So advanced, in fact, that I can write this blog post from bed.
I usually wouldn’t be in bed this long, but I’d been waiting for a call from my psychologist to answer the question: “Why did I feel so suicidal and currently am not suicidal but extremely depressed after telling you about my past life, especially since the last time I felt this way it was actually happening but right now nothing bad is happening?”
I mean, I wondered if there was more to all of that. His return call came in less than an hour (I didn’t tell the office person that it was an emergency.)
So we talked the past week of suicidal and then deeply depressed, and mainly there were two things:
-
I haven’t ever told all of my life in one go like that. Ever. Not even to previous psych dudes. That was probably why.
-
Also my closest friend (who I could tell this stuff to, in little bits, and not actually lose as a friend) is still out of my life somewhere in Redmond, so life is not perfect, especially in relation to dealing with the past. That doesn’t help.
Also he told me that if things get very bad again, I can always call the clinic’s specific number. Even at night and on weekends and talk to the operator, so someone gets paged and will talk to me.
So I will. My manager at work actually encouraged me to call in the first place, and that there really would be someone all the time, with pagers.
So now I have called and gotten my question answered and then some.
I don’t know what happens from now. I suspect I will get out of bed and shower and go to work after getting something from the Mickey D drive-thru. And tonight is probably another night of “no, I refuse to take the knockout, it’s bad for me, even if I want it so badly” transitioning to “ok my psychiatrist said it was okay and unconscious is a good deal right now.”
Basically, once work stops, life gets hard. But I don’t currently have the endurance to work a 16 hour day.
Anyways I have the clinic number in my iPhone contacts listed as a favorite, which I suppose is the new speed dial.
Ok. Getting outta bed after hitting “publish”.
Spontaneous ∂erivation 
I saw your comfort food post on Tor and just wanted to drop in and say my thoughts are with you. (I remember you from what you’ve posted on Making Light, inter alia.)
I ended up feeling tongue-tied and mentally blocked every time I tried to join the “Dysfunctional Family Day” discussion, so I appreciate your guts in writing what you have, there and elsewhere.
And I wonder… could an extra cause of your current sense of vulnerability, besides all the stuff you’re working on, be that you consciously chose to write about the exclusion by the “Mammoth Book of” series, even though you knew it would open yourself to what’s probably by now (haven’t checked it) a huge swarm of personal attacks for the temerity to talk about being excluded? I’m a veteran of enough flamewars to know that you have to let that stuff roll over you, but it hurts the same, especially when you face it from some underlying base of personal vulnerability.
Hi Clifton! Thank you for your thoughts. I remember your name, too (the Making Light community: we reach into all the corners of the Internetverse).
I’m brave but also lonely. And it’s been a lot of years to sort out some things, but not all things, obviously.
With the “Mammoth Book of TOC Fail” article on Tor.com, while there has been some fail in the comments, there is also a lot of win and quite a few recommendations. My Tor.com bosses also both came out in support of me, and they also accelerated the post in the queue when I asked them to (which I don’t usually do, and probably will not again, but this was important, and they agreed).
As for “did the flamewar I knew would ensue cause me extra vulnerable feelings”, well, I was nearly suicidal a full 48 hours before I even knew about the TOC of FAIL, and have not, in fact, had my mood trajectory (which is slightly upwards) really affected by the comments—either the bad ones or, sadly, the good ones—one way or the other. It’s kind of like drops in the ocean.
At another time, the idiots in that thread would make me feel very sad.
But not at the moment, because I’m preoccupied with what is apparently going to be a prolonged PTSD reaction, or already is. Not one of them can hold a candle to what my father said or did to me—i.e., they don’t trigger me.
An evil part of me also is amused by the fact that if they actually did manage to trigger me, that would require them physically being near me, and it would not be a good day for them if they were.
And I wouldn’t even remember what happened. :)
(Yah, staying the hell away from people right now. In day to day life, people are civil 99.9999% of the time, but better safe than someone being really sorry.)