Darren Endymion's Blog, page 5

Despair to Elation in Twelve Hours

This morning started with a series of dramatic panic attacks and, for the first time since I got here (indeed, for the first time in about three years of planning and wishing), I thought that I might have made the wrong decision in moving. My money is dreadfully stretched at the moment; I found out that my insurance plan will change to something absolutely, astonishingly shitty because I’ve changed states; my publisher is having troubles and hasn’t responded to my questions regarding the renewal of my novel’s contract, re-edit, and unified covers for the series; and my entire group at work is changing ownership to be under a historically challenging and difficult manager and a volatile director. It was all weighing heavily on my mind. So heavily, in fact, that I got very little work done and then I started to get short of breath. I spent the better part of my morning with my head in my hands, stressing, thinking I couldn’t breathe, and having hot flashes.

Then it all started coming together.

1) My best friend and roommate, for whom I would happily stretch my last dollar, got another job and starts next week.

2) My insurance plan remains absolute shit. However, with my best friend’s help, I found three subsidizing plans in addition to the one I already knew of to help shore up the awfulness. In addition to that, I was able to craftily prolong the period before the full heap of shit falls on me, so I have plenty of time to get the subsidizing plans in place before I need them.

3) My publisher is still having issues, but they are generous enough or believe in me enough that they are willing to work with me. I am getting another editing with an editor who has taught me a great deal and with whom I love working. I am getting the ability to work with the wonderful new cover artist to make a new cover and make it something that can be cohesive as I write the other books in the series. It also means that they believe in me enough to actually write the other books and that they will be good enough to publish.

4) My team is dealing with the changes rather well. In addition to that, my soon-to-be new director IMed me for help. Unfortunately, she got me when I was on break so I missed her. However, the moment I got back I sent her an IM back, and she responded that she found the answer, but she is planning on using me in the future. So, my timely response (all things considered) and my reputation there have compelled her to reach out to me for help. That’s a damn good start, considering she won’t technically be my boss for almost a month, and it sets a precedent. When your boss’ boss’ boss’ boss reaches out to you before she’s technically over you, shows that she’s testing you and has at least a little faith in you.

So, in about twelve hours I went from despondence to elation, and every time I sort of kick back and feel contentment, another level comes and takes it higher. Just in time, too.

Goodbyes and Hellos

To start out with a laughably pretentious truism, life is a series of endings and beginnings.

When I visited here I met a guy we shall call Edwin. We hung out, there was affection, we stayed in touch when I went back to California, and we got along very well. He’s smart, sweet, pretty sexy, and very social. The bad thing is that he reminded me quite a bit of my ex in many of the good ways.

When I moved here, Edwin and I made plans to hang out. We did so, messed around, and then went out to eat and have midnight nachos. Edwin is a busy, social, involved guy. I’m not trying to demand his time when I’m a new element in his life and this city. There was never any talk or indication that he wanted to be more than friends and/or friends with benefits.

Edwin saw me online this weekend and sent me a text at about 1am asking how I was doing and eventually inviting me over. I said another time would be better. The next morning, we chatted again and I got both barrels of WTF-ness.

He told me that he had been more than clear about his interest in me and that we shouldn’t hang out anymore. He claimed I was being passive and insecure with him. I told him that’s ironic because I’m totally comfortable with him (the resemblance to the good parts of my ex and without the drugs put me instantly and perpetually at ease). I told him that he’s showing me this awesome city, and I’m sitting there with wide-eyed wonder. He wasn’t having it. He said we can chat as friends in the future.

The take away: he liked me as more than friends (or naked friends) and somehow his one hang out, an invitation to hang out very late (when I work at 5:30am), and a weekend text at 1am to come over should have told me that he wanted to date. Because I did not respond the way he wanted, his ego was bruised and he started to think I was treating him as a tour guide. So, that was a goodbye. It’s unfortunate because he’s a good guy, but I think my only “crime” was being oblivious to his rather subtle and very few hints.

There’s another guy I have been talking to since I got here (we shall call him Raymond) and we haven’t really had time to meet. He’s been understanding and nice, and we’ve both had to cancel on each other a few times — understandable as he has three jobs and I’m still getting settled. Still, we had good chats, he has expressed interest in meeting and being able to talk and hanging out. I don’t assume intentions — not sex, not friends, nothing. Assumption is not only stupid, it sets you up for failure *staring at Edwin*. Raymond called me this weekend and we were talking, resetting the time of our supposed meeting. He said, “I really want to make sure we have time to talk on our first date.”

Date? Who? Where? This…okay. A date, then. Like a real date. We’ve texted a bit since then, and it’s been very nice. It may fall through, it may not come to anything, and it just might. Again, no assumptions. So, there is a hello which somewhat counters my other goodbye (without the horror of reminding me of an ex).

It was an unnecessary, abrupt ending and a positive (if protracted) hello. Life is full of them. These won’t be the last, and it just shows that life continues, even when you want to pause it so that you can get settled, physically and emotionally. Life carries on. Your only choice is to accept the goodbyes as well as the hellos.

Calm the Hell Down Already!

This should be a mantra, not only for me, who definitely has the tendency to get frantic at stupid shit rather easily, but some of the people I work with. Most of them, actually. Our main system had a few errors and our manager came in and told us that the system was down. Instead of leaving it at that, knowing that everyone knew about it, my team called me from 850 miles away to find out what I was going to do about it, what they should do, and how I was going to fix the errors generated by the system. Seriously. Like I was Jeannie and could magically fix it. *crossing arms, doink!*

I had a 15 minute conversation with them and answered questions and dumped water on their fears. It accomplished nothing. The moment I was off the phone, they changed their minds, had another discussion amongst themselves, and continued freaking out. My system stopped working, so I went on break for a bit, came back, and everything was perfect. They wasted like 25 minutes freaking out and making all these panicked contingency plans as though they were being attacked by xenomorphs and had no Ripley to rely on.

I can do the same thing, whether it’s with money or changes at work or even writing issues. The point is that when you calm down, step away, and give things a little time, you can approach them with a cleared mind more capable of rational thought.

As with the previous example, all they needed to do was go get some water, take a break, and chat for a while, knowing that their butts were covered with the manager knowing everything. Me? I rested for a moment and got something to drink. The system was being worked on, and we just needed to calm down and come back less than a half hour later.

Of course, life’s problems aren’t all solved by walking away from them. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I think the real lesson here is that when you can’t do anything at all and you’re sitting there, gridlocked, impotent, and frustrated, sometimes all you need to do is step away, calm your ass down a bit, and then come back to the project. Usually that rest will have given you the distance and insight to really tend to your duties, and will allow you to see the problems with more clarity, rather than lamenting that they are all encompassing.

 

Night of the Forgotten Lists

Another tragic side effect of moving with over half of your things having been in storage for a little over 2 years is running into things you forgot you had — and some you wish you could forget. One of the things I ran into this past week was an old diary. I have several of them because I think that journaling is important, but when I reread them I embarrass myself coming from a place of time, knowledge, and experience. I have therefore made a point to not read any of the diaries.

I am a list maker and have been for some time. I went to write out my Autumn 2016 list and was looking for a blank, bound diary I can keep my lists in. I found one and proceeded to evaluate it…then found that I had used this diary before years and years ago. I used it over the course of several years for the same purpose I now intend to use it again. Alas, I read the old entries and old lists. I tried not to, but I did.

What I learned is that I am way too hard on myself. There is a part of me — and I was shocked at how big of a part — that still thinks I am a horrible failure and is so critical of everything I do that forward progress becomes impeded by my abysmal attitude. I am truly my own worst enemy.

Reading some of these lists, some 10+ years old, I remember being so disappointed with myself for not finishing them. I remember being so down on myself for not being stronger. I was always in this perpetual state of disappointed misery because I didn’t do them and thought I never would. I thought they were the keys to the betterment of my life and my goals. Every un-checked box was like a betrayal of my life and who I wanted to be.

Years later, I have not only completed most of the items on the lists, but I have realized that most of the other tasks are totally irrelevant to me and who I want to be. There are only maybe two that I look back on and think, “You know what? I really should have done that.” Not finishing Final Fantasy VIII has not affected me in any discernable way. Not finishing the novel I was writing when I was 20 has. However, I have completed and published a novel since then. Not with a huge publisher, not with what I wanted to write, but I have done it.

And you know that novel I wrote about 25 chapters of when I was in my early 20s? That shit is pretty good. Had I read more epic fantasy and passed my novel around more and gotten more honest opinions, I might be in a different place than I am now. Probably better.

So, part of this taught me that I need to focus on the important parts instead of being bogged down in the more menial and less important tasks.

More than anything, though, it told me that I need to be easier on myself. Not every little failure is a life shattering event. I am determined and motivated and consistent. What I need to do is stop setting myself up for failure. Some of these lists and the time frame I gave myself to complete them in were (and are) absurd. I would have to clone myself or be Multiple Man to get even a fraction of them done in the time allotted. By setting myself up for failure I weaken my resolve, undermine my considerable successes, and see myself, my efforts, and my work as trivial and insignificant.

I’m better than I think, and my diminishing of that only serves to hold me back further, thus supposedly reinforcing this jaundiced view of myself. I’ve been doing it for years, and by becoming aware of it, I can stop it.

The Wheel Derailed

Many people, both past and present, see life like a great big wheel. You are the center and life happens around the edges with good and bad times, but you, the essential you, never changes. Yet the Wheel itself represents changes, ups and downs, and an ever altering state of mind. Sometimes, you set the wheel rolling in one direction and something comes up to stop it or derail it. Honestly, I don’t think that you can derail it too much. It’s like that power of karma that you and your intentions set into motion. That’s not to say that your life is predestined — I don’t believe that at all — but your thoughts and actions and intentions and choices lead you along a path. My grandmother was fond of saying that thoughts are things, essentially that what you put out into the world becomes your reality. You put that intent out there and your life is shaped accordingly, both good and bad.

I kicked my wheel down a ramp of intentions built up over two to three years.

I’m not good with change, but I knew that this move and all these changes would be best for me. I wasn’t wrong. However, because I’m not good with change, I have unwittingly tried to kick that wheel off course. Actually, that’s not entirely fair to me. I have kicked ass. However, in the guise of trying to “settle in” I have managed to stop the wheel’s progress.

Physically I am here in this new place in Oregon, 850 miles away from everything I have ever known. However, there is plenty of work to be done, and I’m just not doing it. There are boxes to take out, there is a room to organize, and there are boxes and totes to empty out. And I’m not doing it.

By not unpacking, essentially, I am keeping my emotional and mental anchor back in California. By not removing the empty boxes, I am tethering myself to the past because it means I’m still in transit, still not quite here. By not rearranging my room, I am keeping my life transitory.

I am slowing the wheel through my own inaction, with thoughts of, “I have plenty of time. I’m fine.” What happens when you slow a rolling wheel? The forward momentum is stopped or the wheel topples over. It is derailed.

I did not change my whole life, move 850 miles away, leave my friends, change everything outwardly only to fall into a new rut. And tomorrow I start to change it all. The worst part is over; I’m here. Now I just need to clean up a little and put the wheel back on its tracks.

Goals and Anchors

The aftermath of having a big change in your life can go one of two ways, I think. It can motivate you to keep the ball rolling and make all the changes in the world. Another way is that you hunker down and say, “Okay, that was a lot of bullcrap. Let’s calm down and see how the land lies.”

I have found myself on the latter side. I had hoped I wouldn’t be; I had hoped that I would keep the proverbial ball rolling. I have not. I have been trying to balance the disappointment in myself with the knowledge that it hasn’t even been a month yet. I’m thinking that as long as I don’t stay anchored to my past and those methods of life and actually make progress, I will be good.

There are, of course, several negatives.

— Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have questioned the possibility of writing anything new because there are some barriers with my publisher’s situation.

— One of those things is a possible (though now unlikely) new edit and (hopefully) new cover for my first novel. I’m putting off the second novel because of the things I mentioned as well as the potential work I will have to do on the first.

— I’m having dreams that are pissing me off. They are either hurtful or angering and are clearly dealing with some issues that I have pushed down and haven’t deal with fully. Some of this is separation anxiety from everything I have ever known and is therefore excusable. But constantly waking up miserable or pissed off is draining.

On the positive side, there are signs that I’m growing and am pulling up anchor.

— My legs are stronger every day due to all the stairs. We’re having a bout of warmth again, but low 80s and high 70s are nothing compared to what I’m used to. The leaves are starting to change off in the distance. Soon I won’t be able to resist venturing outside more and I will walk out there again, music or an audio book playing away.

— I’ve made progress with the boxes, have planned out my room, and know how I’m going to go about sorting and getting rid of the other things I have accumulated and no longer need.

— My imagination is perking again, and stories are peeking around the backstage curtains of my mind — some old friends as well as some nebulous others I haven’t had the fortune of getting to know yet. None of them are ready to take center stage, but the theater is being dusted, the sound is being checked, and the lights are being replaced. Soon.

— The shock of everything has totally changed my schedule. I’ve also been afraid to go out to more than one or two places (though those places have provided me with…well, let’s not talk about all that. *licentious grin*). All this is stirring and changing.

Overall, I think my anchor is still in Southern California, and I’m picking it up and transferring it here. After having that mental anchor moved here (when it all really starts to seem real and not like a long-ass vacation), I will be able to float around and discover the new waters I find myself in. I’m too stubborn, too strong, and too tenacious to stay aimless for long. My little ass did not move 850 miles away to better my situation (which I have, tremendously) only to get into another rut. Screw that.

This place had better look out. I’m getting my shoes on and getting ready. *grin*

From Dread to Relief

I’m sitting here at the tail end of a three-day weekend and I kept having this feeling like I was forgetting something…like something was missing. I had to think about it for some time until I realized what it was.

Dread.

Normally on any given weekend, especially on the longer ones, and infinitely more on the vacation weekends where I take 4-5 days off, I am filled with dread and almost despair. In the past, this last day off has meant that I have to return to the drama at work where so many things are distracting and hateful and I’m forced to deal with vituperative coworkers who can’t bear to go a single day without stabbing each other in the back.

Then when work was over I had to return to a house where my often drug addled, sullen, lustily-staring ex-boyfriend would skulk about the place making everything he came in contact with unpleasant. Being around him felt like trying to lick the musty ass of a Dementor. My roommate himself was a wonderfully kind, generous older man (with an infrequent but explosive temper that rarely came into play) who utterly enabled my ex. The house was such that I willingly confined myself to my room for 90% of the time I was there. Bringing friends over was nearly out of the question.

Add to that all the leg problems I was having, the constant heat, the lack of any real independence, and every day was a challenge. The worst of all that was the night before having to return to work.

All of that is now gone. All of it.

My leg is so much better and getting stronger every day. I don’t mind work — I can listen to music, have Netflix playing in the background, listen to an audio book, and, as I said before, I am generally free from the drama. I do my work, I can have fun during it, and when it’s over I have a beautiful new city to explore. Also, I’m living with one of my best friends in a city of tolerance and happiness. The people here are nice, I can have people over without embarrassment, I can go out and socialize, I feel comfortable in my kitchen and living room, and there is no specter of doom loping around the place bringing down the mood.

The dread is gone. Relief has replaced it.

And I couldn’t be happier.

I’m Rubber, You’re Glue

The first test of working at home is at hand, and I couldn’t be happier.

Back in California in the office, the drama is erupting like an old pustule heated to the boiling point. (Ewwe. That was gross.)

Krysta is the woman who would give me rides when my leg was in a lot of pain…but make me pay not only monetarily (not an issue), but by drowning me in passive aggressive, negative, hateful comments and actions. I would ask her constantly if she was over it and wanted me to find another way to and from work, I did everything I could to express my gratitude…and she would still talk shit while assuring me to my face that it wasn’t an issue. I feel that I also need to say here that this huge ride we are talking about is 5 minutes each way by car, a mile and a half. Krysta’s crap talking was never limited to just me, either. Anyone was fair game.

Finally, Jessie — a challenging and difficult woman to work with in the best of times — asked why, if everyone bothered her so much, she wasn’t just upfront with us. Jessie is one of those people with whom you don’t ever need to wonder how she feels because she is straightforward as hell.

On Monday, Krysta came in early and started doing other people’s work because she wasn’t set up. Jessie came in and threw a fit because it was her work that Krysta was doing. They had a little tiff and it was over.

Someone else went and told our supervisor that there was trouble. Shit started and it blew out of proportion. Krysta and Lonnie are very close, but as they both so often do, they started talking crap on each other in instant messenger to various other people. Then I was brought up. Krysta told someone that I fled the state and was ready to quit my job because of Jessie. I don’t know where to begin to say what’s wrong with that. And Krysta has no idea what she did, nor would she recognize it if someone told her.

I was sitting happily at home, totally unaware of anything going on until the next day. Happily, the workplace drama tried to pass me by, took a boomerang turn, and bounced right off me. I didn’t participate, I didn’t acknowledge it, I didn’t have anything to do with it.

But Krysta, Jessie, and Lonnie all got it. Our supervisor confronted them all with a print out of their IMs to each other. All that drama they tried to throw at other people — including me, almost 900 miles away — bounced off the intended targets, and stuck to their messy asses.

All that shit, all that trying to drag other people into it, it all is bouncing off the targets and sticking right to the shit talkers. It’s like watching karma in action. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but think that it’s years of evil coming back to haunt them. And it’s bouncing off me and right back to the slingers. Most of me is glad to be apart and away and is spending time pretending that I am above it all. The other part of me is vindictive and filled with glee, watching this from the sidelines and cackling. This part is kicking with evil happiness and ordering more popcorn for the next round. This is also the part who would take the time to write an entry like this.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go put that part of me in a headlock and let the good person back out.

Aimless

After achieving a huge goal it’s natural to feel rather aimless. I’m feeling that right now in ways I never thought I would suffer from. I literally feel like I have nothing to do.

Sure, I have plenty of things to do. I have unpacking, the total rearranging of my room, the tossing of what seems like a billion boxes, but that’s not a BIG goal. It’s one that will drive me insane over time, but it’s not anything serious. I recently got the renewal contract for my novel, but I was told by my editor that I might be able to negotiate a new cover (please!) and a new edit. Sign me up. There is my whole writing career that I would actually like to tend to. There is a social life to live…but at the moment, none of that is urgent enough to give me purpose.

Here’s how I see it:

My life in the past several years was a torment, a chore, something to be endured rather than experienced. Yes, that sounds dramatic and it is to an extent. Let’s modify it and say that almost no existence is devoid of happiness and light, but the past several years were incredibly challenging — more so than I want to go into right now. I decided that in order to be happy, I needed to abandon certain things in my life. I was wrong. I needed to flee some things and just alter others. It took years to get to the point where I was able to do it, and it was a struggle, an act of sheer willpower, and took a dedicated savings habit that would make Scrooge McDuck give me a loan. Now I’m here. The changes have been made. My life is everything I wanted it to be and more. There is so much potential in my life right now.

And I don’t know what to do.

Think of it like riding a storm surge after being in a horrible shipwreck, stumbling on a wave the size of a three-story building. When you land safely, against all odds, you look around stunned and elated…and then you wonder what’s next. Where’s the next wave? And does the next one need to come after such hardship?

So, there I am. I’m on that beach, the skies are clearing, I’m not only safe but secure and happy and in a better place than I have been in years. I’m looking around for that next wave, still stunned that I’m alive and have made it this far.

This time, however, I don’t plan to ride a tidal wave. I’ll stick to something fun and challenging that will make me grow — and has less of a chance of dashing me to bits under its swell. If I’m a little aimless in the meantime, that only to be expected.

And it’s only temporary.

Still Here, Still Bewildered

It doesn’t seem like things have changed at all. I’m still in the state and place I have wanted to be in for years. The work at home has been fantastic and I have been able to do more than I would have on other days…while watching Netflix and listening to music.

It doesn’t feel real. I still expect to wake up to the sound of my ex getting in the shower in the bathroom between our rooms, to get some passive aggressive attention, to have dogs barking incessantly, to have September and half of October being in the 80s and 90s, to have some odd work team being ugly, to be miserable and hot and helplessly out of it.

Instead, I am arranging my apartment, dealing with the heat while knowing it will be raining next week (and about 20 degrees cooler), and working at home…willingly doing overtime. I have not been able to go out socially except for one night since I have been here, but tonight I ended up double booking myself but working instead. I have made the beginnings of friends and sense a date in my future. The people are nice. I can choose who I associate with. I can go out and have a social life. I have plans tomorrow and possibly Saturday.

My life has changed, but it feels like I am on an indoor vacation in a too-hot place. When does this end? It’s too soon. Is this the beginning of happiness? Is it my life now?

I don’t know, but I’m happy so far. And I refuse to believe that the bottom will drop out. This is my life, and it is happiness waiting to bloom.