the delivery, then it loses power.
To be or not to be is a deep scene in theatre history. To, beor not to, be
Same words. What are you thinking?
You get the point… I like to believe in my head that my writing is #prideworthy
I keep this belief, mainly because I never want to ask, or hear otherwise. This is why it is my secret life. It is easy to be King of your own universe if you just assume you are, and never get into a situation where you may learn otherwise. In my own private writing universe – I am a great writer. The price for this joyous egotism is… I must never ask. You can not see my art, or I would learn it is not the perfection I wish to believe.
For now, I’m OK with that.
Jeff Goebel.
– The greatest person alive, in my own universe.
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Sadly, I can not bring myself to believe that. In some ways, sure. I like who I am. I just hate the fact that I can only be that man in my olwn head.
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argh. To many contradictions.
10:45am… ready for first nap. There are problems to solve that can’t be delayed, but just maybe they can be delayed till after first nap. Every new wake up could bring the Monday mood I’m seeking.
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