Here we go again.
Here's that inescapable feeling of "I really suck". It started, simply enough, with a shitty day on Friday.
Friday was one of those days were I just wish I'd stayed in bed. Nothing went right, from the moment I fell out of bed to the moment I got home that night. So, let's recap, shall we? 6am, my alarm goes off, "Hey old man! Get your fat ass out of bed!" I didn't sleep well that night. I tossed and turned, worrying about god knows what. I pull myself from my nice warm bed and proceed with my morning. Somehow, I managed to have the closet door close on my little finger. It's a fantastic shade of purple today. Suck it up and move on. I survived the rest of getting ready with little to no incidents. On my way into 1PP, I usually grab a coffee and some sort of pastry that strikes my fancy on any given morning. Trying to juggle everything along with my binder, I ended up fumbling, sending my coffee into a death spiral of epic proportions with hot liquid everywhere. I launched into a round of swears that would make sailors blush. I half expected a nun leading a group of young kids to walk by. I make it to my desk, sans coffee. I check my e-mail, check my voice-mail, check everything else that needs my attention early in the morning. There's an e-mail from Chief Brown and from IAB. There's a voice-mail from my brother, my bank, my landlord, and my credit card company. The latter three apparently tried to call my cell but didn't get an answer. This is when I found out my cell phone bought the farm. I spent the entire day getting my ass handed to me by various higher ups for various reasons, some having to do with our current case, others having to do with my behavior one particular day in June. I know which day they mean. If I were anyone else working any other job, I'd have been fired on the spot. Instead, they just slapped a note in my jacket about extenuating circumstances and how I'm "getting my act together". I didn't point out that I've again been put on that path. At least, my trip home was uneventful. I felt better when I got home simply because Andy was there. She gave me a big hug with this beautiful smile.
She actually made the day worth it. Always does. We went out to a nice restaurant for dinner and then a walk in the park. The weather was nice and I didn't want to go home. Unfortunately, I'd already slipped off that slippery slope into being a terrible person to be with. I just felt so blue and I know she picked up on it. She's good at being able to tell when I'm just humoring her. Or it was the fact that I wasn't the least bit interested in playing lazer tag. We talked about her ring, what kind of ring I should get, band vs. DJ... things of that nature. I couldn't get excited about it, though. I know she was. I could see her mind working, thinking about plans.
The conversation about her ring really hit me. It was early on, before I was really gloomy. I was telling her about it, about how perfect it was, and she didn't seem nearly as excited about it as I did. Here I am thinking it fits her personality and style better than if she'd picked it herself, but as she kept talking I started to get the feeling she didn't like it and was just saying she did to make me happy. I think she does a lot of things just to make me happy. I feel like I subject her to things she can't stand for more often than she does to me. I know that's the nature of relationships, but I still feel like I like more of the things that we do than she does. It's hard to articulate without sounding like I'm... whining. The whole talk about her engagement ring started me on a train of thought that led me to wonder if this whole thing was a big mistake. I'm afraid, terrified, of screwing up her life. I'm unstable with more ups and downs than a rollercoaster. I don't want her getting involved in something that's only going to make her miserable. I'm afraid I'm going to have another major depressive episode like I did a few months ago. I'm afraid it's going to strike next June. I'm afraid she's going to wake up and regret her decision, seeing me for the insensitive, angry jerk I really am.
Yesterday, I felt really bad. In the scheme of things, it wasn't that bad, but compared to how good I've been feeling the last few months, I was at a really low point. When I feel as bad as I did yesterday, I have a tendency to pick fights for no reason other than I'm quick to get angry. It happened Friday night, too. She was teasing me about hiding my binder simply to watch me run around looking for it and I basically told her I'd take her head off if she tried. I yelled at her last night because she was trying to get me to tell her what was bothering me. That particular conversation topic is like pulling teeth from a... well, from a bear. But, she just sat there, looking at me with her beautiful eyes that had a deep sadness reflected back and I just couldn't yell anymore. That would have been like hitting a deer simply because it's there. I told her some of what was bothering me. I let her in behind my defenses. I'm still not very good at doing that, but it'd be hard to modify 40+ years of bad behavior in just a few months. I noticed I was a lot more clingy than I normally am. It's because I wanted the reassurance, wanted to know she was there. I was having severe self-worth issues and I wanted the physical contact. I wanted the warmth. I feel like there's an ice block in my chest, one that's just sitting there, giving the rest of my organs freezer burn. The ice melts, cold water seeping into my veins. I can feel it in my fingertips. Friday night, I interrogated her about why she sticks around, what she likes about me... anything just to hear her tell me I don't suck as much as I think I do. Yesterday, after I'd given up, I just wanted to hear her talk. I asked her to tell me something, anything. It started a discussion about baking and making ice cream. That conversation made me feel better than anything else we'd talked about the last two days. She got so excited about making ice cream. Her eyes lit up and she smiled like it was Christmas morning. One of my favorite things is to see her happy over the little pleasures. Last night, I slept well and I slept hard.
Today, we went to see her family. To tell them about the engagement. It went how we both expected it to. She hasn't known me a year, she shouldn't jump into such a huge decision, I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough for reasons I've already gone over. I went in to tonight already feeling bad, but I came away from it with a big chip on my shoulder. If she hadn't dragged me away, I would have made sure it got ugly. I feel guilty. I feel like I shouldn't have asked her to marry me. I feel like they're right. I'm not as depressed as I was yesterday, I'm just... not right. I wanted to be by myself, so I opted out of Tolstoy's walk. Instead, I fell asleep. I need to keep an eye on how much I sleep because if I sleep a lot, I know I'm not doing well. That's where the apathy starts.
She suggested I see a psychologist instead of a psychiatrist, but I can't just switch from Skoda. I have to finish with this medication thing, but at the rate I'm going, he'll probably bring me back to the dose I was at. I can't stop cold turkey because that would be disastrous. Not only do I know what happens from having learned it in school but I've seen it first hand. It always ends badly. So now, I'm stuck in a downward spiral to a potentially drug-free life. I wish Skoda had left my medication alone. I was starting to get used to the idea and now I'm self-destructing because I'm being taken off my medication. My brain chemistry is so fucked up, I don't know which way is up anymore. I know I'm falling, though. And that scares me. Last night, I felt bad and I had no reason for why. I didn't have anything really bothering me, no legitimate reason for why I felt like I did. There was a point where I was on the verge of having a drink. I must have realized we don't have any alcohol in the apartment. I wanted to stay with her instead of going out somewhere.
I feel unsettled, uncomfortable... worthless.