I’m having a sad day. Another black man was murdered by police today. I’ve heard various details so far, all of which have increased the tragedy, and decreased the competence of the police involved. The event was set in motion by the victim’s sister, who called the police to help her brother. This action of calling the police to help a black American in distress is steadily becoming a lethal choice. I’m grateful that I reside in an area of America that allows me to appreciate the protection of my local police force, despite having brown skin. I don’t understand why this basic assurance of safety, and fairness in accordance with the law, isn’t afforded to all American citizens and their dependents.
I recently learned that paying federal income tax is optional, and if you do, you’re a sucker. Lie, cheat, steal, rape, and kill. Rinse, and repeat. Then run for president. Americans will elect you, because lying, cheating, stealing, raping, and killing are acceptable behaviors so long as you have the right name, skin color, and blind support from those unwilling to hold you accountable for your past actions, and utter lack of character, because they strongly suspect it’s better than their own. Fucking pathetic.
I’m an insignificant accident, stumbling through time. I’m witness to the beautiful horror that is life. Today, I exist. Tomorrow, the memory of dissipation. Entropy is a guarantee, eventually. I concede, it doesn’t matter.
Today was rough. The thunderstorms stopped, and I was catching up on much needed sleep, when at 3 AM, I heard shouting outside my window. As I lay there, debating about whether or not I wanted to look out and see what the ruckus was all about, my cat took it upon herself to jump onto the window sill and (I assume), scold the culprit for being too loud. She must have been in deep slumber, too. So I got out of bed, and looked out the window. There were 3 police SUV’s parked in non-parking spaces, apparently talking to a resident. I heard the resident shouting obscenities at the police. I rolled my eyes, and pulled on the jeans I had discarded on the chair before laying down.
I pulled on a t-shirt and went out onto my balcony to get a better look. The resident seemed to be either under the influence of something potent, or perhaps having a bad mental health night. The police were patient, as it went on for about an hour. I got my humongous jug and filled it with water again. Then I heard more cussing, so I looked outside, and the resident was laying on his back on the ground. He was probably restrained, but I couldn’t tell in the darkness. He continued to cuss at the police, like they had no business intervening in whatever led them to be summoned. The next time I checked, they were gone. I felt reassured that our police are excellent, and don’t murder people.
I was too tired to go back to sleep, so I got out a coloring book and my gel pens, and listened to some Bach with headphones on. It helped me wind down enough to try laying down again at around 5 AM. I slept until 7:23 AM, when the garbage trucks started banging dumpsters. I proceeded to work, business as usual, but found I couldn’t focus very well. We’re doing Lego stop-motion, so I was frustrated not to be able to contribute much. I told them I’d make a soundtrack this weekend, so there’s that. It’s a good thing, because it’s also one of the activities in my Depression Box. I met with my therapist again today, after getting stressed out over finding out my lease was up for renewal. I wasn’t planning to renew, as I’m moving to Denver as soon as I’m able to make the change.
After discussing my options, my therapist agreed that renewing for a year was a good plan. It will allow me to pull off this major challenge of relocating to a new state when I’m ready. My new unit isn’t ready for occupation, and I don’t want to stay in a hotel, or with one of my nephews while it’s completed. I was bawling when the session began, but by the time it was over, I was smiling, and no longer freaked out. I had no idea therapy could be so effective. This isn’t the first time she’s helped me avert a meltdown, either. I didn’t even know that was possible. There aren’t words to describe how awesome that is.
My nephews are wizards with wood, and are making me some custom lighted displays for my vinyl figure collection, as well as a custom computer desk that will allow me to have both my gaming desktop, and my Mac desktop integrated into one awesome setup. My bed design plan turned out to be hideous when I saw it in CAD. I like to feel enclosed when I sleep, so I thought it would be an awesome solution. I was so wrong. Instead, my sister said to look into a canopy bed. Apparently, that would accomplish the enclosed feeling without being a fugly fire hazard. It was monstrous! I’m absolutely not switching to a career in furniture design. You’re welcome.
My nephew thought it was hilarious. Architects can be such furniture snobs. It would be annoying if it wasn’t funny. So, no to this, (I’d never sleep):
Yes to something like this:
The good news is that Denver has stores like Design Within Reach, West Elm, and Room and Board. One of them will have something that works, I’m sure. I’m headed east next weekend to visit my Neurology specialist. I’m going to head down to NYC afterward, and visit my sister. Hopefully I’ll find some lowbrow artwork I love. Some of my favorite artists live there. The weather has cooled off, but at least there’s no thunder. I’m pretty loopy from sleep deprivation, so I’m off to read, then crash.
It’s been a good day. Things went well at work today, and the guys were marvelling that after only 1 therapy session, things are “back to normal”. I told them that it’s true we had a good day, but not to assume that it means 50 minutes of talking her ear off and listening to feedback was all that was needed to eliminate the issues with which I’ve struggled. I said the can of worms is open, and now I have to keep fighting through symptoms until my subconscious catches up. While I do that, she’ll teach me some new skills for coping so that the next time I’m struggling, I can work it out by myself.
Now that I’ve calmed down about opening up to her, I can comprehend her feedback better. At one point she asked me for further details about what we were discussing. I felt myself start to shut down. It felt like I was being yanked back and up at a very high speed. But before my body locked up, she said it was okay, I didn’t have to tell her. It happened in an instant, and the timing was perfect. A moment longer, and I wouldn’t have been able to understand that she retracted the request. I would have had a meltdown in front of her. I’m so glad that didn’t happen. But it also made me recognize the fact that I’m afraid of that happening in front of her. So I’m disarming that minefield. It’s irrational, and I hate being irrational.
A few friends on Twitter helped me make a form to address sexual harassment in the workplace. They read it, and agreed not to continue with the behavior. The guys like to tell dirty jokes, and make sexual innuendos at work. It’s uncomfortable to me because it doesn’t fit in the co-worker relationship category. I ignored it for a long time. Then I didn’t want to hear it anymore, so I just worked from home most of the time, and kept my office door closed when I went in. My work performance hasn’t been where I want it, either. Low level depression symptoms are easy to miss. I took a depression assessment quiz the other day, and some of the answers I chose were inaccurate because I didn’t realize at that time some of the symptoms I’m experiencing. It didn’t click that my new VR goggles and Alexa Dot gadgets, still sealed in their packaging, is an example of my interests waning.
Normally, when I get a shiny new gadget, I’m like teenager who just bought their first car. I want to spend time with it, show it off a little, and figure out everything it can do. I keep thinking about them, but still haven’t touched them. A friend on Twitter figured it out when I mentioned this. I need to put it on my schedule. I have to push myself to do the things I normally love for now. Eventually, the effort required will decrease, until it’s gone. Then I’ll be able to experience the joy again. For whatever reason, knowing this helps. I always find comfort in knowing what I need to do.