Sunday, June 13, 2010

Nocturne of the Night…

I am sliding back into my nocturnal inclinations thankfully. I have always naturally been a night owl.  I slept a few hours this evening after a wonderful supper and then was up to listen to Coast to Coast AM at 1am (which dismayed me they are talking about sports of all things tonight. Shit!).   I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about my illness and my life.  Currently?  I am just happy to sit still for hours on end – a feat that was almost impossible for me for weeks on Zyprexa.  I was constantly pacing the floor till my legs were sore and I was exhausted.  A friend on Twitter who also has anxiety and does the same thing joked with me tonight that at least we are getting our exercise.  For some reason, that is not funny to me tonight. I don’t want to spend my days nervously pacing the floor as my mind races and my heart thumps in my chest. It is not a very fun or nice way to live when you can’t even sit down for ten minutes.  

Dad is still coming every morning to make sure I am taking care of myself.  Our close family friend telling dad that I looked like I was dying really alarmed him.   I keep wondering how long this will last though.  He’s a busy man with much to do with his busy business.  I appreciate his help immensely, but it is a tad bit demeaning for a man of my age.  That seems to be the story of my mental illness – demeaning.  It has taken away so much of my soul and humanity.  I have watched my manhood slip away over the years to the throes of addiction and schizophrenia.  It has left me this battered, anxious shell of a soul scared of every misaligned inclination of his body.

I was just thinking that my having my medications at night has been a detriment to me.  I would like to take them in the morning so the full effects are with me during the day.  Late afternoons and evenings are horrendous nerve wracking mental illness filled affairs.  I have little control of my medications or healthcare for that matter much like my mother.  My father carefully controls all of this.  He means well, but it can be a tad bit overwhelming.   Maybe I will become nocturnal again so I am asleep during the day when my medications have worn off.  It’s an appealing thought.  I just have to stay up all night tonight to start the process. 

My favorite blog, The Homeless Guy, can pretty much be officially said as dead.  Kevin rarely posts these days and what is posted seems to be reactionary or an afterthought.  I follow him on Facebook, but it’s all alarmist activist type stuff that just doesn’t appeal to me.  You’re not going to change homelessness posting on Facebook to a cadre of friends that is equivalent to preaching to the choir.   I want to know about his life (which is interesting and unorthodox).  I want to know how he lives and manages to eat with no job and no government check. How does he clothe himself?  And how has his laptop lasted all these years when they are so notoriously fragile?  So many questions that I will probably never know.  The man is a mystery that is so intriguing.

I was alarmed at which the way my anonymous commenter's are describing work.   It all sounds so demeaning.  Is work really that bad?  I haven’t worked in about eight years realistically so I can’t quite remember what it’s like.  Lately, I’ve thought of work as a way to better myself.  So many aspects of it are appealing to me such as money and as a social outlet.  I have visions of making lasting friends through the camaraderie of work.  I have visions of being able to just drive down to Fat Albert’s and buy me a cola – something so foreign and strange to me at the moment that I could be living on Mars for that matter.  I don’t have to work.  I am crazy enough that I could stay on disability for years and years living at a poverty level.  If I lost disability, then my father would pay my way although I would be on a tight and tethered leash.  It would be easier for me to stay on the dole, but I wanted something better.  Something to call all my own – an accomplishment of grand proportions for me.   


Berryvox said...

Could you get your father to change the medication time to morning? My issues with sleep have taught me that being nocturnal has a lot of disadvantages. It's difficult to make it to appointments or visit places during their opening hours, etc. Granted, I'm a heavy sleeper and alarms don't always work for me. So, you might not have that problem.

Jen said...

hi..i've been a reader for years now, and i rarely comment. but i just wanted to offer you some of my thoughts, if they mean anything.
you should do what you want to do to be happy and to better yourself, no matter what that is. if it's something to better your life, then go for it. if that means going back to school, then do it. if it means getting a part-time job, then do it. you talk about it enough, proving that your desire to become independent is strong..stronger than you probably even know. that desire is powerful, and you can accomplish what you want with it. you are intelligent, you've held several good jobs before, so it's not like you can't have the life you want. mental illness or not, you are a capable man. but you have too many crutches in your life right now. you just have to decide if you want independence and happiness badly enough to do something about it.
those are just a few of my thoughts...

justLacey said...

I think if you explain to your father about the timing of your meds he will understand. He is there in the morning anyway and it will save him a trip later in the day. As for work, it can be demeaning. It depends on who you work for or with. I work with some wonderful people, but my supervisor is an ogre that enjoys demeaning others. No one likes her and the last year has been difficult in that respect because I am her assistant. If I didn't know it would end soon, I would have quit long ago.

Lena said...

No easy answers to your questions, Andrew. It depends where you work, who you work for, what you do, etc.

One commenter talked about baby steps, and I know when I take baby it makes things easier.

Since you have been out of the workforce for so long, volunteering like Pipe suggested is a good idea. If you can handle that for a good long stretch, then you could think about getting a paid position.

Perhaps you could sit down with someone and make some short term and long term goals.

I know your mental illness causes you such distress and impedes on your life in ways most of us could not imagine or handle.

And I also know that you have many strengths and talents.

Your quest for independence is admirable.

Good luck.

PS. How is your blogger friend from England? I haven't see her comment in a long time. Sorry her name slips my mind.

Mary K said...

Ah work. I think Anon was going quite a bit overboard or they work in a very strict environment.
I mostly love my job when the anxiety isn't making me nuts. Everyone I work with has their on special brand of stark raving crazy. Oh, and we drink as much coke as we want whenever we want.
Often before I open the library in the mornings I gimp through singing at the top of my lungs. Fridays during the summer I bring one of my freaky dolls with me and pose her up at the circ desk staring at people. I talk to all kinds of kids who keep me feeling young and also make me feel old as dirt at the same time. :D
I have the best office in the building because the circulation desk looks out through two stories of glass windows. Part of my job duties allows me to have access to any book anywhere in the world through inter library loan.
All this, and I don't even have a college degree.
So yeah, take it slow, take it easy, but know that when you're ready there is probably a job out there that would be an excellent match for you. I figure if you're going to spend the majority of your day doing something you ought to at least enjoy it and get some sense of satisfaction out of it.