Threads of turbulence
Ripples in the slime
Stitches in my lung
Silk pillows against my cheek
Threads of turbulence
Ripples in the slime
Stitches in my lung
Silk pillows against my cheek
This is not an update. I’m not sure what this is. I just feel a need to write. It’s been quite a while and I’m not sure what to say. There’s a lot going on, probably. Or maybe there’s nothing going on. It’s hard to tell. I’m not depressed, but I’m not relaxed.
It’s probably because I’m still living away from my partner. We talk about him coming to visit me here. But we are pretty strict here with how we treat possible exposure to ‘the virus’. He’d be tested upon flying, and then be in strict quarantine here at the house for at least a week or two until he’s tested again. We wouldn’t encourage breathing the same air until then. It would be a hard time period.
Then, he’s willing to take more risks than we are. He’d probably be going into local bakeries for pastries and such. He does that presently. We don’t do that. We’ve gone into a store at least 8 times in the past half year, but only for some supplies and groceries.
Well, you know. It’ll be what it is, I suppose. I’m just not sure what it is. Part of me can see positives of me returning back to what was my previous life. Part of me would leave where I presently am over my dead body, so to speak. You’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming. And yet. I had friends and stuff in my previous life. Well, not like REAL friends, except the one. What was his fake name on here? “Joe” or something? The person I used to walk with once a week. He was a real friend. The others were just upbeat acquaintances but that could be so much fun. My Pokemon friends, I suppose I mean. And I had been developing some kind of friendships with people at work, but also not exactly. That is complicated.
Work is really, really, ultra weird. I suppose my paranoia and self-doubt is what’s kicked in, really. I’m pretty convinced everyone hates me. It’s funny to write that out, but I’m dead serious. I wish I could just do my work and not worry about what other people think of me. That would be so nice. It’s worse long-distance, because I don’t get any smiles. Apparently I find smiles really comforting when talking with others. Who knew. Also, nobody asks me how I am. At least in person, people might stop and ask how was my weekend, or whatever. Long-distance, nobody reaches out to me. It’s frustrating. I try to reach out to a couple of people now and again. But it’s so hard. I can’t tell what anyone else is doing. I don’t know what they’re doing! I don’t even know if they’re working half the time. Maybe more than half the time. What are they doing?
If this long-distance was going to go on a long time, I’d want to work elsewhere. I’d want to work for a company that is willing to work on developing a healthy mode of connection online. We suck. It’s so awkward. People don’t even turn on their videos during Zoom meetings, and typically keep their mics turned off, too. Are they even there? Are they listening? Are they working? Are they out driving around in their car, or doing house chores? How can I know? It’s frustrating.
Maybe I don’t like the people there anymore. I did before. Maybe I don’t now. Maybe it’s just a job. Maybe I need to calm down about it and just treat it like a job. Before, I was making it a center piece of my life, hanging out with some of them after work, trying my heart out at work, doing my absolute best at every moment. Not having energy left over for my personal life.
So, you know. Life’s weird. But isn’t that what I always say? Maybe I don’t know what a normal life would look like. Maybe it’s staring me in the face and I think it’s weird.
Well, I’m exercising a bit more finally. And I’m eating pretty well. I’m getting some chores done that I’ve wanted to get done. I guess that’s all I can ask for. I talk with my partner over the phone most every day. I don’t feel that I’m missing anything, other than talking with him and his parents. He doesn’t do things that I wish I could do– like he doesn’t go on hikes or anything, so I don’t have fear of missing out. I get to talk with him over the phone.
I’ve set up a ton of bird feeders. So far we’ve seen seven different types of birds, only 5 of which have used the feeders. And a squirrel, of course. But we love squirrels, so that’s good.
I can’t believe it’s going to be winter soon. The weather has changed.
[Hi all. I’ve been wanting to write a post about this for a while. But full disclosure: I have been very, very, extremely lucky. I was able to leave the city for the country, where I have been for three months. I did touch three airports and then quarantine for 14 days on the other end. Also, I am still employed and working full time from home. And largely, none of my friends or family have died from the virus so far. So my thoughts on this topic are not as panicked and stressed as they would otherwise be. The only negative I feel at all times is anxiety/guilt — because I am so far away from my partner and workplace, and feel I have been more lucky than I “deserve”. And work is super stressful because three people were fired and the rest of us have to pick up all of their work. But that is all for a different post.]
What I want to discuss is this highly contagious virus and my observations from the perspective of someone who experiences contamination OCD on a good day. To me, it feels like a very cranked up version of how I’ve always felt. It’s like my normal tendencies are amplified.
I was born to wear a mask. I was born to avoid touching doorknobs and avoid outstretched hands of greeting. I was born to avoid breathing in another person’s breath. I was born to stand across the street when chatting with neighbors. I was born to avoid standing in a crowded post office. I was born to stay a hundred miles away from a sneezing or coughing person. The amplified part is that I do feel strong anxiety when a non-household member gets very close, particularly if they’re not wearing a mask. And I feel quite upset when I have to go into a store, with double-mask and typically gloves (for which I have a specific routine), and so many other people are not wearing masks at all (if they would wear a mask, there would be less chance of virus in the environment).
These parts of the so-called “new normal” are easy. What will NOT be easy, and may in fact be impossible for me, is going back to a previous life. How will I possibly snuggle in shoulder-to-shoulder with a hundred other people on a dirty train? How will I possibly walk around in a grocery store in the future without a mask and possibly gloves? (How had I ever become so mentally healthy that I was able to do those things?)
Hearing people TALK about hand-washing for 20 seconds, and proper washing technique as though it was a brand new concept was shocking to me. Hearing people actually think aloud about what might be on a mailing envelope or a piece of grocery store fruit or a public railing was a little satisfying for me, I’ll admit. For a brief time, non-contamination-OCD people actually had one second of insight into my mind. There’s never been ANYTHING in public that I’ve EVER touched in my adult life that didn’t cause me to at least briefly consider what might be on it. 99.99% of the time, I’m able to pick up or handle the item anyway, but it’s ALWAYS the first thought. For a brief time, people around the world seemed to take a moment to consider those things, too. It was nice.
I use past tense because a lot of areas within the USA seem kind of done with considering surface contamination. That’s fair enough, because now we believe the virus isn’t as transmittable by surface contact, so even I don’t wash my hands after handling the newspaper (which was delivered four hours before I touch it anyway, so I don’t know if that example should count).
How I’ll deal with life going back to the old-normal, I have no idea. Frankly, I’m probably isolating myself so much that I’m missing out on a lot of germs that would be helping to strengthen my immune system in the long run. But the future will come when it comes. For now, you’ll be speaking to me through a mask from a great distance away.
Well, it’s finally gotten to me. The whole virus thing. I’m not even worried about catching the virus, because I’m not in a particularly vulnerable group, so it would probably be like a normal flu for me. I hate flues, but I don’t think I’d be hospitalized or anything like that. But all the same, I want to go Home. I want to be with my parents. I’m tired. Everyone is talking about working remotely for a while. I wish my job didn’t involve the fact that I have to go to the office for certain tasks. But I don’t know how I could do certain things from afar. MOST of my job, I could do from afar. Like 90% of it.
I’d want to go Home in the best of times. But now I’m very stressed. I’m snapping at the people I live with. I’m getting a bit short with people at work when they don’t respond to my questions within 24 hours. And it’s probably because they’re choosing to work remotely at times and I can’t, so I’m jealous.
You know, whatever job I get next, I’m going to make damn well sure that it’s something I could do remotely if push came to shove. I hadn’t PLANNED on going Home yet, but my partner has to stay home for the next month. A lot of places around here have told their workers to work remotely. The trains are bizarrely empty and it’s nice because I get a seat, but it’s also weird. I wonder if I’m the smart one or the stupid one.
My parents are kind of worried. They’re in a vulnerable group. I want to be with them. I am Homesick. If the vision of going there hadn’t entered my head, maybe I wouldn’t be so wistful, but it’s in my head and I want it so badly.
I mean look, if worst came to worst, I could ask for unpaid leave and go there anyway, and leave the company in a lurch. And if they said no, I could quit and walk away, and go Home.
I’m kind of lonely lately. I have been arguing a lot and, like I said, I’ve been very snappy with the people I live with. I don’t feel connected with them right now. Everything they say and how they say it feels alien. They don’t understand me and I don’t understand them. But it’s become so bad, I’m not sure how to get out of it and get back on the same page, at least with my partner.
Oh the things I wish I could say on here.
We are about to have a house guest, for one week, who severely triggers my contamination OCD. I have on multiple occasions found shitty fingerprint on things in the bathroom during his previous visits. Like literal shit fingerprints. Like made of feces in the shape of fingerprints. On objects. Maybe I can just rent a hotel room for a week and then hire a cleaner to come through the house after he leaves.
Aside from that, he’s an entertaining guest and I don’t mind his presence. But. … Oh gawd.
I don’t know why, but I’m super emotional tonight and really upset and I want to stay somewhere else tonight. It’s probably a mutual misunderstanding.
Anyway, things have been pretty great lately. Work is awesome. I’m very lucky.
There’s going to be a change in my family soon. That might be stressing me, although it’s a positive. But it’s also the unknown.
But tonight, I’m full of angst. This morning, I was in tears talking with my partner over the issue not mentioned in the first paragraph (it isn’t about him, but is about something in our living situation). This evening, I’m so angry and so anxious. And I feel so alone and misunderstood. And so. so. so. so alone.
But I’ll feel fine and cheerful once I’m at work again. If I could just stay there all day and night, I’d probably feel a lot more stable. I get so awful on the weekends– that’s always been true for me, in my adult life. I am stable at work, but an emotional wreck at home. And always, always depressed and moody on the weekends.
My lymph nodes are painful tonight. I feel like crying. I won’t be able to sleep because I lost one of my earplugs. Wait, I think I found an extra packet tucked away a few weeks ago. I’m going to go look for it.
I can’t sleep. I’m too anxious. I’m upset, I’m stressed, I’m disappointed. And I’m sick with a head cold. So I really need to be asleep.
I’m obsessing. I need to let things go. I doubt anyone reads these anymore. I am still not back to it as my obsessive interest, so I haven’t spent time on other people’s blogs (which is not to say I’m disinterested in the people I used to follow; I would like to still know what is up for you, but I cannot read).
I cannot click the links. I cannot spend time. I cannot change my mind from a certain topic; I’m obsessed. I’ve been obsessed for a while but I didn’t mind before; it had healthy benefits before (it still does). But now the unhealthy, life-disrupting aspects are negatively impacting me extremely enough that I can’t stand it. I have to either quit or seriously draw back from it. Restrict my time “for real”. I could uninstall the app.
What would my day be like tomorrow with the app uninstalled? I would wake up (hopefully on the later side, since I’m sick and still awake). I would eat breakfast more calmly (yes, EVEN THOUGH I haven’t caught a shiny flower-headband eevee that was only available for two days and disappears tomorrow afternoon and won’t return for at least a year).
Where was I? Oh yes, I would eat a way calmer breakfast. Then, I will put away the clean dishes and pick up my stuff from around the house (especially everything I have strewn around in the bathroom). Then, I would finish the photo book that is due tomorrow.
Wow, and then it would be time to start on chapter two of my class. It’s strange. My semester doesn’t begin until Friday, yet I have felt like an utter and complete slack-off failure for the past week, since I finished my previous class early.
That’s because I’m unemployed, and I know perfectly damn well that I’m not behaving like a full-time student. I’m behaving like a slack-off no-good leach of … whatever. You get my point. The pressure is there to be productive and make progress. I already took a vacation the week before (for real, I went on a vacation).
I have needed to write here. I already feel about a thousand times better than at any recent point. But there is something about clicking on links that I dislike. Going to website, reading, doing. I don’t know how to explain it. I hate doing almost anything over the Internet. I only read this one chat site (about the game, of course), and watch YouTube videos. Oh, and read my online textbooks. But I hate visiting other websites. I hate trying to figure out where to click, what things mean, how to navigate different sites, etc. I’d much rather take care of business over the telephone. Which is weird, since I hate talking on the phone. But I do most things over the phone, even if there’s a website that would probably take much less time (but it would take so much more brain power and I’d get confused and frustrated and have to read tiny print and find the right buttons to click and all that). Yuck.
I feel different about all of that than I used to. When I was in high school and the first years of college, I felt pretty damn pro at navigating the Internet. EVERYTHING was better online. Now I’ll avoid it whenever I can. It’s just too MUCH.
But then, I used to be really organized with my emails and stuff. Now, conversely, I remain with thousands of unread emails and I only check email every couple of weeks. I used to check a couple of times an hour! Well, it used to match with my obsessiveness and now it doesn’t. All emails used to have a nice little folder I could organize them into and now they don’t. I don’t know if life changed or if it’s mostly been my brain that’s changed.
But thank heavens for this space. I don’t come here often. In large part, there is my fear over how transparent I’ve been. If certainly people read this blog, they would know me instantly. I haven’t been subtle and have shared a lot that I probably shouldn’t have.
I could start a fresh blog again, elsewhere, but I suspect that the same thing would happen. So I don’t really know what I’m doing with this blog. It’s been too revealing, and gives me an opportunity to reveal too much in the future. But it sure helps me a ton in the present.
Anyway, so I have two choices for tomorrow.
There’s nothing inbetween. Can you imagine an inbetween? I can’t. I don’t know what that would look like. Get up, eat breakfast, put away dishes, pick up my stuff, all without the app running? But it wouldn’t be calm. It would be anxious and neurotic. I would feel anxiety the entire time, fearing that I was missing out on my last chances of finding that damn, impossible creature.
Then there’s this other aspect of the game that’s stressing me out but I don’t think it’s something that I can share here, since it’s revealing. I wish that I could write about it but I won’t.
It’s interesting. When I’m at my parents’ house, much of the app seems far away. There are still certain things I’m obsessed about, but many things I just let fall away. But when I’m here, I have to try or … or what? Who cares? What difference will it make? One day, this whole thing will be obsolete and none of what I’ve collected will still be with me. None of it. But hopefully the friendships and contacts will somehow remain. I don’t know how many of them could, but I hope they do. New goal: No shinies during events.
Wow. This has been a real relief. I’m going to go pee again, blow my nose, and then attempt sleep.
I’m fine again. The illness, whether physical, mental or a twisted combination, has passed, and I’m able to smile again and am not obsessing anymore. Hallelujah.
I cleared up some poor wording and added a lot of new content. I updated it again today (Nov 1):
I woke up this morning with a major flare up of my OCD. I was in bad shape. My thought loop couldn’t be broken and it was about my old obsession, which I have written about here once, somewhere. (Not that the post does it justice.)
Probable Causes for the Current Worsening:
Anyway. I let myself give in to my obsession this morning. I opened up Facebook, which I don’t use anymore. But I did. I contacted one of his best friends. I said, basically, that I am having a really hard time with my OCD right now but it looks like it’s been 7 years since I’ve written to you so that’s pretty good.” He doesn’t know the story, he doesn’t know what’s bothering me, he doesn’t know why I wrote to him 7 years ago, either. Thank god I have a buffer, but it’s still bad that I broke down that way this morning. He was kind in his response. It’s a person I’ve known since elementary school yet we don’t keep in touch (and I’m not sure this is considered keeping in touch, either).