It Happened AGAIN! Work NIGHTMARE!

Wow, I JUST posted my resume online last night. I didn't use my name, created a new mailbox, no address, didn't put my company name, and yet...

When I was about to leave for lunch, my boss summoned me into his wife's office (he doesn't have one - he likes to be in the "trenches" with us). I knew what he was going to say...I'd been through this before...My Nightmare Work Experience back in April 2006.

He asked me if I liked it there, I said sure. He asked me what was wrong because my resume was posted online. I'd already BEEN through this before with another boss, so I wasn't so shocked and intimidated. I suppose each time I could have been fired, but for some reason, I never am. He started telling me, like my other boss, what a great job I was doing, blah blah. I laid it all on the line, all of my concerns, and how this was strictly monetary, nothing personal. I would consider him the best salesman (and the most wealthy) I've ever known, and he did his best, but I have to commend him for being honest. He really was. To get me to stay, he gave me a 5% raise! After putting my resume online! But of course, I had to take my resume off of monster (and dice and careerbuilder, but of course, he didn't know about those). That's the damned thing about being a recruiter. You can't hide putting your resume on the internet. Now, because I work for a "draw", the 5% raise is the percentage of the "cut" I get from the fee we receive from the client that they pay us when we make a placement. He said whether I'm in the "red" or the "black", he was going to automatically add it to my paycheck each time I made a deal. He said his plans had been that I would mentor another Recruiter who wasn't doing so well, and to take over an account whose company have revenues that are $1 billion. That's not such a big deal - most of our companies are that big. We talked for about 30 minutes, I was BRUTALLY honest with him, and then I went home for lunch, which I never do because it is so far. I had to take my resume offline, you see, and I thought it was inappropriate to do it at work. As SOON as I got back to my desk, he actually held up a highlighted copy of a printed-out version of my resume and asked if I had taken it down yet. Talk about being paranoid! Why in the world is he wanting me to stay so badly? Why didn't he just let me go? Why did he go on and on about the great job I do, and how many people he would say "yes, this isn't for you, you should probably move on", but not to me, I was really good at this? I understand he pays my draw, and if he didn't see that I was going to make the company (namely, HIM) a lot of money, he would have no qualms with letting me go. In his eyes, he would just be giving me money for free, does that make sense? If I'm not making any deals, I'm not worth anything to him - I'm not making him any money. He did a lot of "pumping up", and I'm not sure why. I feel better about the future of OUR office after our talk, it simply attrition he's worried about right now? I will admit, I bust my ASS for that job, minus the "mental health" days I take off now and again, and when I had the flu. But when I'm there, I work hard all day, and I know what I'm doing. Working hard all day is called A-D-D-E-R-A-L-L.:-) He's amazed by my focus. And rightly so. :-) I'm worried about the repercussions and fall-out of this, though...I hope he understood what I was trying to say.

Mark is in Chicago this week, and this is the first night I'm alone. My allergies, or whatever the frig they are, were horrible today, so I just took a double dose of liquid Nyquil, and almost threw it back up in the sink. I never thought I had allergies, but if I do, I hope they're gone by tomorrow.

We'll see how my first night without Mark in YEARS goes...

Blog Lurking

I've been *lurking* on all of my favorite blogs for some time now, and I've come to the realization that I think too much in the present. Yes, I created my blog to record the present so I could review and see analyze in the future any bipolar symptoms and stop them before they became out of out hand. But...I don't give any thought to goals as to what I WANT in the future. Such as marriage. Children. Paying off bills. My job. My psychiatric health and medication. Mark's new traveling schedule.

Marriage...we should have already BEEN married. I want that so much. But what have I done to plan it? Nothing. Why is that?

Children. I've reached the time where it's now or never, yet I'm not planning a family. Why is that?

Paying off bills. Mark is slowly paying some down, but we're taking on big commitments as well such as the Mercedes and the BMW too.

My job. I just don't see a future there and my income increasing. However - last night I started applying for new jobs as a Corporate Recruiter, so I AM taking my future in my own hands.

My psychiatric health and medication. My doctor said once I'm "stable" I should start "weaning" myself off of some of my medications. I need to make an appointment and begin the process. I haven't done that yet.

Mark's new traveling schedule. He starts that today - he won't be home after work, and won't be home until late Thursday night. I don't want him to be gone at ALL, so to deal with it, I plan on working until at least 7:00p, getting home by at least 8:00p, and having so little time to deal with it before bed that I barely notice it.

See what I mean? I live in the present, not the future. I need to sit down, make a list of what I want out of life while I have this small window of being "healthy", and map out what I want.

God knows it doesn't come often enough.

I'll start posting again on everyone's blogs, but for now...I just don't feel that I have anything meaningful to add....what do *I* know? I can empathize, most definitely, I just don't know that I'm of any help to anyone...

Just Babbling...

I've spent part of the day applying for new jobs - Corporate Recruiter positions instead of agency positions. I'm sick of my job depending on the success of the Account Managers, thus my income is going nowhere right now. I'm pretty mad at my boss because of it. Also - he upset one of the Account Managers in our office and she quit last Friday - she'd been there about 6 years. There's one more person who has been there for about 6 years (her brother), and the rest of us have been there less than 2 years. The other 2 Account Managers who are ROCKING and making all of the money went to the new office, and those Recruiters are making a lot of money. Sucks for me, huh? My boss's accounts suck. He tries to blame it on the recruiter's resumes, but I'm not biting. I don't see things improving as much as I want them to improve quickly enough, so...I'm done with agencies. I just need a stable job with a good salary and a career path. I DO like the flexibility an agency has, but I just can't stand the uncertainty of income. I work almost 50 hours a week, and for what? For nothing, and I KNOW I'm damned good at what I do.

Mark is leaving tomorrow after work to go out of town until he gets back late Thursday night. This will be a test to see how I handle "being on my own". I intend on working a lot of hours to cope. Maybe I won't even notice that much that he's gone because I'll just work, come home and take my nighttime meds and watch American Idol, and go to bed. My days go by SO FAST when they're like that. Plus, I always feel like Mark and my boss are pulling me in different directions. My boss wants me at work with him, and Mark wants me at home with him. I'm so torn, but of course Mark and home come first - I just have to tear myself away from work and my boss, and then I feel guilty for not staying as long or as late as he wants me to during the week. I'm sure he'll be happy this week when I stay late.

I've actually taken a shower this weekend! And I'm about to go take another and go to the grocery store and do laundry!

I say "about"...I never can believe it until I do it. :-)

I'm kind of scared about Mark not being here...


Friday is "weigh day" and I now weigh 124. That's 1/2 pound less than last week. At least I'm going DOWN and not UP. 1/2 pound to go until I lose the weight I gained when I was sick!


As a Recruiter, this is the first time I've encountered this, but it seems to be no big deal, except in my mind.

A candidate of mine is interviewing for this GREAT job, and he has leukimia. He wanted us to tell the company right up front that he had leukimia because the drug used to control it was $5k/month, and he was worried about their insurance. The Account Manager told them, and their reaction was "does it affect his productivity?", and she told them it didn't, and their reaction was to the affect of not understanding why it was even an issue. To be honest, until I had this candidate, I didn't even KNOW leukimia was cancer! Yes, he's younger...I'd say 26 or so - out of college for 4 or 5 years. There's no way that anyone could NOT like him. He's the nicest guy you'd ever talk to - so personable, and the company loves him after meeting him, for a position they've been trying to find the right person for the past 6 months, AT LEAST! But I wonder, and of course I can't ask him...what is his life expectancy? I can't exactly ask my candidate that. And I genuinely *like* him - he's planning on coming to the office and taking me to lunch so we can meet (platonically!). It makes me wonder...if I were younger and met him and were dating him, would I break up with him knowing (if it is true), that he was going to die young? If I had the foresight...yes, I probably would. I would know that I couldn't handle the pain later on, but then again, how can any of us see our future?
I say that, but I used to trick myself the same way with my dog, and look what happened...

I have a "penpal" that I used to exchange emails with about every 2-6 months, but lately, it's been more intense. He's bipolar, which is how our paths crossed, was suicidal, and a heavy drinker. His wife left, and now that he's faced with having to deal with the reality of sobering up and getting well, I've tried to be there for him us much as possible, which is why I haven't been posting as much as I normally do.

You never know how close someone is to committing suicide until they actually DO it, you know? That was always my greatest fear with him. Someone *saying* they are suicidal...well, people tend to glaze over a person saying that. But once someone tries to commit suicide, or God forbid, succeeds, THEN everyone reflects on the "flags" they should have seen. Because I've been suicidal, and because he is, we bonded in that aspect. Our depression has been to an extreme that only a few can understand. Being depressed is one thing...losing all hope and wanting to end your life more than anything in the world for months at a time is a whole different ballgame. You don't just "get over it". And you never forget. It's the ONLY reason I continue to take my medication. Well...except Adderall. And the anti-anxiety medications? But the mood alterers...I just wouldn't need them, nor do I want them.

I've been working SO MANY HOURS, and Mark started his new job this week. He'll be traveling to Chicago all next week, leaving me alone at home. I plan on working LOTS of hours to cope, instead of being at home by myself and thinking about it.

I couldn't live with ME

Somehow, some way, Mark has pretty much taken on the role as a kind of "care-giver". I don't mean to the extent that he gives me my medication, etc. I mean, he takes care of the bills, does the dishes, takes the clothes to the cleaners (I do the laundry, at least), and is there for me listening (even though he doesn't understand) and picking up the "slack" when I have bipolar symptoms. He remembers my car registration and takes care of it, where I always toss the letter somewhere in a pile and forget about it.

Could I do that for someone else? It's all I can do take care of what I DO right now. Don't get me wrong - I could live by myself and do everything on my own. I know that. And I'd be just fine. I have no worries about that at all. But...I wouldn't want to be the one living with me, either.

Mark doesn't complain about a matter of fact, I think he likes the role sometimes. It's how he shows me he loves me, and it doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. But to be there when I was suicidal for months, not knowing if I was going to end my life? When I was in the psych ward? Putting up with a slob? What does HE get out of the relationship? I honestly don't know. The only thing I can think of is...I do have a good heart. I'm very warm, caring and empathetic. I'm honest without hurting anyone. When I'm in a good mood, I'm a lot of fun (isn't every bipolar?) :-) Is personality enough to put up with all of my shit? Because when I'm depressed, which is a lot of the time, I'm a real downer. I don't even bathe. He bathes every morning!

That's what I mean - someone who doesn't bathe, gets suicidal, doesn't take care of their responsibilities or even picks up after themselves...I wouldn't want to live with me. Yet he does. And rarely complains. And says he never wants to live without me and I'm the "love of his life".

Why? I always think...does he have low self esteem? Why would he want ME? Why would anyone? Will he wake up one day and be sick of it all?

Weigh Day

Friday's Weight: 124.5

I lost weight since last week! Because I was hormonal and because I ate and ate when I was sick (I kept taking psych weight gainers), I got up to 130.0. In a week, I lost 5.5 pounds, and am back down to 124.5! Now I just need to lose 1.0 pound to get where I WAS, and then start losing again. It's weird when you take for granted what you weight, like I did at 123.5, and then you wish you were back at you weighed just a week earlier. I guess I'm already taking 124.5 for granted.

Our Valentine's Day was nice - Mark sent two dozen roses to work with an "I Love You" balloon and mushy card, and I went to the Cheesecake Factory and bought him his favorite cheesecake - an original with cherries and whipped cream on top. He doesn't realize how tempting having that cheesecake in the house is to me. Part of the present was that the cheesecake was ALL HIS, and I wouldn't eat any. I know that sounds extreme, but the last two cheesecakes I bought him from the Cheesecake Factory, he had one or two slices, and I ate the rest. I keep yelling at him to eat his damned cheesecake, but he wants to savor it because he loves it and it was a special gift, and it's torturing me. It's a small cheesecake, but when he has 1 slice per night, and it feeds 4-6 people, that means it will last at least 6 days, and I don't know that I can last that long. Damned cheesecake.

The whole thing that went down in the news about prisoner abuse by the Marines and now they're at the Camp Pendleton brig in CA has me thinking about my ex-b again. HE was in the Camp Pendleton brig, too. Only...I read what the Camp Pendleton brig was like, and he LIED to me about it. He said they sat around and played cards all day, and I read what a typical day was like, and that's not right at all. Although he was a "detainee" and not a "prisoner", and he would have been in minimum security, it's still a serious military prison. What a loser I chose, huh? I really didn't know. Why do I care? It's like...everything about that relationship I ever believed was a total lie. I shouldn't care, right? But it made me really mad. It made me think...was he even in the brig because he went AWOL when he was a Marine, or was it something else? Did he lie about that too, because he lied about everything else, I've now found? That relationship was so emotionally traumatizing. I HATE him, I really do. I want nothing but the worst for him. I want him to get divorced because he's an asshole, get nowhere in his job, have people see him for who he really his - a monster. I want to see him go on trial for spousal abuse. I worry that he will kill his wife and I'll be called to testify, seriously. So why do I care that he was a pathological liar to me? I'm so confused about it all. However...I do know that Mark can't even watch "Cheaters" because it reminds him of his ex-wife, so maybe I'm not so weird after all.

I'd better start getting ready for work!

Happy Blog Anniversary!

I've been keeping my blog for 2 years now - I can hardly believe how much my life has changed. Keeping a blog and recording events, thoughts and feelings has really helped me reflect and analyze my moods for my disorder, and life in general. The past 2 days have been pretty good, comparitively speaking from last week.

Here are my entries from the past two years at the same time (see how far I've come!). I'm SO GLAD it's not last year at this time. I was starting a deep depression over my dog. Interesting how both entries are about my now-deceased dog. He was such a big part of my life, and I still miss him tremendously....


Cody :(

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

I really don't feel like writing tonight. Cody died last night. We got a call around 8:00 or 8:30 from the doctor at the emergency clinic, and I answered the phone. He said "Cody crashed", and I said crashed, what do you mean? And I don't remember the words he used, but he said something like Cody retired. I didn't know what to say, so I handed the phone to Mark, and the doctor told Mark what happened. Apparently Cody's heart was beating very very fast, he was under stress or something, and they were concerned about it when we took him to the doctor Sunday night, and all day Monday, and wouldn't let us take him home Monday night because of his heart. Apparently, once he got back to the emergency vet and they hooked him up, his heart stopped and before they could help him, it was too late. I can't even explain how I feel about all of this. It's on my mind all of the time. Being in this house is just a reminder of Cody. Right after we found out, I went around the house and gathered up everything of Cody's because just looking at it made me feel worse. Mark picked up the brown teddy bear that he gave Cody when he got sick once, and he just lost it. I've never heard him cry like that. I feel so empty, it seems so unfair, I miss Cody so much. There's such a loneliness around the house without Cody. All day all I could think about was Cody. Mark told the emergency vet to take care of Cody's body. That makes me sick just thinking about that. His body. Cody's body. That beautiful dog we loved - we love - so much. Little routines make me cry - like walking in the door after work, or getting up in the morning, without Cody wanting into the bathroom. Sometimes I thought he was a bother, but I didn't know his time with us was about to end. How can we all know that? I could have done so many things for him - walked him more, loved him more, maybe given him different dog food? Maybe seen why he was outside for so long sooner? Gone to visit him while he was at the vet and maybe his heart rate would have gone down? It's just really hard, and I don't know how long it will take before I'm okay again, before Cody is not on my mind all of the time. I can't imagine feeling happy again. It happened so fast - we had Cody, and 24 hours later, he died. What happened? What went wrong? What could we have done?

When will I stop thinking about Cody all of the time, and when will I stop being sad?

From 2 years ago:

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Okay my dear Blog, I'm back!

I think I found a solution to my aggressive police dog. For $700, a good trainer will take him into a kennel, and only love and treats, get him away from us and our behavior with him, and train him while we read and study a video on how to continue the new behavior. Also, I read about drug therapy for dogs. Kind of like anti-depressants. See, what happened was I watched, on Court TV (I could watch that day and night - I know, very dorky) the episode where the two huge dogs killed that woman, and I thought of Cody and should we put him down before he really injures someone. I told Mark that, and he said "Great, put MY dog down!" and it upset him. We don't have the $700 right now (our house payment is $2500/month), but this is the plan I want to work on, I think. We tried another kennel, but like I said before, I think they were mean to him. And we didn't learn how to change our behavior while he was gone. We got our homework very quickly when we got Cody back.

I'm trying SO HARD to eat well and lose weight. If I'm not hungry, I don't eat. When I do eat, I make better choices, so we'll see. The bipolar medications I've taken over the years have blown me up to a less than desirable weight (not overly obese - don't think that, but more than I care to weigh), and now I have a problem. Since I was sitting on my butt for over a year going to school online, then looking for a job, I gained 15 pounds. Now my previous work clothes don't fit, and I don't have a lot of work clothes to wear now. I HAVE to lose the weight because I can't just go out and buy more clothes right now. We were so poor last summer that our house went into foreclosure, but I worked out a deal with our mortgage company, thank God. That's when I quit school and started looking for a job. I think it's been better for me. Getting up and making myself productive to society once again feels wonderful. I just hope I can get better at my job and don't lose it! If so, I'll just find another one.

That's it for now, my second entry of the day. I just told Mark about my blog since he's sitting here, but I don't want him to read it. And he'll try to, I just know it. How can I bare my soul that way? Oh well, I least I don't have to worry about sneaking around to write in it now. (sigh)

Thanks for listening, my dear, sweet Web Log.

I think it's awesome that I've lost 50 pounds since my blog entry 2 years ago! And I didn't realize it was only 2 years ago that we were having such severe money problems.

Keeping a blog helps me to NOT FORGET how things FEEL, and to not take things for granted. I don't take being able to pay the mortgage for granted, losing weight for granted, having Cody in my life for granted, Mark and I getting along for granted, my mental health (obviously, the reason I started the blog) for granted. It also helps me "catch" a depression, severe anxiety, etc. before it gets out of hand and gets my butt to the doctor sooner than I otherwise would. It forces me to analyze my moods when I put them in my blog, and I discover a lot about myself by doing that.

Today is Valentine's Day! I thought I'd be depressed because of the death of Cody's Anniversary, but I'm not - at least not at this very second. I know that Mark sent flowers to work to be delivered today because I helped him pick them out (haha). I gave him a "pre-Valentine's Day card" yesterday that was kind of bratty. It said "I'd like diamonds with my flowers, please". He laughed and said I was awful. But hey, if I get diamonds out of it, it would work into my master plan! (just kidding)

Happy Valentine's Day, if anyone has actually read this far! :-)

Pretty good day

Maybe I really did have the flu or something. Mark is sick now, and a girl from work was out yesterday. I felt pretty good, could concentrate well, worked through lunch, stayed until almost 8:00p, and had no panic attacks or anxiety with need for Klonipin or Geoden.

Thanks for the kind comments - they mean the WORLD to me. Just when you think you're alone and without any support...someone understands what you're going through and says the kindest thing. Thanks so much.

Not having anxiety is like HEAVEN. When you've had it day after day for so long, just going one day without it is so relieving. You see you really can lead your life without pain - maybe, just maybe...if it lasts. Hopefully I'll stay anxiety free (I'm not naive enough to think it will be 100%) enough to feel "normal".

You would think after missing THREE DAYS of work that my boss would give me some kind of "cold shoulder" yesterday, especially being the workaholic he is. Nope. Of course he didn't ask me how I was feeling (are you insane???) :-), but did talk about my future there when everyone else had gone home. He said he knew I didn't need the money because of Mark (that's not ALWAYS true), but I could take 5% of my deals anytime I wanted until I'm out of the "red". I basically pay my own salary, so I'm still trying to catch up to pay what I've made. Then he said he'd like to make me an Account Manager eventually, and he'd start transitioning accounts to me slowly. That's a BIG thing for him to say. He's very protective of his accounts.

I wonder why I would be OUT 3 days and then he would say that. Maybe he's thinks I'm not motivated since I was out so many days, and is trying to do that now. It has nothing to do with motivation, although I get sick to death of work. But I was S-I-C-K, whether is was psychological or physical, which really, it doesn't matter. They are both physicial, and either way, I couldn't have gone to work.

I realized, whether I had the flu or not, that I'm bipolar, and if that means being out 3 days of work, then that's what it's come down to now. I can't help that anymore than I could if I DID have the flu severely (if I didn't). I felt so bad that it didn't matter if I had a job or not - I simply could not go in. I need to face the facts and not be so hard on myself when I can't perform like "everyone else". I take great pride in being able to work like a "normal" person, and even outwork and over-perform other people who aren't bipolar. I simply need to stop expecting that out of myself. It isn't realistic. I need to be satisfied with being "okay", like I always tell myself. Being "okay" is so much more than just "being okay" sounds. It's something that's attainable and a goal I should strive for daily. Being great is, well...stellar.

"Being okay" is something I should protect and guard closely, because if I'm not careful, I could wind up in the hospital again. I see in my blog where I was LONGING to go to the psych ward now.

Still Sick?

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I am consumed with anxiety. It physically hurts. I'm an emotional rollercoaster. Mark is complaining I got him sick, but I don't know that I am physically, not psychologically, sick. I suppose I could have some sort of stomach virus that makes me feel this way. He said he had a sore throat, though. It's like having acid in your stomach - simmering and burning, making the rest of your body jittery and your head not so clear - bordering on crazy.

Mark and I were leaving the garage, and I saw the little bed that Cody used to sleep in on the balcony, and started crying. It will be a year on Tuesday that he died. A year tomorrow that we took him to the hospital when he was so sick, but I just didn't know HOW sick he was, how I didn't get to him in time, if I had only known he was sick, I would have gotten him to the doctor so much all came flooding back. This has been a HUGE milestone for me all year. I kept thinking "February 13...February 13..." all year long. Today is February 11, tomorrow is February 12, the anniversary of his last illness, and then a year. For those who don't know, Cody was a DOG, not a child, but he WAS my child, my only child. What could I have done? Should he still be here with me? I can't believe I am still crying like this a year later.

I don't know if I have the flu or if I'm losing it psychologically. I feel like staying in bed and just have someone take care of me and not worry about a single thing. Anything at all is just TOO MUCH. Nothing takes my mind off of my anxiety.
It's a huge lump in my throat to swallow. I even worry I swallow too much. I know I have too much drainage, and I worry that the drainage is what is causing the anxiety.

Maybe I'll stop the Abilify tomorrow. Or should I increase it? Hell I don't know.

I'd almost prefer to go to the psych ward and have someone figure all of this out for me while I just blissfully slept....

Catch Up/Ketchup

Friday morning weight: 130.0 (hormonal)

It's early Saturday morning (2:30a), and I can't sleep. I have no idea if I am just getting over the flu, if I had a deep depression, one large ongoing panic attack, or what. I called in sick to work Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The thing is...I didn't just sit around the house and watch television. I stayed in bed and slept and didn't feel good, had massive headaches, and took Seroquel and Geoden hoping to calm the sickness in my stomach. I *really was* (and am) sick, but I don't know if it was emotional or physical. This has never happened to me before....I've always known if it's one or the other, especially when it's lasted this long. Even Mark commented he didn't know if I was depressed, and I didn't even ask him if he thought I was.

I have no idea how to face work on Monday. I'm so behind, and there are several people who were counting on me. I just want to quit.

Mark got the job he wanted at the salary he wanted, and I'm really happy for him. He worked so hard and waited so long in a job that he was miserable just to find something that he hoped would come around. But...he still makes me feel like shit. Right now, he says that the song by Nick Lachey "What's Left of Me" won't stop playing in his head and is how he feels. He hates it because it won't stop going through his head. What the hell? I tell him to stop giving me a guilt trip, but he acts like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. How long am I going to feel worthless and like I don't deserve the same air he breathes? I appreciate SO MUCH all that he does for me. He does all of these nice, wonderful things for me, but it takes just one small comment to reduce me to nothing.

Up Early

I'm up at 3:30a, and feel so sick. The thing about having an anxiety disorder is sometimes you don't know if you're actually sick with some sort of stomach virus that's making your tummy all anxious and queasy and your head a little dizzy, or if it's anxiety. I'm all out of klonipin, but just since yesterday. I got REALLY sick at work yesterday, but I just had 2 protein bars for breakfast, 3 Trim Spas, 2 Phentermine and 3 Benedryl at lunch, and then in the afternoon I felt really sick. I guess I should have expected it, huh? Now this morning, even after my Seroquel and Geoden and everything else last night, I still feel major anxiety or illness, but I can't or don't want to miss work.

I told Mark to stop giving me guilt trips (but didn't say exactly over what) and to stop manipulating me, and he has, so far. I told him that he knew that was the easiest way to get me to do something - through guilt - and he said that was probably true, and hasn't mentioned anything about my ex-b or the email since then.

BUT. It's like the pink elephant...if you try not to THINK about a pink elephant, that's all you think about, right? So...I've tried not to think about my ex-b, and the weirdest things keep popping up, right in front of Mark and I that make me so uncomfortable. Like...we were just sitting there watching television, and the next movie was "Jarhead", and they showed the Marine going to Camp Pendleton. Well, ex-b was a Marine at Camp Pendleton. What are the chances? We were watching a mystery show, and it ended up being about an email love affair...again, what are the chances? (Not that I was having an email love affair!!!) But he didn't say anything either time, although there was a bit of uncomfortableness for a few seconds. I just acted as if nothing happened, and changed the subject. What am I going to do? We'll move on from this eventually, to where it's a distant memory, I'm sure.

Sometimes you just "click" with a candidate you're working with and helping get a job - and I really enjoy talking to this guy who's been out of college for about 4 years. He's so nice, has a great future, and I found out he has leukimia. He wanted the company he has sent his resume to know that right up front, so I had to discuss it with him. I didn't know how to say "IT". I called it his "health condition". To be honest, from the beginning, I didn't even know it was cancer. I argued with the Account Manager about whether or not we should tell the company in the beginning. My view was that we shouldn't, because...why should give them the chance to discriminate against him when there was no reason to do so? I was thinking of my own bipolar disorder, you see. She said he asked us to tell, and if the company found out we knew and didn't disclose when he asked us to, they would be highly upset.

I seem to be inserting my own bipolar disorder into situations at work lately, more than just this one.

A contractor in New York was stumbling at work and was asked to go to the nurse's office. He refused, but they made him go anyway, and wouldn't let him drive. He was highly offended by this, and refused to return back to work, even though the company wanted to hire him, even after all of this. The big question everyone had was "had he been drinking?", and we were supposed to find out. I started putting this scenario together in my head where he may have taken too much medication such as Seroquel the night before, like I've done, and was stumbling around because of that, which I've also done. If forced head on to say what was wrong with me, what would I say? Would I disclose? It depended on if it stayed with the nurse or not. I may decide not to go back to work too, if not. But then again, he could have been drunk!

Maybe my fierce "don't tell" policy about my illness isn't always the best way to go. If the guy with cancer isn't afraid to tell, then why shouldn't I? The thing is...people UNDERSTAND if you have cancer. If you have a mental disorder? That's completely different. They know what to expect if you have cancer. If you're bipolar? They don't know. They'll judge everything you say and do against your disease. At least, that's how I view it. I used to see Bipolar Girl that way, but now I don't see her AS MUCH like that. It would be so much EASIER to just tell my boss I am bipolar. Then...on days when I just can't get out of bed because of medication reasons or whatever, I could just call in and tell the truth. For my ADHD, I could tell him I'm going to the doctor to get my Adderall prescription. But I can't. I make up lies. It's so much harder NOT to tell, but it seems like the consequences of telling are too great. I don't want to be perceived as mentally unstable or incapable of performing my job (even though I AM mentally unstable) :-).

Man, it's only 4:00am. What am I going to do until 5:30?

One Big Failure

Friday morning's weight: 123.5

Well, I feel like shit again. Mark and I were having a perfectly good morning, and somehow we got on the topic of his new medicine: Cymbalta. I asked him if he was feeling better yet, he said not really, and then I got curious..."Did you tell your doctor about the situation?".

He said "No, it's humiliating! Why would I tell my doctor about my girlfriend and another man?" Attention: I did NOT CHEAT! It was a stupid email to an ex-b!

Then, he was telling me about his anxiety, and showed me his knuckles where he had punched a stone wall at work. There were little red marks on them. Are you friggin' kidding me? The guilt I feel is unfathomable. I can't even deal with it.

One of the side effects of Cymbalta is "decreased appetite", and I told him he certainly had that. He said "yeah, but not because of that". How long is he going to torture me? It was an EMAIL! I didn't profess love, or anything! Maybe one day I'll dig up the courage to check my "sent" box and post it on my website. Right now, I can't bear to see what I wrote.

Anyways...there was an uncomfortable silence in the car, and then my song came on my home-made CD "Why Georgia" by John Mayer (who else?) and he said "of COURSE you had to sneak this onto your CD, I knew it!" jokingly, after I had promised him there was no John Mayer on my CD before I popped it into the CD player. You have to's been nonstop John Mayer since November...he's been barraged, while I can't get enough. He knows every word to most songs unwillingly. The CD has a lot of good songs though...I just let him keep it.

"Why Georgia" made me feel better...the words and melody were soothing. And him making the joke cut through the tenseness. Before that, I had been joking with him, singing, doing stupid dances in the car (while sitting, of course) and making him laugh. I had recorded some really ridiculous songs like..."I like Big Butts".

After everything I ate last week, and I ate out - fast food - for dinner just about every night last week, I was astonished that I didn't gain a single half a pound. I did that just for Mark because he wasn't eating, and he's lost over 10 pounds now. I would get home from work, grab him, and go somewhere he likes and bring it home. I told Mark about my weight, and he couldn't believe it either, but then he had to add "just think of all the weight you could have LOST!". Why does he have to say things like that? I know he didn't mean it the way it sounded and the way I typed it, but it doesn't matter, that's how I took it. BUT...knowing I didn't gain any weight last week lets me know I don't have to freak out and have half of a protein bar all day today.

I don't feel like I'm doing very well at work. I feel like a big failure. Everyone loves my new BMW, but I know that they know it's not because of how much money *I* make, it's Mark. I don't know...maybe I'll never be really successful there and should move on. Mark said I need to stop starting and stopping and stay somewhere long enough as a Recruiter to build up contractors, etc., and while I know he's right, how do I even know I have talent? My boss thinks I do, but how does HE know? Bipolar Girl got a deal last Friday, and while I'm happy for her, it makes me think...will I ever get another deal again? What if I don't? What if I just suck THAT BAD? What if I'm doing things all wrong now? And I don't know how I was doing them before?

*sigh* I guess I just feel like one big, fat failure. Let's hope I make my one goal for each weekend: take a shower.

I'm a failure in my relationship, I'm a failure at work, I can't even clean my own house - someone else has to do it...I'm just a failure at everything. Can I do ANYTHING RIGHT? I'm really wondering.

I feel so damned guilty and like such a loser that I don't know what to do. Not necessarily DEPRESSED, but more as if this is situational. Enough to make me want to gobble down a bunch of Seroquel and sleep it all away, except...the hangover of that is immense hunger, which is enough to keep me away.

Maybe I wish I didn't exist. Except - I like to drive my new car. That's my only pleasure in life right now. What a materialistic *itch I am. Do I have no soul? What have I done to this person I love so much?

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