the world is an imperfect place
Hello again. It has been a long while. I think about writing daily. I want to write. I recently got a new job and in the last thirty days I have worked all but two. I am a part time employee and not used to working every day. I wanted to work 24-25 hours tops. I was trying to keep my recovery as my top priority. Unfortunately, I also do not like to disappoint people so saying NO has been a challenge for me over the years and apparently still a current issue. I want and love to feel needed. I often risk losing myself to please. I am watching this behavior but still unable to change it. I am obviously gaining something stronger from my employment than I am aware. Stronger than my will to take care of myself. I will note here with pride that I was able to work all the shifts I was scheduled which has not been the case in the recent past due to depression and anxiety.
In the past several weeks I was able to research, talk to other Ketamine users and was able to set up with my doctor to get Ketamine nasal spray. I wanted to have on hand if I became symptomatic before my next Ketamine shot. I found that many negative things were occurring during the days leading up to my next treatment. I was unable to motivate myself to go to work. The depression would force me into hiding. I would call out at my job because anxiety and depression were too massive for me to leave my house. This always makes me hate my illness. I spoke to my doctor about nasal Ketamine as a band-aid between shots if I feel myself spiraling downward. That way I can stop the depressive symptoms before losing a job or worse myself. I was able to fill the nasal Ketamine order and used it for the first time when I began to feel the depression filter click back to the on position. I felt it was helpful. I noticed an uplift to my mood. It lasted about four days before I felt the need to use it again. It had to be even more beneficial than I could have thought because I get my Ketamine shot today. I feel I need it but I am not actively swimming in that awful cesspool I often stumble into. I remarked to my husband that my depression may have been a silent struggle for me this go around; more frustrations with myself than a drop in my mood per say. I did in fact go to work each day. I also preformed well at my job. I am realizing that Ketamine is amazing in all delivery methods. It is so beneficial. My mind is healing. Slowly.
My hands have been a massive form of contention. I am in constant pain. I enjoy my job. I want to blog. I make the time to write. The problem is my hands are so bad I want to scream out in pain. My husband keeps telling me to try voice dictation and in all honesty I want to learn. I just feel silly talking to my computer to write. Plus, I am angry because my body keeps betraying me; it is breaking down and my mind is healing. I am still discovering how imperfect our world is.
I am a huge fan of the movie The Breakfast Club. My family would classify my love for the movie obsessive. I quote this movie regularly. How could I not utilize a few lines from my favorite movie into my blog? I feel “…screws fall out all the time. The world is an imperfect place. ” pretty much encompasses my thoughts lately. I have always loved this expression. It is all too accurate.
So, what is on my mind? Why do I have The Breakfast Club dialogue running through my head more frequently than normal? In one word, frustrations. I want the world to run smoothly. No bumps. I want it to be perfect. I want all the screws holding my world together to remain in total working order. It doesn’t work that way. The world is imperfect. Screws rust and break. I can’t count on a perfect recovery. Healing is not linear and change is constant. I want to stop and turn off the power. I want to be complete and mentally sound. I don’t want the world judging all the screws that slip from my pockets when I encounter another imperfection. I just want to pick them up and add them to my list of things to work on when I am stronger. I want to accomplish all, yesterday. I also prefer not to have the people in my life witness my damaged hardware. It doesn’t work that way. I am no better than the next person with faulty tools. The world is an imperfect place. And screws will fall out. I used to fall apart and crumble as each one hit the floor. Ketamine allows me to pick up new screws, nails, or even putty when needed. I can get up and patch up the cracks. The problem is all of these actions are taking place in a glass house. People are watching. Judging. I am still hiding my truths from many close to me. I worry a tiny bit to be honest. I share my writings in an open forum now. I am trying to adjust to that. I know I am a master at using masking tape to cover up my flaws. I mask my emotions. I have years of practice. I most certainly have felt fake; an impostor. I have never been proud of hiding my illness. I just know that in the past when people know about my treatment resistant depression, anxiety and daily desires to die something in their eyes shift. They no longer see me as a capable intelligent person. They pity me. They see my raw weaknesses. That is unacceptable. I want to continue to be viewed positively and not seen through my illness. An illness most don’t understand or want to. I am now viewed as the girl that is just messed up in the head. I am every stereotype they every read or heard about. I am not Susan. Silence. Looks. Talks behind my back. Shattered. I am dropping screws all over my blog.
I write about healing and Ketamine. I am healing. I use Ketamine. I don’t want that to make people feel differently about me. It does. The world is imperfect. Humans are not perfect. I realize that. I strive to be super human so this is an ongoing battle for me. I mentioned at the beginning of my musings that frustration was the word of the day. People are looking into my house. They are witnessing me picking up my messes. I am uncomfortable. I won’t pull the blinds because my message is too important. Ketamine is hope. Please understand that I falter. I have baggage I am sorting through before recycling and purchasing new luggage. Ketamine allows me to open up but I still have concrete walls to climb to do so. Ketamine assists me. I still have to do all the work. I have to do decades of work. Do not judge my negative, bad days as a reflection of Ketamine. It is totally all my shit. I have to walk through it and wash it off. I will say that Ketamine allows me to stand up and walk. The washing takes time. It all takes time. I have been using Ketamine for over two years but suffered over 3 plus decades before discovering my life preserver. I advocate Ketamine for Treatment Resistant Depression. I have a dictionary full of reasons. Ketamine lifts me up off the floor. I still have to decide to walk. We all do. I understand that screws fall out all the time. The world is an imperfect place. I do. John Hughes told me so back in the 80’s. I am trying with every breath to accept that. I suppose we all are.
