Vision Quest

There are three things I do not like discussing in any detail unless I am in a certain kind of mood.

In no particular order, those things are;

• my problems with depression
• my thoughts concerning misogyny
• my feelings concerning my past relationships

In the past week, I have been quizzed in detail about all three by my current roommate. It's no wonder I'm feeling off kilter and morbid.

I don't like discussing my depression, even though it has been a long running thing, and even though I'm taking steps to control the arcs of my up and down swings. The reasoning behind this is quite simple; the more I talk about my problems, the more I am reminded that yes, I do have problems. This leads to over thinking, which leads to rumination. You see, thinking about how low I've fallen puts me in the mindset again, where I know I *should* just be able to be happy, but I can't. It leaves me feeling helpless and frustrated and completely powerless.

So yes, ixnay on the talking about depression.

My thoughts concerning misogyny are vast and complicated, full of me checking myself to ensure that, yes, I have challenged this or that norm, and I am not just letting "that's just how it is" influence my thoughts. Boys will not just be boys, we should all be treating each other with respect, our reproductive rights should be our own (meaning men should be fully in control of whether or not they may get vasectomies, and women may choose when they want to have a child) and sometimes yes, women give out fake numbers because saying no can be met with hostile action.

I have been accused of being a misogynist twice in my entire life, for making observations, and I resent it. So I dislike feeling like I have to "prove" I'm someone's kind of feminist. I'm a feminist, plain and simple. If you don't agree with me, I don't care.

As for my feelings concerning my past relationships, the only people I would feel comfortable discussing said relationships in depth are the past partners that were in the relationship with me. It just so unfortunately happens that my tongue gets twisted, I have no idea what to say, and I have no sweet clue how to approach the discussion. So I'll settle for clamming up unless asked to describe past relationships in one reaction, sentence, or hey, even a music video.

I can answer direct questions easily enough, but ask an open ended question, and I flounder.

Why am I bringing all of this up out of nowhere? Because I have an excellent job, a good roommate, my life has settled into some sort of stability, and I'm having nightmares, cold sweats, and panic attacks concerning thoughts of my future. I am aware the future is bright. I have the shades. Yes, I've got that memo.

But it's just not right, and the only way I've been able to make myself function is by pretending it is.

There is a deep, unsettled feeling surrounding my life, and until I can let myself see what's going on, I am oblivious, just going through the motions.

A friend told me my recent projects for myself were some kind of vision quest, and he's not quite wrong. Maybe what I need is to find something that makes me feel alive. Maybe I'm unsettled because I'm not asking myself the right questions.

Maybe this blog entry is more for me than it is for the reader. But either way, maybe we all need to be figuring some things out during this summer, before time runs away again.

Cabin Fever

I never used to be someone who got cabin fever. I could spend hours, days, sometimes even weeks comfortably hidden in my room, leaving only to use the facilities, or grab food, or shower.

I don't know what happened to that not so inner hermit, but I most definitely am not like that anymore.

Now, if I stay inside for an entire day, I get moody, antsy, and am prone to periods of furious pacing, or sudden taekwondo kicks, punches, and forms.

Unfortunately, I am supposed to be on required bed rest accompanied by light exercise. For an entire month. No taekwondo, no running, no gym time, no physiotherapy.

So of course I go for an hour long walk.

Here I am sitting on a park bench in Officers' Square, engaging in exactly what my therapist, counsellor, and depression guide have advised me not to do; rumination.

I'm nothing if not troublesome, headstrong, and stubborn.

So back to the topic at hand; where did I get my work ethic and my energy from? Because it sure wasn't here in 2009, the second time I flunked out of University. (To be fair depression had a lot to do with that.) 

Nor was my work ethic kicking around in 2010, which I fondly refer to as the year I didn't exist. (Long story short, my coworkers at the time treated me like I was either invisible, or the worst person in the world.)

I'd say my work ethic came to be roughly around the time my engagement fell apart, and I became a single woman living alone in a 2 bedroom apartment with 3 cats. That was June 2012, in case you were wondering.

That was the year I began to do ridiculous amounts of volunteerwork. That was the year I fell for my best friend.

I can safely say that was around the time I began to develop my backbone, for realsies. Because around then I realized it wasn't all that terrible, being alone.

The next year had me look at my bitter, old coworker who was stuck in a rut, and decide I would never be like her.

I applied to return to University that day, with the support of my best friend, who was then also my partner.

I'm not a success story. I'm not a survivor, or a victim. I have my low points. I have my very low points, where I cannot even crawl out of bed. But I have my high points too.

Even when I'm feeling low, I get out of bed because I'm too damn stubborn not to work towards those high points.

I guess that's why I have such terrible cabin fever. I just want to get shit done.