(Not) Employee of the month

Today I was late for work. Again. It was just 5 minutes but it still counts as a mark on my payroll. Last week there was a day when I was half an hour late. I’ve yet to celebrate the day when I’m not running around and driving like all hell broke loose just to be on time and of course, just like today, there are days when even that’s not good enough because in a place like Mexico’s City there’s just no way of predicting when traffic’s going to be demential, and that’s why one should always leave with a lot of time on their pocket.

I always set my alarm with plenty of time, but when I turn it off I just go back to sleep. I’ve even recruited BF to call me and convince me to get the fuck off bed, sometimes it works… most times it doesn’t. He says I always agree to get up, and make small affirmations like “Ok, I’m getting up, I’ve turned the light on, I’m gonna go get my clothes..” and so on, but the moment we hang up I get my lazy ass back in the sheets, there doesn’t seem to anything that motivates me enough to do otherwise.  I’ve given him lines that might work well, I’ve told him to remind me that I have to be professional, that I have responsibilities, that if I get up I’ll have enough time to actually enjoy my morning coffee, nothing works! In those precious moments I can’t think straight and just can’t find any good reason to get up and live.

I know this is a symptom related to my depression, but it hurts just the same to know I’m far, far away from being employee of the month. I’m used to being the best, or at least one of the best, and now I’m experiencing a period where I’m scratching not even being good enough, it’s hard to be a constant disappointment to myself. I know this job isn’t what I want for my life, but it’s a job, and I’m adult, or at least I claim to be, so it should be easy!

I’ve tried going to bed early, setting tons of alarms, promising myself expensive on-the-go-coffee or yummy homemade one, none of it works! What do you do when you have to get up early? Is it too hard? Do you have any good methods for getting out of bed? They’d be much appreciated!

It’s just sad

Trigger warning: self-harm is dealt with in this post.

So I talked to Mr. Shrinky about cutting one session from my treatment. He wasn’t happy about it but he understood, and said something that made my heart clinch a bit, that went a more or less like this: “it’s just sad that your emotional part has to pay up for the mess your outer part has made”. This remark hurt me a little, but not because I thought the comment was hurtful in any way, because it’s true. I just don’t know how to take care of my emotional being. I feed and clothe myself, I can manage to get by society’s requirements in a not-so-dreadful kind of way, but I just don’t know what to do with my inner me.

She’s always been left to mend for herself, and when she just can’t handle the pain anymore and sends s.o.s. signals to the outside, that’s when I cut, I cut until the pain is balanced between the outside and the inside. Or sort of anyways. I did it again on Saturday night, my anxiety pain was just too much, I felt I couldn’t breathe, it was surprising I wasn’t fainting or something thanks to it. And it felt good because it was soothing in a way, caring for my wounds felt as close to caring for my inner me as I could get at that point. And little me has way too much on her shoulders to begin with, and now she indeed has to pay for outer me’s rampage.

It just dawned on me right now that I really haven’t talked much about all the stuff that got me here in the first place, I guess I’m taking baby steps into it. When I first started this blog all I knew was that I needed to write and be read, even by just a handful of people. Writing has always been an amazingly powerful therapy for me, no matter what the topic is, and so I blogged about Mexico’s elections, the #132 movement, and the-thesis-that-must-not-be-named.

But then one night I felt like sharing a little about me, and a little more in another post, and next thing I know elections are out the window and I’m sharing my inner demons for the world to see. It was something entirely new and exhilarating in a way…though it was and continues to be scary and threatening because I don’t know who might read this and if they’ll judge me, and because talking about me in any form has never come easy for me.

So far I couldn’t be more pleased with what I’ve gotten from blogging, most importantly the people I met through doing it. Empirically finding out you’re not alone and that there are people going through stuff you can relate to, well it helps a long way, so thank you for being there!

P.D.

I know I know, this post is all over the place, but these were things I needed to get of my chest.

Stray Bullet

I’ve managed to do it again. Self sabotage is apparently something I can never get enough of. I was supposed to meet my tutor today to show her my progress on the chapter I’m currently working in. The meeting was just an hour after I leave work so I had to run to get there…just to tell her I had left at home the above mentioned progress (not that it was anything to be proud of in the first place). At first I hoped it wouldn’t matter all that much since we had to get into the corrections I thought she was going to give me from the last chapter I handed in…but it turns out she’s only going to give me those after I hand everything in. So basically the meeting was pointless and I could see she was mad, and she had every reason to be so. Come to think about it, a lot of people have good reasons to be mad art me…including me.

I just don’t know what to do with myself… and all I feel like doing is listening to Manu Chao, maybe he can make things a little bit better tonight.

The lyrics on this song go more or less like this:

My life… little light with no candle

My blood from the wound

Don’t make me suffer anymore

My life…stray bullet

Through the highway

Slum puddle

I don’t want you to go

I don’t want you to move away

Every day a little more

My life…little light with no candle

My life…dark water puddle

Soap bubble

My last refuge

My last hope

I don’t want you to move further away each day

My life… little light with no candle

My blood from the wound

My life

Don’t make me suffer no more