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HiDeeHo

"Some calls it madness...I calls it HiDeeHo." - Cab Calloway
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Friday, November 22, 2002

GODS AND GODDESSES HELP US

This sort of thing should never EVER happen. I mean, getting wrapped up in your work is one thing, but to this extent? No. No. No.

posted by Julie Neff  # 11/22/2002 01:40:00 PM

Thursday, November 21, 2002

IF THIS HAD BEEN AN ACTUAL EMERGENCY

I'm facing the potential of yet another transfer, this time back to Florida. Argh. I'm pinballing within this company, back and forth, you can do this but you can't do that, blah blah blah...you know, there's a branch in Madison...why can't you just transfer me to a branch an hour away from my house? Why? Why won't you tell me how I'm getting paid? Why do you have to make this so difficult? What the hell kind of games do you corporate people play and why why why?????

I'll give up the paid-for Roadrunner and free computer if I have to...after all, they know and love me at the local library. Just give me a steady base of operations for once and quit fucking with my paycheck.

I'm going to give the Miami branch a shot, and if that doesn't work out, I'm bailing on this company for good. Heads up.

posted by Julie Neff  # 11/21/2002 01:39:00 PM

Wednesday, November 20, 2002

DOWNTIME

It's not just me. Others are feeling the weight of obligations, bad choices and just having made it this far and saying, okay now what? I won't say who, 'cos I don't know them that well, but they're out there. Letting ourselves be taken care of is the hardest thing. Like a wise person once said, none of us are truly self-sufficient and we are wrong to think we should be.

BUT STILL...
There is nothing more heartwrenching than having your 5-year-old child look at you with pity. She knows not even to ask "Mom, what's the matter?" anymore. She taxes and strengthens my resolve simultaneously. Fear of disappointing your child(ren), even more than fear of disappointing a spouse, other family or even parents, will keep you running. The fuel is running perilously low, though...ah, this is just life. You slide down the good ol' slippery slopes and hope that the ends are turned up just enough that you can catch air and not land in the pile of merde at the bottom, but perhaps beyond it a bit, just so you can say, man am I glad I missed that. Then you get up, dust yourself off, and walk away.

DIAGNOSIS
Like many many many others, I seem to suffer from moderate-to-severe seasonal depression. Damn near killed me back in '96. I have a light on my desk to shine on me, as the therapists and Psy.D.s and M.D.s recommend. It doesn't hurt my eyes, but it does give everything a very PINK, almost retail-lighting cast. I'm not so sure I like it. I'll give it a go, though. I'll keep the candles alit and the incense a-burning and the baths a-running and the cookies a-baking, and, Gods and Goddesses help me, the pen a-scratching. So I need some hand-holding and blind-leading-blind guidance. Who better than my very own here/not here piece of substantial octarine fluff? Remind me of when we were on top of the world this summer and nothing came between us, not space, not time nor anything. Remind me of what we wanted and how we were going to do it, how we would make the most of our kingdom...



posted by Julie Neff  # 11/20/2002 09:05:00 AM

Monday, November 18, 2002

BUZZKILL DU JOUR

You know how you have those days where everything seems to go wrong all at once? The day you realize once and for all that you hate your new job worse than anything else you've ever done and you suspect your bosses are trying to get you to quit because of how harsh they're being, the day when any words of love or encouragement sound hollow and false, the day your daughter makes her own lunch and 'forgets' to use a plate, the day when the sun never rises and the sky just gets slightly lighter, the day that this guy (stalker) that you talked to a year or more ago and tried to blow off calls you back, the day when that third migraine of your life decides to start, the day that you lament having gone off Prozac, the day when no one can say or do anything to help and your most unattractive, unlovable and inhumane characteristics decide to take the stage? Today is that day. I feel as though I can't even breathe in and out correctly without drawing some criticism.

This is not prettily morbid poetry-writing depression. This is more of the paralyzed into inaction, stuck in an uncomfortable rut kind. Without going into too much detail, I'm walking a knife-edge of responsibilities, going through the motions and trying to forget that I was ever free to come and go as I pleased and had the balls to say what I thought when I thought it.

Josh remains a constant beacon of hope and laughter and goof. Again, I bless the day I found him, or he found me, or whatever. Now is the kind of time when one realizes priorities. I think he may be the guardian of my zwhahd-veev and *whee* while I don't have them easily to hand, because I don't want to misplace them as long as I have in the past, or place them in the hands of those who don't really care how I feel as long as I keep bringing home the cash.

I'm also doing the tightrope act without a net called relapse prevention. Oh, I didn't even mention that before. Yeah, well, I think if I can get through today...there's always tomorrow.

posted by Julie Neff  # 11/18/2002 02:52:00 PM

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