A man's descent into madness
Today was my first day back to work since the snowstorm. It felt great sitting in my surprisingly comfortable desk chair in the cubicle that I refer to as the "dungeon." It felt like being at home sitting in the interview room with the other members of my team while listening to psych patients cussing each other out on the other side of the wall. One patient was convinced she was a doctor, and another patient was convinced the DEA was after her. Both patients were trying to one up another. It was pretty hilarious. Due to the heavy load of admissions, we were in team meeting until almost lunchtime.
I forgot to bring the Stirner book with me so I was forced to find something else to read during lunch. I read the first two chapters of Notes from Underground, honestly one of the most profound books that I have ever read. I wish I were so "acutely conscious" of my actions. Since reading the book two years ago, the word "spite" has entered my daily vocabulary.
I spent the afternoon working on placement for one of the patient who thought the government was after her. After sending records to every drug rehab in the area, I worked on an intake and in which extremely challenging, the patient even told me herself that she was diagnosed with several cluster b personality disorders.
After work, I walked 3 miles on the trail and attempted to meditate on the events of past few days. I checked my phone twice to see if I had a message from G, and nothing. One of the biggest obstacles I have to get used to is being comfortable with a quieter phone. I have to stop checking it to see messages that just arent there. I actually sat my phone down on my desk for part of the day while I was working on the floor.
This is an addiction that has destroyed me as much mentally as alcohol did physically. Just like alcohol, I kept telling myself that "this times things would change." I messed up, after two years of doing well, I decided to take a chance to make a new "online friend." And just go ahead and guess what happened, the same thing happened, woke up and saw I was unfriended. Yeah, I didn't exactly feel like roses and sunshine due to the stuff with G, but I was not even mad.
How can I be mad if I know what will happen well beforehand? It is fact that "everybody leaves." It is some sort of eternal truth, it is nature. It is not like I get mad when a cat eats a bird, the Sun rising in the East, and birds fly south for the summer. They are all facts about reality that just cannot be changed and that is something that I am trying to accept. This truth is something that I have known deep down for a few years, but I rebel against it, and everytime I get burnt. Me being me I would do the same thing down the road to the next person that wants to be friends, and when the inevitable fact of life happens, I will yet again stand there and pretend to be surprised. People suck, but I do not have any hard feelings for that many individual people, maybe G to an extent, but my worldview helps with me not being angry at an individual.
I need to be comfortable with not having people around. I need to continue to focusing my anger into my writing, and in a few months, start working on the farm some more. Maybe I can focus on learning my foreign language, or picking the banjo back up? Regardless of what I have to do, I have to stop relying on "friends." I wish my desire for human interaction whether in person or via phone could dissipate. Just like quitting drinking, this will take time. It won't be the end of the world if I mess up, but if nothing changes, another G will show up in the future, and I would confide in, care for, love, and eventually get thrown out to the curb. I know that most times it isn't personal against me, just like personal when I get rained on. I know I can do this, but on the brightside, some of the absolute best stories that have yet to be written down come from these "friends." Maybe that can be my next topic.
The ENT doctor rescheduled me for Friday, maybe I can get my vertigo and tinnitus fixed and I will be less cranky.
Things will get better.