Category Archives: Mental Illness

Fuck this ADHD Bipolar Depressed and Anxious Insane Asylum of My Mind

4:15. What did I accomplish today? Thinking. Thoughts. Many of them. I started writing a book. Well, a paragraph of it anyway. Over lunch. I did do a lot of work tasks this morning. I feel like I didn’t get anything substantial done yet though. Trying now. Clearly being productive since I’m writing this blog post right? Uh. I talked to two coaches. I think they’re both firing me. One did. Said I need a resume writer. Resume writers say I need a coach. Oh well. Keep on keeping on. So it goes.

Our net worth is up $75k in a month. According to the crazy spreadsheet I built that has 18 tabs and counting. Closed the month out at $2.23M. Why does that not feel–anything? Just a few years ago it was $600k. Every month of growth should feel monumental. But no. I’m just more lost than ever.

Listening to a Spotify playlist I created two years ago when I was manic. Not diagnosed manic but clearly I was off. Off on some runway taking off to the land of making a thousand horrible decisions. At least I was making decisions. I think. That’s a positive, right? I felt like I could actually be successful. Desirable. Useful. A somebody. Not an anybody. The playlist reminds me how different I am now to who I was then. Thank goodness, right?

Machinehead. That’s where my head was. That, and High and Dry and all that.

I have things to do. A thousand things to do. How can I focus? How can I take a big fucking task and break it down to smaller tasks that feel achievable and make progress on those tasks? I don’t know. I don’t know if I can. I am overwhelmed. Working at home doesn’t help. I love working from home in terms of being around my family and seeing them more than a few hours a night. But it isn’t good for focus at all. My walls are too textured. Fucking drop down texture. And horrible beige pink. My kids are screaming. I. Just. Can’t. Focus.

Not that I could focus at an office either.

How do I figure out how to be a normal adult? Clearly not happening. Right. So how do I figure out how to be consistent enough to do something productive in society that also pays the bills? I’m slipping again. I got things to get done. Things to do. But each step makes me anxious. Contact other people. Follow up with people. People. People. People. I want to just do. Make. Get shit done. In a bubble. I can’t exist amongst others. I guess. Is that true? I don’t know. Sometimes I can. When I’m in the right mood. But I’m not in the mood these days. I want to dig a hole and get a lot of shit done.

It doesn’t help that every 3 hours I need to feed a baby. I’m grateful to be able to actually breastfeed through the entire first year of his life, instead of having to stop twice a day to pump. This is how it’s supposed to be. Except I should be napping and stuff, not working this year. That’s how it’s biologically supposed to be. No wonder I feel batshit.

Meanwhile, at work, I have to project manage and think big picture and be creative and care but not care and make amazing things but also deal with being told my ideas aren’t good enough and someone else’s ideas are better even though they’re really not.

Another job won’t solve this. I need to get inside my head and change its fundamental chemistry.

Meanwhile, still feeling lonely. Lonely and misunderstood. On a floating island off in the sea slipping out so far I might as well be flicked off to outer space. You know? Maybe it’s the onset of mania. Is it? I don’t think so. Could be. It’s that time a year isn’t it? Fall. But it doesn’t feel like mania. I don’t feel like I can do anything, or be anyone. I feel like I can’t do a lot and I can be pretty much no one. I’m trying. To make senes of it all. Yet again. I want to reach out for help but I don’t know who can help me. So I just get through it. I think I’m ready for the downfall of myself again. I’ll ride it out. It’s easier to get a job when employed but maybe in this case it’s best to just do as much as I can until I’m let go. It’s different this time though because my boss is kind of my friend though not really. But it would be pretty shitty to be fired by him. I’d rather walk on my own. I can’t walk on my own since I need the unemployment and health insurance continual coverage should I get fired.

My husband has some health issues. I’m worried about him. Maybe they are serious. He refused to go to the doctor until things got real bad. Typical man. I’m terrified too. Of his health. Just as mine started to recover after the vaccine fucked with my system and gave me the worst headache for weeks and other stuff. I know it sounds like I’m crazy and that wasn’t real but trust me it was, I am just sensitive I guess. I’m better now. But my husband has other stuff going on. I joke we’re getting the most out of my health insurance but really two MRIs in one year for free is a pretty good deal, right? That’s why I need to keep my job too. My mind jumps to worst case scenarios always. But with him, I don’t know, some of the findings are very concerning. What will the MRI reveal? We’re at that age where shit happens to people. I mean, shit happens to people at any age but I feel like there’s this wave of shit that happens to people in their late 30s and early 40s. I’m scared, you know? I can’t even imagine losing him. I try not to let my mind go there. I mean, it’s probably nothing serious. I just have to wait and see. My MRI came back clean. His will too, right?

I’m trying to eat healthy. I haven’t got back into exercising yet which I know is so important because it makes me somewhat sane. I should go out running or something. I need something like that. I liked when I went to hip hop classes during my manic phase and then walked home and looked pictures of leaves cutting against the sky. I liked when my limbs expanded from my flesh not necessarily my shoulder or thigh sockets but across my body out to the world, you know, clutching at a layer in the world that cuts through it all to the visceral truth that brings us back to the moment we entered the world and felt it all. Seeking the eruption  of rebirth instead of our slow slippage to scheduled obsolescence.

And yet, as a mom, I have this whole other layer of existing for the sheer purpose of raising children who exist in the world in a healthier way than I ever will. If I can help it. To teach them that it’s ok to be sad sometimes, despite my 3 year old’s stance that he is always happy when he makes the case angrily with fists bound tightly that he is “not mad” and I better believe him or else all hell breaks loose and so I’m not really doing a good job of that anyway am I.

What am I doing a good job at? I don’t know. I’m just trying to exist these days. Add some value. Determine why my son’s youngest son’s hair appears to be red. Genetically speaking (who in my family had red hair???)

I like the intro to Letting the Cabbies Sleep. It is the kind of song I’d like to experience performed live. Concerts are overrated for their cost and how short they are but maybe I haven’t attended them intoxicated enough. I need some new music. Or old. The soundtrack for now. The moment of depression, if that’s what this is. Something to get me through it. Ride the wave so it doesn’t turn into a tsunami of self destruction. I’ve done it many times. I’ll do it again. Swim horizontal to shore until the ripe tide eventually stops pulling me under. Nemo this shit. Just keep swimming.

Stay or Go or Stay Then Go? Deconstructing the last 4 years.

It’s hard to look back at the last four years and feel good about much of it, other than managing to remain employed through some serious close calls to being fired (not to mention two pregnancies.) My ego gets the best of me time and again so it’s hard to fight through these last months to get the remaining shares of my main vesting period. But outside of the good compensation, there’s a whole lot of maybe not-so-ok experiences that happened to me in the last 4 years and I just want to hash it out because I’m hurting a lot and I want to make sense of it.

2017 I join the company with an offer from a senior exec who knew me from working together years ago. The role wasn’t defined clearly but he was also very excited to have me join the team. It was a much smaller company at the time. I didn’t negotiate my compensation, but felt it was fair. I was also coming off a pretty bad situation at another startup where I was running a department and didn’t know what I was doing so I lost my job and was having trouble finding another one. I was grateful for the opportunity.

I joined the team and there wasn’t clear direction. I was given a headcount but not enough budget to hire someone with experience. I didn’t want to hire anyone so I was waiting until the right person applied and I lost the headcount because it took too long to hire. I was able to hire a freelancer to help out but still because of the comp level that person was junior. She was good for being junior but still I was figuring out the role and then trying to manage a person who was junior and that wasn’t going well. Soon after joining I was leveled and reported to a new boss. I actually got along with her at first. She didn’t want to give me any guidance on what to do, so I continued to try to figure it out on my own. But I really didn’t know what to prioritize because there were no clear goals on the team. When I asked for goals to help determine what to do I was told that I should figure out what they are with people who then would not want to collaborate with me on this, they were very territorial over setting the goals and all the things that went with achieving them. Hard to explain without revealing too much about who I am but the main point was no one was willing to be collaborative and it made me look like the bad guy who wasn’t collaborative but I couldn’t get the information needed to do the work. Maybe I wasn’t leading enough or influencing enough but because my role wasn’t clearly defined it was really fucking hard to convince anyone to work with me properly.

Meanwhile, I was pregnant with my first child all through the first year of the job. I was given a whole bunch of random projects that didn’t make sense for one role and yet I delivered on them. Then when I came back after having my first child (and my father passing away and a long bout of depression) I really struggled. What was possible to fake it through before became like walking up a hill covered in sludge. While they gave me an acceptable performance review the year I was on maternity leave, the next year I fell on my face time and again. It was a mix of not sleeping, anxiety, depression, and imposter syndrome, and still not understanding my role. Meanwhile as the company grew others were hired around me and they seemed to just fit the corporate culture better. They weren’t necessarily more talented or able, but they knew how to play the game. It was that year that I was put on a performance plan. I was devastated because I felt horrible about letting my boss down. But I was given six months to shape up or get out.

In those six months I managed to pull it together. Those six months were actually the early days of covid. And when I got pregnant with my second child. I didn’t tell my boss I was pregnant for a long time. I wanted to show her I could be a good employee without her feeling like she had to judge me lightly since I was pregnant. And I actually succeeded. Despite being exhausted in my first trimester, I managed to earn recognition for my work done in those first six months. Things were starting to look up.

But then I took on a project that seemed like a good idea. I created the plan, pitched it, and everyone seemed on board. It was going to require collaboration from the larger team. Well, once we set the plan and we were moving forward an important person was put on another project and said never mind we aren’t doing the full project, just a piece of it. I felt strongly about why we had decided to do the full project to add value to the business so I pushed on and took on more than I should have on my own. I wasn’t able to do it as good as it would have been with the support of others, but I still got something similar to the original concept done. The problem was I got it done a month late. Well, it wasn’t even month late, the date that I had given to finish my part of the project was a bit arbitrary. The whole project still launched at the deadline that was committed to the leadership team. Nonetheless, I was in major trouble over missing the deadline. I was told I’m not a leader, not a team player, etc, etc. My boss was so frustrated with me and I felt horrible.

But then we launched the project and everyone saw it as a success. Even now they refer to this project as an example of something we should do more of.

That wasn’t enough, clearly. At that point my boss had already decided to demote me and move me to a role that has a smaller scope.  While that sucked, it didn’t come with a pay decrease, and I thought the scope was more clear (that I own a certain function) so I was happy about that. My new boss, despite being a white man who thinks he knows everything, at least cared a bit about the actual tasks I would be doing and wanted to be more involved than my former boss who had given up on me. This was all during the end of this pregnancy as well, which ended up being high risk. I was a mess and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it but it really sucked.

When I came back to work this year my new role was clearly not as well defined as I thought it was. Others were doing what I thought was supposed to be my job and no one cared. I wasn’t actually owning the function at all. I was just going to work on one-off projects, pretty much only the one-off projects that no one else wanted and that would make no sense on a resume in applying for future roles. The actual good projects (in the area I supposedly owned) were being managed by other people on the team. And that hurt a lot. But I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t worth complaining at that point. Clearly they wanted me to leave.

In fact, when I went on maternity leave my former boss said she would join my performance review (with my new boss) since she was my manager the year before. But then she bailed on that meeting where I was given a 2/5 and no stock refresh or raise. While I wasn’t surprised about the low score due to missing the deadline, I also was hurt that she didn’t join this meeting. I finally got up the guts to ask her to meet to discuss the review and consider changing my score to a 3. She met with me and in so many words told me that she wasn’t kicking me out immediately but to look for another job soon. So that was that.

Meanwhile, the (single male) guy who took my former role (who happens to be a friend) is doing a good job but I’m not certain he’s doing a better job than I was doing. He tells me that he misses deadlines too. He was handed a lot of better organization already so he was able to move forward and make progress in a way I never was. Not to sell his talent short, he’s really good at his job. But so much of his success is tied to how well he speaks and how he just has this confidence that I’ll never have. And really I should have managed this guy (we hired him as my fill in when I went on maternity leave the first time) but I was never allowed to manage him so instead he now has my role. And as he’s my friend I’m happy for him but really I wonder did I suck so much at the job and is he that much better?

The reality is that I know how to manage budgets (he is self-admittedly horrible at that.) I took on some of his projects before he was promoted into the role because they should have been mine to lead in the first place and he was ignoring them and I thought they were important for the business. He didn’t care so I took over and I took on too much so that’s on me. But if I was actually set up for success in my role (where I was supposed to be leading the broader function) he would have been my employee and I would have had another employee to manage this area that was important and being ignored. That was a big mistake. But I just wanted to fix the things that mattered. Do meaningful work and add value.

I also hired a bunch of freelancers towards the end that he’s using now… if he didn’t have them I don’t think he would be able to successfully find freelancers to do the work. But I managed to get everything set up well for him to take over. So nice of me. Good thing he’s my friend. I’m rooting for him. But still, man, I feel like a sucker. And that sucks. Sucks to be a sucker.

And the kicker is that even though he was given my former role, he’s actually doing work that should be part of my new role. I’ve never had a clear job or clear objectives so there’s no real way to measure my success outside of if people like me or not (spoiler alert – they don’t.) It’s all sorts of a shit situation and I want to get out. But I also want to get out to somewhere I can start over and really go in and be a new person from the start.

I’m scared I won’t be able to find another job and I’ve started applying but I’m not getting any calls. It’s going to be a long and painful climb to get to my next position. It will probably pay less and who knows if it will be any better. I’d like to believe that a job with an actual job description and clear success criteria will be a little better.

I know I should stay until April. It’s not that far off. I hate the projects I’m working on now and part of me wants to leave before I get too into them and see how the team manages these assignments that no one else wants to do because they suck. I can’t complain really because they pay me a lot so of course I’ll do them. But I’m so over being assigned the work that no one else wants. And I hate it even more when the head of the team tells me I’m doing good work when it doesn’t matter, when I know my boss wants me out. And when I get invited to other meetings that aren’t related to my main role because now it feels like she’s just trying to motivate me enough so I might stay to finish the projects that no one else wants to do.

I know why she doesn’t like me as I’ve been the worst version of myself in this company. In meeting I get frustrated and interrupt people. Because the people who get ahead in this company are the ones who can sound like they know what they’re talking about and be “leaders” but often they are just better at talking and sounding confident. They don’t look at what makes our company different and our unique problems to solve but instead rattle off what other companies do things and seem to be caught up in being just like everyone else and that makes them so smart. Well maybe sometimes it makes sense to copy others but I love to look at problems and figure out how to fix them in a way that makes sense not just how everyone else is solving them in a generic way.

Every time I feel a tinge of frustration now I apply to another company. It doesn’t actually help since no one is calling me, but it feels good to send my resume out to the world. Unfortunately the last four years have done nothing to help me build a resume or make me a desirable candidate. This is why I’m stuck. I mean, maybe someone will hire me eventually. It seems to always happen when it feels like it won’t. When I’ve sent out thousands of resumes. Someone gets confused and thinks I’m a good person to hire. I’ve never gone more than 4 months without a job in the last 15 years. So I guess tenacity gets me hired. But each job seems to be more of a mess than the last one. Yes they may pay more, but I’m more and more suffocated.

I just want to do go good work. To solve problems. To do things in a logical way. To not have to put all of my energy into trying to be anyone but myself.

And at the end of the day I don’t have anyone to talk to about this, other than anonymous people on the internet. Because… my husband doesn’t get it. He knows I’m a hot mess and so it’s clearly my fault. Well, maybe it is. But what do I do about it? It’s my fault but it’s not getting any better. And then I feel depressed, like this deep, horrible depression that’s like a wire ripping through my gut every day because I feel guilty and like a total fuck up at the same time. But what total fuck up has managed to save $1.6M in 15 years? This one. This one right here.

So I can’t breathe again. I sometimes question at what point I call it quits for good. But I have kids now so I can’t make that choice. It just sucks to feel so alone in all of this. I try to tell myself I need to suck it up and just be better. Maybe I can be better. I don’t know. I don’t think I can be. I seem to have proven the hypothesis that I always end up sucking plenty of times over.

The Ups and Downs of Life En Route to 38.

It is strange living life with so much instability mentally.  When I was young I would tell myself that as misfit as I am, at least I knew I could be true to myself. That authenticity was so core to my identity that I never questioned if I was I was feeling or thinking was “real.” Or if it was something that would change over time. The very essence of who I am and what I care about, the impulses and objectives and all that… wasn’t that… who I am? 

Instead, over the years I’ve learned I’m a bit more complicated than that. I once cherished art and aesthetics. Now I think investment into such is meaningless, though appreciate any happiness or positive feeling that comes along with it. One example. But also my undiagnosed bipolar is not fun to accept. Not to embrace. But to rein in. To close out mistakes, despite that ink blotch dried into the fabric of life and not budging with any advanced cleaning technique. So there it is. But I don’t have to look at it. Though I do. To remember not to make any more stains. It’s important. Imperative, really.

Focusing on money is also tiring, but necessary. Eventually, I’ll be past that, I guess. When I have “enough.” Five million. So it seems. Then, I can move on from it. Have it, but not obsess over it. Though then I need a new obsession. Then my kids will be grown, probably. Unless I can get there before they hit puberty. That would be ideal. Taking my teenagers on world trips without worrying about my future. Knowing I can pay for my mother’s care in old age. All the things. I flew my sister out to visit because she doesn’t have any money and I like spending time with her (even though she constantly complains about it) and she’s the only family I have. Well, that’s $400 for a flight plus food while she’s here, and activities to keep her busy and not complaining that she would have rather used the days off to do something else. But she seemed happy to see her nephews.

Ink blotches messing with me though. So many I can ignore but had to go make a stain front and center. Why. Why let mania be so self destructive? All things considered, stain isn’t that bad, I guess. Just, embarrassing. So many other stains I just push aside. Never talk to people again, you know? A few words spilled make little difference if one can move on from the situation and try to learn from it. Except. Well, fuck. I was in such a bad place. Maybe it’s ok. I’m sick to my stomach and don’t remember the things I said. Just the gist of it. All the money in the world can’t fix that. Maybe it can fix me from any more stains in the future. Any more shouldn’t have said that or thought that. I’m sorry. Can I say that? Did I say that? Does it matter? Well. I am. And appreciative. For not saying any more. For words disappearing. For being so adult about everything. Damn mature. I’m learning. I’m old now. So I guess I need to learn. But it is chemical. I think. I don’t know.  I went crazy then. I held it together, mostly. It all could have been a lot worse. But still kicking myself. Feel like I ruined one of the best things I had. Even though I didn’t. Did I. Unclear. Just because of words. Words words words. So long ago now. What happens to time. Time happens to it.

There is an emptiness, though. Unrelatedly. It’s this hole etched in me. This longing for connection. In mania, it seems possibly to fill, like this electric current running through me. In depression, it’s just there, infinitely hollow. I just want someone to see me. That can’t be bought. I made a few people laugh this week so that felt good. My typical humor. Inappropriate. Unexpected. Sarcastic. I like that. For a moment there’s a connection. With anyone who gets it. I’d pay for a companion like that. That would be safe. Just pay someone to go to dinner or drinks or whatever and we would look into each other’s eyes and talk about things and there would be serious and not-so-serious moments and we would just be there, connecting. “We” isn’t actually any one person and it’s not a romantic thing it’s like friendship but up a notch I guess if that’s a thing, I don’t think it’s allowed to be a thing, but I’m hungry for that kind of connection, whatever it is, I don’t know what to call it. I feel lonely otherwise. Though that’s my own fault.

I’m not drinking much anymore anyway. The worst of me is drunk me. So I’ve stopped that. I drink, but slowly and deliberately and with awareness. A glass of wine or two. If I am feeling off mentally for the day I just won’t drink. Not one sip. It’s not worth it. I’m holding myself accountable for myself. I’m holding myself together. Barely. But if I can convince everyone else I’ve got it all superglued tight I guess that’s the best victory I can ask for.

So I did a probably very stupid thing and asked for my performance review to be changed.

I don’t know why I do things that will cause more harm than good, but at this point I know I’m mere days or maybe months away from getting fired and if I can’t remind those in charge about my positive contributions to the organization I really ought to have more than just one foot out the door at the moment.

I fee like absolute shit. Because even though my role has changed, I face the same challenges that had me failing in the last one. Only this time I interact with slightly less people so maybe that’s the point. Keep me in a bubble where I can do what I do best and try to limit any opportunity for growth or engaging with others in the org. It just feels like I’m being pushed out slowly. Maybe that’s the natural method in big companies. I’m used to small ones. They can’t take away my comp outside of firing me, and they can’t fire me without risking legal issues at the moment given I’m fresh off maternity leave, so they just send me ALL the signals and wait… either I take the hint or I wait until a major fuck up or next performance review season (whichever comes first) then I’m out.

I know I ought to just stay quiet and try to be invisible. That’s the smart thing to do. What I did has no real positive outcome, other than letting the big boss know about what I’ve done that’s actually good, since I’m guessing all he saw was that I got a low score and that I’m causing problems on the team and that I probably should be fired ASAP. So my message was more — hey, I agree I’m not a leader, I agree I suck at communication, I agree I’m pretty shitty in a lot of ways, but also here’s a quick list of all the good stuff I’ve done nonetheless. I don’t know. It was probably remarkably dumb like everything dumb I do so maybe not so remarkable for me. Just, typical. I’m sure my former boss is pissed and annoyed, and her side of the story would be she’s not changing the score and she’s going to fire me as soon HR will let her. I’m hoping that’s not until the end of the year if I just get shit done on time and try to communicate to the best of my ability which is never good enough.

Yea this was a dumb move. Maybe. It’s my second bad review in a row so it’s not like I have anything to stand on. She’s probably wishing she fired me last year. I get it. She probably should have. I’m grateful that she didn’t.

I don’t really feel so motivated by this review, though. More hopeless. What do I do to improve? I don’t know. A lobotomy? Perhaps. My general strategy is to stay silent but I seem to be horrible at that. The lobotomy sounds like a good idea. Perhaps complete excising of the brain. What a useless pile of mush.

I don’t yet regret sending this email, but I do regret what led up to getting the bad review. I regret that I’m incapable of consistency even though I’m capable of occasional spurts of fucking awesome work. Which doesn’t matter. People want reliability not sometimes exceptionally awesome. So. Here we go again. Down the drain spinning spinning spinning.

Did I just accelerate this flush? I guess I’ll find out soon.

To the next 23 years.

It’s nice to think I’ll live to 100, but it’s doubtful. I still plan financially for a long life “just in case” but the reality is my health is already headed downward. I can improve my health by exercising and eating healthy (which I am trying to do now slowly as I get back into thing after having a baby) but right now with my newly-diagnosed blood clotting disorder and potentially unrelated headache symptoms that have now gone on for days since getting the second covid shot, I just feel like my body at 37 is already starting to fail. So I’m giving myself 23 years. That’s how long I have until I’m 60. Anything after that, unfortunately, is gravy. I mean, my morbidly-obese cancer-stricken father made it to 67, but 60 seems like a good goal for now.

Twenty three years isn’t long at all. And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what matters to me in this life. I try to avoid thinking about death as I’m terrified of it, even though it’s inevitable, but instead I try to focus on, ok, I’ve got 23 years, or six “four year vesting periods” before I am at high risk for a variety of illnesses, should I even make it that long.

One thing I know for sure — I love being a mom. I do want a third child, but I’m not sure my body can handle it. My plan was/is to do IVF and try to have a girl (*I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this as I think gender is a social construct but it’s also a “real” social construct and a mother and her daughter tend to have a different kind of relationship compared to a mother and her sons), but as of yesterday I’m wondering if I should just let nature do her thing and if I get pregnant again I get pregnant again and if it’s a boy I should be happy with that outcome as three brothers can be nice as well. Going the natural route, as long as I can lose weight quickly, would enable me to get pregnant sooner (if I can) versus waiting to wean and start IVF. With my clotting disorder it seems like IVF may be too risky overall. I need to talk to a doctor about it. If I can’t get pregnant naturally (at 38) then we could always do IVF then, but I don’t have to make that my first option. It’s always possibly baby 3 could end up being a girl by chance, although it just as likely could end up being another boy.

And who knows if my health will allow me to safely get pregnant again anyway.  I need to lose weight, but I’m struggling a lot this time. I don’t feel like I’ve been eating a ton lately yet the scale is stuck at 188-192 and it keeps bouncing back up. I’m avoiding most sugars and have really improved my diet yet here I am. I need under 180 fast to relieve what my weight is doing to my body and then continue to work to get it down much further. If I do get pregnant again, I want to start the pregnancy at or as close to a healthy BMI as possible (which means losing 50lbs!) which given I’m struggling to lose .5lb a week will take, uh, forever. I do remember last baby I didn’t lose a lot of weight until a year in when baby started eating food and breastfeeding less. Then the weight started to come off. And I dropped 10lbs in March last year but that’s because I either had COVID or pandemic-induced anxiety and didn’t eat much in a month and was walking miles a day. I need to start walking that much again and I’d like to be able to lose weight while still eating (healthfully.)

This headache situation is no fun right now though. It’s honestly scaring me. I’m hoping it’s just long-term side effects from the vaccine and will go away soon. It’s been this on and off stabbing pain throughout the left side of my head. I took Excedrin this morning and it transformed into a huge amount of pressure, then my left arm and face felt heavy. I’ve been lying down and feel a little better, but afraid to get up. I’m slightly nauseous. I just want to feel myself again.

The stress of going back to work isn’t helping. I’m trying to refrain from getting stressed as it seems to be a trigger for my recent uptick in medical issues but I just have more and more anxiety by the day. It’s not like my old-time anxiety that I hand somewhat a handle on. I just feel like the weight of the world and so many things is crippling. I’m behind on EVERYTHING. So, gosh, why do I want another kid? Well, the only thing in my life that feels right at the moment is being a mom. And I think I’m a pretty good mom thus far. I can be a pretty good mom to two children but to me family is really everything and there isn’t much of one out here on the west coast so I need to rebuild that. Hopefully I’ll live longer than those 23 years and I can enjoy many years with my children and maybe even their children too. It’s crazy to think how old I’ll be (if I’m still around) when they might have kids. Makes me wish I had my children younger, I just wasn’t thinking about “the other side of it” when putting off having my kids until my mid 30s. I’m glad I had my 20s but it wouldn’t have hurt much to start having kids in my earlier 30s. My dad would have even gotten to meet my firstborn and to this day it kills me that he wasn’t able to meet his grandchild, when I know that would have really made him so happy. And he’ll never know about his second grandson or whoever else might come next. I remain heartbroken.

I want a family. A big-ish one. I want to turn this house into a home somehow. It doesn’t feel like one yet. Or maybe sell this house and buy another place that feels more like a home one day. This place is just a bunch of boxes. Rooms that are all the wrong size and put in an odd layout. I can fix it up but probably never will. The bathroom remodel took a toll with all the decisions. Probably better to sell and move. To the city where I wanted to buy. Though houses go for $1000+ a square foot there, more in the areas we’d want to be. It’s insane. And I don’t see myself moving into a well-paid role… ever again. I can’t handle the pressure. I need something that is more stable and lower stress. For my health. It was fine when it just impacted my mental health but now that it’s putting me at risk for an early death or other issues that could disable me I just want to part in that game. I’m hanging on for dear life for the next eight months to get the last of my stock but after that I’m reevaluating everything. I just want time. The most precious resource of all.

I’m scared, too, that a manic episode will return. I’m so far removed now from the one I had in 2019. My therapist won’t believe me about it, she thinks I’m just depressed. It’s terrifying when you lose control over what you say and do. For the most part the whole time period was quite benign, but I definitely regret some things I said. I don’t know who I was then. I was someone else. It’s sad that I felt GOOD then, like I was entertaining and charismatic and all the things I want to be in my vat of awkwardness. Clearly I wasn’t any of that at the time, but I felt that way. Now I’m on the other end of it, I guess. I don’t even know if I’m depressed. I’m just tired. Tired of chasing after — proving that I can “do this” whatever this is. “Not failing.” Making money. Growing that money. Buying a house. Keeping the house. Being an adult. Supporting a family. I’m grateful for it all and know I don’t deserve any of it. Yet it’s still hard to hold on. I power through the days. I count down the weeks. I watch the clock pass by until it’s night again and I can close my eyes to sleep for 6 hours straight if lucky. And yet I know one day I’ll look back at these moments and miss them too. Isn’t that funny. These are the best days. I want to start feeling like they are.

The Least Qualified Candidate of All

You want to know why the thought of downing one too many pills crosses my mind every time I read job postings? They are just another jarring reminder that I have absolutely no employable skills and I’m pretty much fucked at this point. It feels incredibly lonely to be in this, well, alone. My husband doesn’t seem to get it— he knows I lose my job over and over again but he also sees me somehow pick up with another role and better pay somewhere else. But it won’t happen this time. No, this time I am actually screwed.

If I knew how to gain relevant experience I would leap at the opportunity but I have no idea how to learn things that would actually get me a job. You want to know where I fail?

1. Great communication skills – nah, I suck at communication—both spoken and written. Next.

2. Ability to influence others and work well with many different types of people. No. Everyone pretty much hates me or thinks I’m a joke.

3. Management experience. Being real here — I am overwhelmed managing people because hello – I can’t even manage myself.

4. Data skills – ok so I could learn some data skills, but which ones? And I can’t actually apply them at my job since no one seems to care about my work’s ROI so how do I have an actual story to tell on KPIs and all that?

I just feel so defeated. People think I’m exaggerating but it is that bad. My new role makes no sense. Any other role like this one at another company would require technical skills and pay a lot less. But I can’t get hired in my old role because I was never qualified for it in the first place. I’ve never been qualified for any of the jobs I’ve had since I graduated from college 15 years ago. I don’t know anything useful. I make it all up. I guess sometimes making it up works but not over time and certainly not at companies that have their shit together.

I look at my kids and feel like a complete and utter failure. How can I sustain this? I am crying all the time because I’m scared. Not yet that we will lose the house — I have savings to cover that for a while. But I may lose the tiny bit of sanity that I have left.

I just want to be good at my job. Is that so much to ask? But If my job involves interacting with other humans it doesn’t seem to go all that well.

There are roles out there I think I would enjoy — but I messed up by not being an engineering major 20 years ago, and by not paying attention in math class in second grade. Maybe it’s possible to change careers, but it absolutely feels too late for most of my dreams.

The career I’m interested in that may be possible has starting salaries of about 85k if my lucky. Here that isn’t much. Maybe it would be a path to liking my job eventually? It’s hard to give up on jobs that pay $200k-$300k for one that pays $85k or less but — I need a change. I need a path where maybe in a few years I can feel halfway decent. I need a job where I can work and be promoted, not demoted. But can we make it work on less salary? And even then I’ll be compared to other who are far more talented than I am. Younger and more talented. Who would hire me anyway? The job postings say “clearly nobody.”

So what do I do? Yes I ride this job out a while longer. I go back and save as much as possible. I set aside a large emergency fund. Then what? I want to provide for my family. I also want to sell this $7k a month house and move to the middle of nowhere—but my husband won’t have that conversation until I’ve exhausted all options and likely have ended up in a mental hospital. If he could earn more it would help but then he wouldn’t be able to watch the kids and he would be stressed which would make it all harder too. In many ways I like being the breadwinner and having a husband who can watch the kids and go on vacation whenever makes sense (not that we ever do.) I know I can’t have it all and i do want to work I just want to feel like I’m suited for my career and I’m not constantly falling on my face — but also that I can save for retirement and my kid’s futures with my income. So where does that leave me? Do I just keep pretending… 2 years here, 3 years there… until my working life is over? How long can I really do this for? One more year. If that.

Looking Ahead to What’s Next and Getting Through the What’s Now

I really, really, really want to stay in my job until at least the end of this year. I know it won’t be the end of the world if I don’t make it that far (even a few months into the year and I’ll have earned more than every single prior year of my life with the exception of 2020) — but, BUT… I really want to do this. I want to somehow, in the middle of a pandemic, in the first year as a mom to my second child, while trying to ignore the gnawing sensation of my ego being constantly ripped apart by a boss who has banished me from any semblance of leadership and telling me, flat out, that I will never, ever be a leader, hold on and get through it without any more wounds along the way.

But I’m also–exhausted. Sad. Upset with myself but also at the system that’s just… against working parents and especially new moms. I’ve got too many issues, I guess. If my mental health alone wasn’t enough to destroy my hopes of job stability, then we add in my having children. I don’t regret having children. But it does make it harder. Having to wake up every few hours to feed my child with my own body, well, that makes it harder. And I wish I could have stood up for myself more–but I’m not sure how that would have helped. Does anyone care why I’ve struggled? That’s just more reason to say I’ll never be a leader. So what if I tend to babble more on my worst days? I babble enough on my best ones. I’m not a leader. Not this type of a leader. Maybe not any type. I don’t have that kind of energy. I’m not consistent. I’m a ball of energy that can come in and explode and then need time to pick up the pieces and inflate again.

Maybe there could have been a little more support? I don’t know. On one hand, I’m completely to blame. I don’t expect anyone to hand hold here. On the other, some companies went out of their way to support working parents. To cancel performance reviews for the year. To provide time off and flexible hours. Others, like mine, expected us to just keep up. When I failed to meet a deadline there was no discussion of how I’m doing the best I can in a global pandemic while parenting a toddler and dealing with the exhaustion of pregnancy. I mean, who cares, right? I missed the fucking deadline. That I set. So, that’s on me. All of it’s on me. I shouldn’t have set an unrealistic deadline. And any deadline would have been unrealistic because my anxiety made it impossible to get the work done until I already was late and had failed. I can only do good work when failure is not only imminent, but it’s a sure thing. I can’t blame anyone but myself for that.

I don’t think the work was good anyway. But I guess it wasn’t bad. It seems some people thought it was ok. It doesn’t matter. I’m a never leader. And I cry about this every fucking day. Because she’s right. Because I can’t hold it together.

But my problem isn’t that I’m a never leader. Well, it’s that. But it’s more I can’t be relied on to do anything when anyone else is relying on me. That’s not a leadership issue, that’s an ability to keep a job issue. That’s an issue that has plagued me since I was fired from my first job as an admin assistant to every single job where I found myself too panicked to get work done. Why? I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t feel confident in the quality of my work. It wasn’t perfectionism, it was being embarrassed by how bad I was at my job because I didn’t know what I was doing. Sometimes I put out good work but in the grande scheme of things I never know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t have the confidence or ability to fake confidence so people lose trust in me. They move on. They aren’t on my side, they’re against it. They say shit about me behind my back. They wonder why I’m still employed. Until I’m not.

This is a problem.

I could have been good at this job, too. I mean, I’m a never leader but at the very least I had some decent ideas, if anyone cared to listen. I had my hands tied. I tried to be collaborative, as I was told I was working in a silo and this was bad. Then I was told I was too collaborative, which is not leadership either.

It’s hard enough trying to navigate all this not as a tired pregnant mom in the middle of a pandemic, you know?

Is this an excuse or reality or a little bit of both? How much harder could I have worked? There was too much spinning and I was spun out. Off to “lead” a function that no one wants to fund properly and I must wait to be told what to do. And even in this role I managed to already mess up in a meeting where my former boss basically was on the verge of firing me at the end of it because I was a babbling mess.

I don’t think it’s this job. I think it’s my inability to do well in any job. So I need to fix that. But how? I have no fucking idea.

Junior level jobs still require you to be good at communication. Get shit done on time. The basic things I am bad at. What I’m good at is strategy and planning. But you don’t get to do a lot of that at the junior level. I just wish I knew what the fuck I was doing. Will I ever? Not when I’m this tired.

I go back to work in 2 months. That’s a world away but then it will be here in the blink of an eye. It all goes so fast. If I’m as tired then as I am now then I don’t know how I will make it. If I’m WFH that’s a good thing as I don’t have to drive half asleep commuting to the office but I do have to keep my eyes open on long zoom calls and try to appear alive when I’m clearly not. At least I’ll be too tired to physically appear jealous or sad or whatever when my work friend who is now in my former job is saying shit in a way that shows just how good someone can be at sounding like a leader as a reminder how I’ll never ever ever be that.

She’s right.

I don’t know what I’m good at. If anything. I just know I’m tired. Tired of constantly walking smack into walls. Tired of living on little sleep. Tired of being tired. Tired of reading articles about how working moms are not supported in society and feeling all righteous and angry for every other working mom out there but then when I turn to myself I feel guilty for absorbing any of that anger against “The Man” for me because I don’t deserve any of that pity or sympathy or empathy or whatever support should come with it, right? Other moms, they deserve to be provided something to get them through this but me? I’m failing for some other reason. My own reason. My own messed up issues that aren’t going away even when the pandemic is long gone and my kids are grown. I can’t ask for help because I don’t know what would help anyway other than maybe a personal cheer squad that tells me my work isn’t shit so I can just get onto the next thing and the next. Is it shit? I don’t know.

And I was on a performance plan a year ago and my boss clearly did that as a safe way to get me out and then I briefly was doing ok and that saved me for a short while and she was all excited that I managed to turn things around until I turned into a pile of shit sandwich on the floor. I feel and about it. I wanted to prove her wrong. Instead, I proved her right.

So I’m sad. And tired. And what’s new?

Wanting a Life That Isn’t About Making It to the Next Vest.

My spreadsheet has some good news — if I can hold out four more vesting periods, I’ll be able to afford taking a job with lower pay for a few years while I sort out a better career path. “All I have to do is just survive until 2022, and then… things will be better. Somehow. Or, at least different.” I think this to myself over and over again as my fast-growing toddler and infant cling to me and I realize that a year from now my infant and toddler will be, well, a year older–a big year of changes and growth that I don’t want to miss. I don’t want to “just survive.”

Then–there’s the fact that I’m almost 40. Fuck. How’d that happen? 40. It is just another year and yet it is–fucking forty. That’s old. No offense to my readers who are 40 or much older. Because there’s nothing wrong with being old. And certainly when you’re 70, 40 seems young. It’s a matter of perspective. But it’s one of those ages that when you’re a kid and when you’re 21 you think is old. Not to be morbid, but random people start to die at 40. Not a lot of people. And it happens before 40. And others live to 110. But you hear things like… just today actor Dustin Diamond died at 44. Cancer. He found out about it 3 weeks ago and just like that, he’s gone.

I don’t think I’ll die in my 40s just because I’m turning 40–but I certainly feel my mortality in a way I didn’t in my 20s or 30s. Time is always finite, but it is–finiter. And being 37 thinking “man, I just want to survive until I’m 39” doesn’t sit right, even if it means I’ll have (maybe) $500k more in my bank account. It’s fine to want to get through the year and do a good job at work to earn my keep and then some, but I’m so so so tired of spending my life waking up every day thinking how do I get to the next X. Friday. Vest date. Year end.

I’ve lost all passion for living. Not that I had a ton, ever. But I used to look forward to things in the short term. I don’t know how to anymore. Occasionally I look up and see my toddler cuddling with my husband and I feel like I’m watching my life as if it were a movie. How cute they look. What a perfect father and son. A little boy who is no longer a little infant who is no longer a combination of DNA in my belly. A little boy who soon will be a big boy and then a man with little time in between to even notice the transformation unless I’m paying close attention. And here I am, waking up each day thinking how I’ll survive to 2022.

I’m not going to change this mentality any time soon. Surviving until 2022 is still a major goal of mine. As I’ve mentioned before many times, it is the winning lottery ticket that I just need to keep in my hands for a short time via quality and on-time work and then the proceeds can significantly impact the stability of my family’s future. I just want to figure out how to stop playing my life like it’s a game and just start living it. But how?

I don’t know if this is depression or if it’s just what happens when you’re an adult who has lost her way. I don’t know if I take some pills to boost my dopamine that I’ll suddenly feel “in” my life again. Like, is this actually chemical? Is this why in periods of mania and/or depression I find myself craving chaos, something that shocks the system and provides a different sense of time. I get that from some healthy things… like starting a new job, for the first few months. Those early wins. The first months where unconscious bias of your hiring manager gives you the benefit of the doubt and tells themself you can do no wrong — after all, they hired you and you must be great. Your work proves them right.  You’re a shining star, picking things up so quickly. Impressively so. Until you’re not. Until everything great is expected of you, and anything less than excellent causes grave concern and achieving success becomes a higher hill to climb each time. The novelty is gone. It’s just another job. And you’re just another employee.

There’s seeking that thrill in work, there’s not finding it there and accidentally chasing it in real life. There’s stepping back and slapping yourself in the face with a big reality check and a reminder that your life isn’t meant to be some crazy adventure. Stability is good. Enjoying the little moments is what it’s all about. There is no plot. No  winning. No game. Well, the only winning is–actual survival. The health of your family. Helping your kids solve challenges. Inspiring them to do so on their own. Changing their many diapers. Getting them ready to face adulthood a little (or a lot) better than you did. Watching them grow. Spending time with your parents and other family members as long as they have left. Talking about meaningless whatevers. Disagreeing and debating for the sake of social entertainment. That’s life. That’s what maters.

Survival is pathetic. It’s basically a form of long-term suicide. Just watching the months and years go by. Experiencing all of it from the outside. Afraid and uncomfortable. Unable to say the right things but somehow perfectly capable of saying all the wrong ones. So you just get through it all. You kick yourself, constantly, for all the things you’ve said wrong. You wish to start over. You run from your past, even if your past was just a few minutes ago. Your life is survival and escape. And you’re so tired of it. You want to be normal. Happy? Maybe. At least just living for the moment instead of trying to get through the moment. It may be a pill is needed to make that possible.  A pill to fill my mind with the chemicals needed to wake the fuck up and fall in love with life before it’s too late. Hopefully there’s plenty of time life. But there’s never enough. So why waste it wishing the days disappear as fast as they appear? No good reason. This has to change. It must.

 

36 Weeks Pregnant and Maybe a Less Depressing Post

Sorry for all the depressing posts lately. I just feel super overwhelmed. I’m looking forward to meeting my new baby. Lots of things are going well in my life. I just wish I could find a way to be happy with what I have. I know I have SO MUCH but nothing feels right, if that makes any sense. I don’t feel settled. This house isn’t helping. It certainly doesn’t feel like home. I probably could make it feel like home with enough purchases and remodeling, but the costs to do that are so high I feel like, why bother until I have, like $5M saved up. Then… maybe I can splurge a bit. Beyond the $75k splurge of remodeling one bathroom and putting in AC and a new electric panel and functional garage door.

Most of all, I just want to figure out the storage situation in this house. Christmas was lovely yesterday, but now my son’s new toys (complete with about 100 new parts) are all over our family room floor. Because we moved from a 1 bedroom apartment we just don’t have that much furniture. I know I can buy IKEA or used stuff, but I want to have “nice things” in my home to make it feel more like a home. Not designer pieces or anything… but sturdy, nicely made cabinets and such. I don’t want to buy crap because I know we’ll keep it forever as we did with our prior broken pieces.

So I’m trying to strategize on what to buy when, but it’s just overwhelming. We do need a kitchen table, so that’s probably first. But there’s also just so much space in this house that is wasted and I want to use it for storage. The hallway, for example, is extra wide, while the bedrooms are small. It seems ripe for putting in some good storage. But then, it will cost a lot…

And I’m really feeling like this isn’t our forever home. Maybe I’ll change my mind on that in a few years, but it’s just boxy and has no character. It works. It’s fine. Our bedroom is in the living room and after spending $1.7M on a house I still feel like I’m living like someone who just graduated from college. I guess that is probably what is bothering me the most. I bought this place because it has potential… but who can afford to make potential what it can be in the Bay Area? Maybe I should have spent more. Or at least bought in the city where I feel at home. Why did I buy here? Well, I was running from things as per usual. It was a bit more affordable as well, but really… I just wanted to move far from my job so I have NO EXCUSES when it comes to looking for something new in a year. I needed. change. Since I was 17 I’ve moved every 4 years or so. Or less. I felt restless. I was going crazy. New city. New everything. Except we happened to move close to some old friends which happened by accident as I’m super confused about the geography of where we live. That’s how little I know about this area.

But then I realized I’m sad I left the place where I want to be. I mean, it’s only a 40 minute drive away. And long term this area may be better for my career. Even though I’m far from certain jobs, there are a number of companies within a 15 minute drive. If I can score a position at one of them then I’ll be able to come home from work and see my kids more often (once I’m back at an office.) That’s really important to me. And the area does seem family friendly. If I can make friends with other families with young kids then that will help too. Right now it’s just impossible with the pandemic. And it’s always impossible with my awkwardness and social anxiety (people who say you just meet people through your kids don’t understand what it’s like to have crippling social anxiety) but at some point maybe I can make some friends and have some kind of a life again. Maybe I’ll end up liking it here.

Or maybe I won’t. I need to focus — eye on the prize. $3M then more.  Get to the point where I can buy furniture for my house and paint the walls a color I like and put in new flooring and revamp the landscaping so it feels like my home, not someone else’s that I’m living in temporarily. Or move. Probably move. It is stupid we didn’t just rent but — it’s ALSO good to have this home as a test run. We’re learning a lot about home ownership and what we want to buy. Unfortunately it took buying a home to do this, but we’re ready to be smart homebuyers now! Hopefully if we sell we won’t lose too much. I’m expecting to lose about $100k on this house if we sell in 3 years, which is pretty crappy but it is the price of figuring out what we want and what matters most. If I can keep earning and growing my net worth it will be ok. Sucky, but ok. And I think it will actually be fun to shop for a HOME when the pandemic is over and our oldest son is old enough to come with us and help us pick out a place. Who knows what the market will be like then, but if it’s up then my house will be worth more to sell and if it’s down then houses where I want to buy will be more affordable, maybe.

I also had a pretty major realization yesterday morning in my half-waking moments about my career path. I figured out something I could do and actually even be VP of where I probably could thrive. I was thinking about all the things I’ve done in the past few years that were successful and a light bulb went off. I really need a job where I can have a team and where I run strategy and don’t get in the weeds on the projects. The opposite of my job now! But, the good news is that my new role, while super in the weeds, is really forcing me to learn how to project manage and time manage in a way I haven’t before. My boss is REALLY good at this stuff, and I’m learning a lot from him. So I’m feeling pretty confident about landing a role that is a much better fit in a year when I start looking. This year will still be rough (and I have to get my shit together and be ON TOP of things) but I think I can do it. I need to completely ignore the stock vesting because it gives me so much anxiety to think about this lotto ticket I’m holding on to for dear life (I mean, when else in my life will I be looking at a year where it’s possible I will make $1M — or anything close to that?) Can you blame me for feeling anxious and distracted? I guess that would motivate some people. For me all I can think about is how if I fuck up I’m throwing away SO MUCH MONEY and all I have to do is NOT BE A TOTAL FUCK UP right now.

Easier said than done looking ahead at a year with a toddler and a newborn. But I’ve got a path to making it work. A year ago, being put on a PIP by my boss and basically being slowly pushed out the door, I fought for my right to stay. With nothing to lose (because I figured I was getting fired anyway) I suddenly could focus on my work. I just need that energy again. And to ignore the potential earning. It helps to think about how many people I work with are likely earning a lot more than I am (which is crazy) due to being in more senior roles or negotiating better or just joining even earlier. It is just insane. Especially in the world we live in right now where so many people are struggling and then there’s our little tech bubble where stock prices are going up and up and up. It’s bizarre. I am both grateful and terrified, and horrified.

Anyway, I’m enjoying watching the sunrise out of my window. This doesn’t feel like home but it’s still a nice place to be for now. Maybe it will grow on me. Or maybe I will grow on me and figure out a way to earn more and have a stable career so we can move back where I really want to be. I just need to figure out how to chill out and be happy with what we have for now. And enjoy the next weeks of being a mom of one and the many ahead of being a mom of two. Because life is happening whether I like it or not. And I’m tired of wasting it feeling like a complete failure and mental basket case. I’m at least not manic right now. The more that I think about it the more I realize that I am super bipolar and that makes me sad too. Because I need to deal with that at some point. Or at least figure out how to not let my moods change my personality and make me do stupid things. I mean, thank G-d I didn’t do anything too stupid, but it could have easily gone past embarrassing myself in a number of cases to total self destruction. I am still sitting here thinking WTF happened in 2019 and who was I?  And how do I avoid that happening again in the future? I know it wasn’t a one time thing. I’ve had phases of life where I’ve been more manic. Like this engine was running. Like I was just alive and connecting with others and it felt good at the time. But then… that’s fantasy world. That’s insanity. I’m glad I’m not there now. I want to erase all of it. But I also realize that whatever this is – this depression–is just as “not real” and one day I’ll come out of it, I guess. I’ll look back and wonder why I was so sad and hopeless.

It’s safer here though. The depression is a much safer place to be. I know who I am here. I maybe am hyper sensitive and irritable but I at least feel like I’m grounded in logic. Whereas mania is different. It’s… it’s taking the things I feel and think that I know are absolutely ridiculous and making them seem possible. Sometimes that is good, I guess. One can be extremely creative and productive in those periods. But then it feels like anything that isn’t attached to that heightened existence is numbing. It’s a drug and you need more of it. Like you’re always on the verge of some incredible release that can only be achieved by ripping yourself apart or being a character in a story that isn’t meant for real life. And then, I guess, at some point, you snap out of it. You come back to earth. You think — oh my god — what did I say? Who was I then? How can I look my friends and family in the eye again, if they happened to be involved in any of this craziness? You fall into this deep depression out of being embarrassed and ashamed. You wonder if/when you’ll be that person again. You try to explain this to your therapist but she doesn’t understand exactly. Or you don’t really tell her because you are that ashamed of it. You don’t really want the diagnosis. Depression is ok. It’s kind of quaint. It’s ok to hate yourself too much. But is it ok to love yourself too much? Not that loving oneself is really what mania is… it’s also a form of self hatred. But in my case, it’s just wanting to be loved with such intensity, to find some kind of outer worldly connection to something. The opposite of numb. The opposite of aging and adulting and absoluting. I see why it’s so compelling. And I am so scared of falling back into it.

So for now, I am better off in this sad space. It’s safe. It’s not crazy. I still can find little moments of happiness here. I hope this is where I stay through the next year at least. So I can push through this last year of vesting and reevaluate everything when I’m close to $3M net worth. It is one year. I need to hold my breath, not do anything else stupid, and get through it. I’m going to do it.

Oh, and I bought a Roomba.

Suicide Via Actual Adulthood

I decided I don’t want to die. That is, I don’t want to suffer some horrible too-soon death caused by some sort of self-inflicted attempt to put an end to awareness. I have not interest in dying if I can avoid it. However, I very much would like to disappear—and not literally either.

I’m just so tired of my mind. I’m tired of caring about things or wishing things were a certain way and always being disappointed. I’m tired of wanting anything. It gets me no where. My husband is constantly upset at me because I’m selfish and complain too much. It doesn’t actually get me anything other than a pissed off husband. So i decided in 2021, I want to kill myself—with no death involved. Hear me out.

This will be a positive in my personal and professional life. The second I stop allowing my ego to control my emotions and put 100% of my attention on making other’s happy (or at least not not happy) then people will like me more. If I have no specific goals or wants outside of supporting my family and colleagues, then I won’t be disappointed.

I am not a good person or a mentally healthy one. But I don’t have to be a bad person. I can control my emotions by accepting I do not exist for my own satisfaction. I do not need to feel like I “fit in” anywhere because I never will. It’s impossible. Yes, I’m lonely alone and lonelier around everyone else. I don’t know what to say or do or how to act around others. If I drink (when not pregnant) it gets ugly even though at the time I feel like I’m actually engaging with others successfully until I sober up and realize whatever I said was the opposite of a social success.

This is not a self pity woe is me post. This is acceptance. It’s time to grow up. It’s time to take myself out of the equation. So what if I’m not thrilled with the house we bought. It’s our house now so I should accept that and not dwell on its imperfections. I think gratitude is important as well, but you don’t even need to be grateful if you remove your ego from your life. Or, you don’t allow anyone else to see it. You fade into your skin and smile and nod and try to be that person who everyone just likes for no particular reason. You are so reliable and punctual and just have such a good, stable attitude. You aren’t funny or anything special, but you are consistent. You can keep your house clean and stick to a routine and eat healthy and exercise every day. You don’t lose your job every 1-4 years. You take credit for nothing because you exist to keep things moving forward without any recognition or reward. That is, the reward is never being disappointed because you never want anything at all. And you simplify everything so you don’t lose things or break things that have any significance. As long as your family is healthy then that is all that matters. That is the best way to be.

So as I look ahead to 2021, I’m saying goodbye. Goodbye from the person I was and hello from the person I desperately need to become. I think it’s possible. And necessary.  Because I have no ability to be happy without being special somehow, which isn’t healthy. Instead, I need to accept that being like everyone else is victory. It will lead to a much better life.