![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Okay, so I'm a little discouraged now...
May. 25th, 2006 08:45 pmI have no real reason to be feeling depressed. Well, yes, there's all the financial stress going on, but I'm doing my best to deal with that. I guess it's just a minor attack of the "Oh gods, why meeeeee?"s, which happens to the best of us on occasion.
I dislike feeling sorry for myself. It strikes me as a waste of time, and so when I do feel sorry for myself it just makes me annoyed. I spent many, many years being angry as a result. ;)
I dropped off my CV at Chapters and Indigo today, and applied online for a job to which![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silly_imp pointed me. The CBC site is stupid: it doesn't confirm that your application went through. I certainly hope the form worked. I am vastly underqualified for the job, but it would totally and absolutely rock if I got it. I think I'd do the job well, but I don't have the requisite experience and contacts in the Canadian literary world that they're calling for.
Why, oh why, do ALL jobs seem to require 5+ years' experience? Seriously, I've only been on the job market for four years (almost four and a half). How on Earth am I supposed to get a job if all jobs want you to have had a job for five years already? *sigh*
I've still been looking assiduously for emergency dispatch jobs, and thus far there hasn't even been a nibble. Nothing in emergency, and the jobs doing regular old dispatching are either only part-time or much too far away.
I think I'll head to bed early-ish tonight. Possibly lack of sleep is contributing to this latest bout of melancholy.
I dislike feeling sorry for myself. It strikes me as a waste of time, and so when I do feel sorry for myself it just makes me annoyed. I spent many, many years being angry as a result. ;)
I dropped off my CV at Chapters and Indigo today, and applied online for a job to which
silly_imp pointed me. The CBC site is stupid: it doesn't confirm that your application went through. I certainly hope the form worked. I am vastly underqualified for the job, but it would totally and absolutely rock if I got it. I think I'd do the job well, but I don't have the requisite experience and contacts in the Canadian literary world that they're calling for.Why, oh why, do ALL jobs seem to require 5+ years' experience? Seriously, I've only been on the job market for four years (almost four and a half). How on Earth am I supposed to get a job if all jobs want you to have had a job for five years already? *sigh*
I've still been looking assiduously for emergency dispatch jobs, and thus far there hasn't even been a nibble. Nothing in emergency, and the jobs doing regular old dispatching are either only part-time or much too far away.
I think I'll head to bed early-ish tonight. Possibly lack of sleep is contributing to this latest bout of melancholy.
I'm not in a good mood, for the record, so doubtless the tone of this post will reflect that. That's all the warning you get.
Haven't updated LJ properly in a while. Today will be no exception. Have been busy running around exhausting myself trying to keep up with my life.
Have had a frustrating few days lately. Nothing huge by itself, but an accumulation of little things. Band practice was, unlike everyone else's experience, an exercise in frustration. I've read other accounts of the practice and wondered if I wasn't practicing with another band without realising it. Mostly the three hours felt like "the songs aren't working because you can't keep the tempo consistent." Not a good thing if, say, you're the drummer. I got out of practice mostly wondering why the hell I'm doing this.
No, I don't need reassurance/bolstering/whatever. I am perfectly capable of getting over myself, I do it all the time.
Spent Saturday evening and most of Sunday in Alexandria withfearsclave and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
kinokid, and I guess some of the anxiety/frustration of Saturday morning carried over, because I don't think I was very good company. I snapped at fearsclave's uncle at one point, mostly because he pushed a large red psychological button moments after I had had a miscommunication with someone else, and basically it sucked and I felt terrible for snapping at him. It's not his fault I'm oversensitive, and I need to watch my tongue.
I was very late for my parents' dinner party. I had wanted to leave at 4:45 and we didn't end up leaving until nearly 5:30. It turned out okay for the most part, since I arrived as the guests were sitting down, but they had pretty much given up on waiting for me.
I had to sit on my hands not to punch several people at work today. Well, maybe not punch, but I have a feeling I might have tried it if I'd thought I could get away with it. I did get a lot of work done, since after the first hour or so people mostly left me alone. Maybe they could feel the waves of hostility rolling off me. :P
In short, I have a sneaking suspicion that I have been absolutely awful to be around lately. I tapped out my resources of cheefulness and tolerance and good humour, and I have nothing left to give anyone, let alone myself. So my apologies if I've managed to offend or piss anyone off in the last week or so. Let's just say I haven't been myself and leave it at that.
Oh, and happy birthday todjs_specs and terredancer, only forty-five minutes late! At least, in my time zone.
Haven't updated LJ properly in a while. Today will be no exception. Have been busy running around exhausting myself trying to keep up with my life.
Have had a frustrating few days lately. Nothing huge by itself, but an accumulation of little things. Band practice was, unlike everyone else's experience, an exercise in frustration. I've read other accounts of the practice and wondered if I wasn't practicing with another band without realising it. Mostly the three hours felt like "the songs aren't working because you can't keep the tempo consistent." Not a good thing if, say, you're the drummer. I got out of practice mostly wondering why the hell I'm doing this.
No, I don't need reassurance/bolstering/whatever. I am perfectly capable of getting over myself, I do it all the time.
Spent Saturday evening and most of Sunday in Alexandria with
fearsclave and kinokid, and I guess some of the anxiety/frustration of Saturday morning carried over, because I don't think I was very good company. I snapped at fearsclave's uncle at one point, mostly because he pushed a large red psychological button moments after I had had a miscommunication with someone else, and basically it sucked and I felt terrible for snapping at him. It's not his fault I'm oversensitive, and I need to watch my tongue.I was very late for my parents' dinner party. I had wanted to leave at 4:45 and we didn't end up leaving until nearly 5:30. It turned out okay for the most part, since I arrived as the guests were sitting down, but they had pretty much given up on waiting for me.
I had to sit on my hands not to punch several people at work today. Well, maybe not punch, but I have a feeling I might have tried it if I'd thought I could get away with it. I did get a lot of work done, since after the first hour or so people mostly left me alone. Maybe they could feel the waves of hostility rolling off me. :P
In short, I have a sneaking suspicion that I have been absolutely awful to be around lately. I tapped out my resources of cheefulness and tolerance and good humour, and I have nothing left to give anyone, let alone myself. So my apologies if I've managed to offend or piss anyone off in the last week or so. Let's just say I haven't been myself and leave it at that.
Oh, and happy birthday to
djs_specs and terredancer, only forty-five minutes late! At least, in my time zone.
"Hello darkness my old friend..."
Mar. 10th, 2006 12:50 amSimon & Garfunkel in my head.
Sign #1 that Phnee is on a downswing: it's nearly 1am, and I'm not asleep.
Damn. There have been other signs. I should have watched more carefully.
Bugger.
Move along, nothing to see here. Maybe it'll be gone by tomorrow. *crosses fingers*
Sign #1 that Phnee is on a downswing: it's nearly 1am, and I'm not asleep.
Damn. There have been other signs. I should have watched more carefully.
Bugger.
Move along, nothing to see here. Maybe it'll be gone by tomorrow. *crosses fingers*
Is it spring yet?
Dec. 14th, 2005 09:56 amI know. Snowshoes. Ice fishing. Camping in the snow. All things to look forward to, once there's enough snow and the lakes are properly frozen over.
I like winter. It's my favourite season of the year. I don't like it when it's too warm outside, even though summer is beautiful. I enjoy spring and autumn for their colours and because I like transitions, but in terms of stark, uncompromising beauty, I love winter best of all.
Unfortunately, my brain doesn't agree with me on this point. It doesn't like the fact that there's less sun, and that I spend 90% of daylight hours indoors. Starting in October and going until about February or March, my brain goes all goth on me: it dresses in dark clothes with intricate lace patterns, puts on thick black eyeliner, and writes angsty poetry about death.
November sucked in various ways this year, the way it often does. Yet I've only lately started feeling the full effects of what I guess might be called SAD, although that isn't what it is in my case. I don't have SAD, I simply have bipolar disorder with a seasonal aspect. "Simply." Heh. I don't stop cycling in winter, I just feel the "downs" more sharply than in summer, when I feel the "highs" more. In winter I generally get more mixed episodes as well.
Attendant to all this come the secondary effects, which in a way are far more frustrating than the actual illness. I get more forgetful, and the aphasia comes back in full force. Even simple words elude me in conversation, while people patiently wait for me to finish my thought, or else just talk over me because they can't be bothered to wait. Sometimes they helpfully try to supply the word I'm looking for. No matter what, I end up frustrated and angry because I feel as though I'm wasting their time and my own.
Have I mentioned that I get more forgetful? I have a reputation as a flake, and that's not accidental. I constantly forget important dates and events. I double-book myself even when I write things down. I can mitigate most of the effects by keeping a detailed datebook, but even then I still manage to screw things up on a regular basis.
Have you ever heard that memory is associated with feeling? That when you're happy you can only remember happy memories and that when you're angry you remember negative experiences? That when you're sad only unhappy memories come back to you? Well, I've found that it's true for states of mind as well: I remember different things according to whether I'm hypomanic or depressed, or dysthimic or just having a reasonably good day. That's usually when the double-booking happens, because from one day to the next I don't remember exactly what I've committed to.
Fun, eh?
Anyway, I'm not posting this for any reason other than for my own benefit. Sometimes writing these things down helps me to sort them out in my head (and procrastinate at work, too :P). Also, it might serve as an explanation for why I'm more flaky than usual around this time of year. Crazy + holidays + extra seasonal crazy = unreliable Phnee.
A more cheerful update will follow later today.
I like winter. It's my favourite season of the year. I don't like it when it's too warm outside, even though summer is beautiful. I enjoy spring and autumn for their colours and because I like transitions, but in terms of stark, uncompromising beauty, I love winter best of all.
Unfortunately, my brain doesn't agree with me on this point. It doesn't like the fact that there's less sun, and that I spend 90% of daylight hours indoors. Starting in October and going until about February or March, my brain goes all goth on me: it dresses in dark clothes with intricate lace patterns, puts on thick black eyeliner, and writes angsty poetry about death.
November sucked in various ways this year, the way it often does. Yet I've only lately started feeling the full effects of what I guess might be called SAD, although that isn't what it is in my case. I don't have SAD, I simply have bipolar disorder with a seasonal aspect. "Simply." Heh. I don't stop cycling in winter, I just feel the "downs" more sharply than in summer, when I feel the "highs" more. In winter I generally get more mixed episodes as well.
Attendant to all this come the secondary effects, which in a way are far more frustrating than the actual illness. I get more forgetful, and the aphasia comes back in full force. Even simple words elude me in conversation, while people patiently wait for me to finish my thought, or else just talk over me because they can't be bothered to wait. Sometimes they helpfully try to supply the word I'm looking for. No matter what, I end up frustrated and angry because I feel as though I'm wasting their time and my own.
Have I mentioned that I get more forgetful? I have a reputation as a flake, and that's not accidental. I constantly forget important dates and events. I double-book myself even when I write things down. I can mitigate most of the effects by keeping a detailed datebook, but even then I still manage to screw things up on a regular basis.
Have you ever heard that memory is associated with feeling? That when you're happy you can only remember happy memories and that when you're angry you remember negative experiences? That when you're sad only unhappy memories come back to you? Well, I've found that it's true for states of mind as well: I remember different things according to whether I'm hypomanic or depressed, or dysthimic or just having a reasonably good day. That's usually when the double-booking happens, because from one day to the next I don't remember exactly what I've committed to.
Fun, eh?
Anyway, I'm not posting this for any reason other than for my own benefit. Sometimes writing these things down helps me to sort them out in my head (and procrastinate at work, too :P). Also, it might serve as an explanation for why I'm more flaky than usual around this time of year. Crazy + holidays + extra seasonal crazy = unreliable Phnee.
A more cheerful update will follow later today.
Just a little bit broken
Nov. 28th, 2005 04:20 amI think I'm going to declare tomorrow a Mental Health Day.
I've had a better November than I'm used to having, but it's been hard regardless. Also, this stupid migraine won't go away. It recedes for a while, usually around the afternoon, and then comes back in full force in the evenings. It's a good thing I've learned to keep functioning even when they hit.
So I came to my parents' apartment this evening to do my weekly round of watering the plants and watching a bit of television, and to catch up on NaNoWriMo. I only have 2,289 words to write before I hit 50,000. No problem, right? Wrong.
I got no writing done at all. I'm not worried about that. 2,000 words in three days is nothing. I'll do it tomorrow. I got 3,000-odd words written this afternoon. NaNo will be fine.
I decided to make tomorrow a Mental Health Day because the end of Cold Case Files made me sob uncontrollably for ten minutes. That's a pretty clear sign that I need some time off. For one thing, the people on that show for the most part couldn't act their way out of a wet paper bag. It just pushed all of my buttons and suddenly I wanted my mommy and she won't be home until Wednesday and it was all too much. So, yeah. Mental Health Day. I'm going to get some sleep, so a bit of writing, and sleep some more.
In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a bit of a mess. I hadn't realized quite how much of a mess I was until I got here. It's taking every ounce of strength just to keep smiling and to be pleasant with people. I saw five people today, and I think I ended up snapping at four of them. (*waves to friends* If I snapped, I didn't mean it...)
I'm taking everything that people say the wrong way, even when the rational part of my brain knows that whatever I think they said isn't really what they said. It's very frustrating. If a friend says "I'm feeling lonely," my brain hears "You're never here for me and you're a bad friend." If someone says "I liked what you wrote in that one piece a while back," I hear "Most of your writing sucks but I don't want to tell you so I'm picking out the one positive thing I can think of so as not to hurt your feelings." If someone says "I posted about [issue] on the board today," I hear "You're not making enough of an effort to keep up to speed."
I'd like to know where the hell I got these broken filters and whether I can get a refund.
I don't know whether to be happy or sad that November is over. Sure, the NaNoWriMo related stress will be over, but I keep wondering if NaNo isn't actually keeping me sane by preventing me from thinking of other stuff. I guess we'll find out. Stay tuned for the next thrilling instalment in this chronicle.
I've had a better November than I'm used to having, but it's been hard regardless. Also, this stupid migraine won't go away. It recedes for a while, usually around the afternoon, and then comes back in full force in the evenings. It's a good thing I've learned to keep functioning even when they hit.
So I came to my parents' apartment this evening to do my weekly round of watering the plants and watching a bit of television, and to catch up on NaNoWriMo. I only have 2,289 words to write before I hit 50,000. No problem, right? Wrong.
I got no writing done at all. I'm not worried about that. 2,000 words in three days is nothing. I'll do it tomorrow. I got 3,000-odd words written this afternoon. NaNo will be fine.
I decided to make tomorrow a Mental Health Day because the end of Cold Case Files made me sob uncontrollably for ten minutes. That's a pretty clear sign that I need some time off. For one thing, the people on that show for the most part couldn't act their way out of a wet paper bag. It just pushed all of my buttons and suddenly I wanted my mommy and she won't be home until Wednesday and it was all too much. So, yeah. Mental Health Day. I'm going to get some sleep, so a bit of writing, and sleep some more.
In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a bit of a mess. I hadn't realized quite how much of a mess I was until I got here. It's taking every ounce of strength just to keep smiling and to be pleasant with people. I saw five people today, and I think I ended up snapping at four of them. (*waves to friends* If I snapped, I didn't mean it...)
I'm taking everything that people say the wrong way, even when the rational part of my brain knows that whatever I think they said isn't really what they said. It's very frustrating. If a friend says "I'm feeling lonely," my brain hears "You're never here for me and you're a bad friend." If someone says "I liked what you wrote in that one piece a while back," I hear "Most of your writing sucks but I don't want to tell you so I'm picking out the one positive thing I can think of so as not to hurt your feelings." If someone says "I posted about [issue] on the board today," I hear "You're not making enough of an effort to keep up to speed."
I'd like to know where the hell I got these broken filters and whether I can get a refund.
I don't know whether to be happy or sad that November is over. Sure, the NaNoWriMo related stress will be over, but I keep wondering if NaNo isn't actually keeping me sane by preventing me from thinking of other stuff. I guess we'll find out. Stay tuned for the next thrilling instalment in this chronicle.
Right over the edge
Nov. 22nd, 2005 12:40 pmPart of me doesn't really want to write a long, rambling entry about the end of November, and depression, and everything that goes with it. A really big part of me, actually.
I don't want to talk to people. I don't want to see people. Hell, even LJ seems overwhelming right now, although it's counterbalanced by my insatiable curiosity about the people I know. Just like the little elephant in the "Just So Stories." :P
Right now my strongest impulse is to call everyone I know and cancel everything I have planned for the next three months, and then hide for a while.
Obviously, that would be selfish and impractical. So I'll just have to suck it up and deal. It's what I do best.
I hate this time of year. I hate having to smile and pretend that everything's fine.
Please for the love of God don't tell me that I don't have to do that. I do. I don't even stop to think about it. If someone asks me how I am, I will automatically smile and say I'm fine. I don't really want to change that, either. I can write about what I'm feeling, but I dislike talking about it. It always comes out like pathetic whining, especially since my problems aren't that bad compared to so many others. So I won't talk about it, or at least not in depth. Smiling and saying that things are fine is my way of coping with the outside world. I fall apart on my own time. Smiling in public lets me hang onto my sanity just that little bit longer.
...
God, this entry is depressing. I'm going to stop now. Sheesh.
I don't want to talk to people. I don't want to see people. Hell, even LJ seems overwhelming right now, although it's counterbalanced by my insatiable curiosity about the people I know. Just like the little elephant in the "Just So Stories." :P
Right now my strongest impulse is to call everyone I know and cancel everything I have planned for the next three months, and then hide for a while.
Obviously, that would be selfish and impractical. So I'll just have to suck it up and deal. It's what I do best.
I hate this time of year. I hate having to smile and pretend that everything's fine.
Please for the love of God don't tell me that I don't have to do that. I do. I don't even stop to think about it. If someone asks me how I am, I will automatically smile and say I'm fine. I don't really want to change that, either. I can write about what I'm feeling, but I dislike talking about it. It always comes out like pathetic whining, especially since my problems aren't that bad compared to so many others. So I won't talk about it, or at least not in depth. Smiling and saying that things are fine is my way of coping with the outside world. I fall apart on my own time. Smiling in public lets me hang onto my sanity just that little bit longer.
...
God, this entry is depressing. I'm going to stop now. Sheesh.
