Matthew Temple

I went to my counseling appointment

Wed, 30 May 2012 18:18:00 -0400

Rode my bike there—it’s a lovely day for a bike ride.

I mentioned to my counsellor my seeming hypomania and he got me an appointment with the doctor tomorrow. We talked about the “You do you” philosophy and Ryan said it sounded like I was doing it well, that it was working for me. I’m not acute enough for the program I’m in, I’m too highly-functioning, he says, so I’ll be moved to a different program. It will still include counseling. It was nice to get some feedback that I’m not as fucked up as I think I am; Ryan encouraged me to look up historical figures with bipolar disorder as a way to learn that this doesn’t have to control my life. I’m glad, though, that I’m not being kicked out with nowhere to go: I like to have some counseling as part of my mix. He also said it sounded like the ways I’m coping with my current hypomania, are good. He pointed out that I created a number of coping mechanisms (sitting outside in the cool, eating food to ground myself, taking time away from twitter, etc.)—his point was that no one had to tell me those, I recognized the need for them and found them myself. That feedback, along with the fact that I realized I was hypomanic early on rather than my first realization being days later, on the day I need to go to the emergency room..those combine to help me feel a little bit proud that I’m managing this better than I have before.

Interesting people with bipolar disorder:

Speeding on bipolar disorder's mania

Wed, 30 May 2012 00:27:00 -0400

I am now. I just realized it tonight. It’s been rising for about three days, I can retrospectively tell, by my difficulty falling asleep and my waking up earlier and earlier. I am hypomanic now. I should have noticed by my skipping concentration as I’ve been reading, but it’s hard to notice things like that when you have no clue you’re supposed to be looking for them. Gradually, I am learning things like sleep, which are cues I need to keep an eye on.

When I’m hypomanic I write things like this. Which are perfectly sensible, which consist of good commentary, but which are overcharged. It’s fine to say things like that to some company I’m never going to work for (and, yes, I did send them the link), but I would say things like that to my current employer, in email, when I worked. When I’m manic it just seems like a good idea! But it’s the sort of thing that can get you fired, and is part of why I’m unemployable.

This—how I am now—is just high enough to write. To kindle this state and let it ride for a few months, balancing it with silences in the evening so it doesn’t get out of control, is what I did with ::HARD, and it might be what I’m about to do with this next project, if I write it. I have a song that goes through my head. I think I can time my mania to it: the faster I hum it to myself, the speedier I am. I am humming it pretty fast now.

Words get me charged up—twitter, reading, writing, phone conversations. The less there’s a visual component, the speedier I get: so an exciting phone conversation is the worst. When I talk with my sister (a person who is intelligent, full of ideas) it can overcharge me. We have to limit phone time, sometimes.

So I’m sitting outside. Yes, I am writing. Maybe it’s not the best idea. But I have to remark on this, somehow, as my experience, and this is the best way to do it. I ate some food, to ground myself in my body, and in a minute I’m going to take my nighttime medicine, skipping the antidepressant (per doctor’s instruction, during times of mania) and taking the prescribed repeat on the sleeping med, to hopefully get me to sleep. I’m not in an unpleasant state, not quite, but I know where this can go, and where it goes is to a psych hospital, and I don’t want to go to one of those right now.

I just re-read this post, and found it difficult to stay on track. But I’m glad I did re-read it because I had already forgotten that I was about to take my medication. See, it’s tricky to remember things at times like these.

WANTED: Badass Rock Star C++ Code Ninjas

Tue, 29 May 2012 21:32:00 -0400

You must be joking.

I encountered this post today while looking for jobs. It is an insult to corporate credibility, and to concise language. I’ve encountered many companies before, looking for either rock stars or ninjas, but never one looking for both at the same time.

I would apply for this job, but I am neither a rock star nor a ninja.

I’m a software developer. I know C++. But how can I apply to this job in good conscience? It further illustrates the current flavor of corporate culture that they’re looking for badasses. I’ve worked in software for 10+ years and you don’t need badasses. You need capable software engineers. What is wrong with using the term “software developer” when looking for someone who knows C++? Or “C++ programmer”? Does everyone have to be a badass rockstar who is also a ninja in order to work for these hip new companies?

The bottom line here, sadly, has nothing to do with this particular company and everything to do with the fact that at 34, I have been squarely generation-gapped by a new wave of company and employee, who thinks it’s cool to call themselves these terms. I wish I could apply to this job, but I would be sorely out of place in an environment where programmers get off on calling themselves ninjas.

Dream I can't walk

Tue, 29 May 2012 13:12:46 -0400

My knees are pressed together, my legs are failing. I’m going up a hill, and there’s icy slush on it. And there are trucks behind me, looming. One washes me in a torrent of slush and I’m soaked. I’m walking with a cane; my legs won’t move the way I want them to!

Can’t walk dreams reflect feelings of powerlessness in waking life to reach a goal or keep up with others. If not immediately obvious, look to the location and the key people in the dream for clues as to the waking life issue. Where in waking life are you feeling frustrated in getting where you want to go? Being unable to walk due to injury or incapacity reflect feelings of being hurt or unsupported respectively in waking life.

Another random/sprawling post

Mon, 28 May 2012 16:10:00 -0400

I’ve been thinking about age recently, how I’m 34 and by various measurements that could be 1/2, 1/3, or some other fraction of my life. Wanting to do everything I can, of course, with my life, given my position in life, and thinking of how limited that might be. I’m appreciating what life and time I do have, just in sitting in the backyard with my computer or lying in bed waiting to fall asleep.

I’m working on not beating myself up for imperfection. It’s natural for me to hate myself for imperfect communicative interaction: a miffed twitter encounter, a conversation gone slightly wrong. It makes me cringe when it happens but I’m working at letting it go, and not making up in my mind what the other person might be thinking about the encounter. I’m fairly psycho when it comes to this, and would like to be less so. I’m a perfectionist, what can I say?

I’ve been reading online today. Poetry. By Gabby Gabby. I enjoy.

And my outline is coming along, for this new novel. I have about five pages now, chronological, hierarchical, detailing the main character and a handful of supporting character’s action, with many scenes drawn out. I could definitely start writing from this outline, but I have two concerns. 1) I want to make sure I’m in a peaceful enough place, where I can have the rigorous scheduled time I need, to write this. Writing during Daniel’s nap means that writing time is variable, and—I don’t know—I just want to make sure I really have the time to write it, once I start. 2) is that I might want to write something more surreal, less structured, instead of writing this novel at all. On (1), part of me is considering whether I might be able to write this with a little less structures time, i.e. not knowing that I have 1/2 or all of a day set out for writing, but writing during Daniel’s nap, then a little after dinner, etc. It doesn’t seem unrealistic that that could work, but I want to have a plan going into it. On (2), I don’t know, I had so much fun writing Untitled document (even though now I have extreme doubts about its worth), that maybe it might be fun to do something else that is not a straight story. It’s all up in the air.

In my last post, I said there was some stress associated with my book coming out—what a punk, privileged, selfish thing to say! What kind of stress is associated with your first novel coming into print by a growing, cool, literary press? It’s a low-key affair. It’s not like I have to do anything, really, except not freak out and let the publisher do his part to help promote and sell my book! So maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, or a mis-statement. The fact that it’s going to be out of my hands, even, that it’s going to be a real grown-up book that I can’t edit at a moment’s notice..is ok with me. I’m happy with what is in that book, I’m confident about the text, I trust it. So I don’t need to be worried about it, really. Maybe I’m a bit sad the writing is done, even though it’s been done for years. Maybe I hope it turns into something other than a low-key affair: that we get someone major to review it. I would love that, but, I guess, like with the rest of that project, there’s nothing I can do about it. I wrote it. It’s over. It’s done. Time for me to do something else.

I guess the last thing I’ll tell you is that I’m struggling with abusing my prescription medication. I’m tempted to double up on the antidepressant, even though doing it doesn’t do anything but make me grind my teeth. Also, when I take my PRN anti-anxiety medication, I feel like I’m abusing it, even though according to doctor’s instructions, I’m not. I’m supposed to take it up to three times a day, and I usually take it once, at night, because it makes me tired. But that’s the thing: I’m taking it because it makes me tired, not because it makes me less anxious, so I feel like I’m abusing it to manipulate my sleep, which feels like misuse. None of this matters, except that as a sometimes drug user, taking this Rx medicine feels just as manipulative and control-oriented and in some ways as addictive as doing coke. I’m doing it when I don’t really want to be doing it, I’m doing it for complex reasons, and I’m thinking about it waaaaay too much. It just feels like I haven’t made much progress in terms of mental addictions, and my old psychiatrist would probably be telling me that she thinks I need to spend more time meditating, to get to the present moment.

Photo

Fri, 25 May 2012 23:59:54 -0400

Fairly good day, psychologically

Fri, 25 May 2012 21:58:00 -0400

Think I’m coming out of the funk I’ve been in. I never know when it’s going to occur, though, which is trouble. But I’m feeling better now. Working on an outline for a book. I have three and a half pages of notes for what these characters might do and be like. I think I’m repeating myself thematically, but other than that, I have enough new material to write another book.

Got a group email from my publisher today, to all the writers. I’m so glad to be among them! A little bit of my insecurity has come to the surface in my email conversations with Bryan, but it’s to be expected. There’s some stress with the fact that my book is going to be published. It’s out of my hands now, going to be a real book with a life of its own. I’ve decided I’m not celebrating this enough, with myself. I think I need to be overjoyed but maybe that’s forcing things. I definitely want to enjoy it, in my own mind, a little more than I have been. My book is getting published!

And that’s it. I’ve been on twitter chronically, chatting it up over there. I might take a break from it if I write this book—or at least only tweet after I’ve done my writing for the day. Excited about possibly working on something new!

See you soon,
MT

Blood tests

Thu, 24 May 2012 13:46:43 -0400

I went to the doctor this morning to get the results of various blood tests. The good news is I’ve escaped hepatitis and HIV, and all sorts of other conditions. The bad news is I have high cholesterol and the beginnings of fatty liver and diabetes. So I need to change my diet and start exercising—more than just riding my bike. I’m not 21 anymore, I guess is the bottom line. I wish I had had health insurance and doctors’ care this whole time so I would have known about this sooner, but I can start with what I know now, and make a change.

"Everybody has to change, or they expire… I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things..."

Wed, 23 May 2012 14:43:18 -0400

“Everybody has to change, or they expire… I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently. Only the good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning.”

- Donald Miller (via spycnsweet)

Sleeping

Tue, 22 May 2012 15:52:00 -0400

So far I’ve slept all day. Not because I’m tired but because I don’t want to face being awake. I think they call that depression. Even when I’m not sleeping, I’m just lying there, with my face covered, thinking.

Believing there's going to be a future

Mon, 21 May 2012 22:24:09 -0400

I think part of my thing is for so long I haven’t really believed there would be a future. And I want to change that, somehow. I know there are no guarantees, that you never know when you’re going to die, but I would like to live believing there will be a future. I’m only 34. I’d like to believe that there could be a long life ahead of me, that who I am will unfold in some way along that time. Too often I’m stunted from even dreaming, due to a sense of impending doom. I want to start seeing myself in the long term, instead of in little blitzes designed to get some goody out of life before something tragic happens. It’s part of the way I was raised: grew up with a prominent tragic death in my life, so I’m always thinking people are just about to break. And that might be, with me; it might be. But it’s probably not; I’m probably going to live for a while, and when I think about my life, I’d like to think of it as though 34 is less of an end and more of (in some ways) a beginning.

Nostalgia

Mon, 21 May 2012 16:54:00 -0400

My friend from Vermont called and I haven’t even called her back yet and my mind is filling with nostalgia for where I used to live there. Even more than Tucson, whose weather I loved, I loved living in Vermont. The people there are just my style, and I had gotten to know a lot of the town, as it was a very small town I lived in! I miss having that camaraderie with people, going out and seeing the same people everywhere, and I miss going out to drink. Some of my best times have been drinking, and I miss drinking at Kips and at the new Metropolis, over there in Brattleboro. I miss the people, who are too many to name, and I wish there was some way I could get back there! I wish I’d never left! I know I’m chasing memories, but those were good ones. I think I fit there. I really fell apart last year. I wish that hadn’t happened so I could have kept on living where I lived.

Feeling better today

Mon, 21 May 2012 14:41:11 -0400

Today is better. I woke up early and have been playing with my nephew and hanging out with my sister. Daniel is going down for his nap so I’m going to write in a minute.

Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for encouraging me and talking with me recently. I’ve needed the extra company and have gotten it online.

You’re the best. —MT

Writing like it's my job

Sun, 20 May 2012 22:55:00 -0400

To my last post Josh genius-ly responded “It’s happening.” Which is all the assurance I need for a while.

I’m gonna start writing like it’s my job. I’ve been writing, yes, but I’m going to pretend that I make money writing, that writing is my job, and I’m going to write accordingly.

Assignment: write like it’s your job.

How my thoughts go

Sun, 20 May 2012 21:58:00 -0400

I just cleaned the bathrooms, which latex gloves made nice. Before that, I was lying on the couch, thinking. Here is how my thinking goes:

I’m a pain to my housemates (my sister and her family) so I should get out of here and go somewhere, like back to Vermont, or Tucson, places where various factors would make being homeless a semi-viable option.
No, that doesn’t make any sense. I shouldn’t plan to be homeless. I’ve done that before and it sucked. I should find a job.
I probably won’t be able to get a software job like I used to have, because I haven’t worked in so long that they won’t want to hire me. I’m no good anymore at what I used to do; I wasn’t meant to do it; etc.
So then I’ll have to get a menial job, like working at Taco Bell. Which means I probably won’t make enough money to actually live (pay rent and such). So what’s the point?
No, I should hold off looking for work. My benefits might come through—I am crazy, remember? I have bipolar disorder and am disabled from working by my symptoms. I was living in the hospital, dude! I should wait for benefits to come through, that way I at least have some spending money while I live with my sister—or maybe they’d actually be enough to live on!
Ahh! What should I do?

I know I need to be the one to make changes, that I can’t expect anything to happen for me. The only thing I’ve cared about for a while now is getting a book published. That’s been my holy grail. I’ve even thought horrible things like once I get a book published, then I can kill myself, because I will have done something in my life and it won’t matter if I die. But I don’t want it to be like that anymore, I want to live, I want to do more things, I want to keep going. And I don’t want to keep going in the rut described by the bullet points above, I want it to go in a free and happy manner. I want to possibly own a house someday, or at least have an apartment again. I want a home. I would love if I could make my living writing, which is something I think I could deal with as a profession. I know it would be hard, to continue producing books, but I would infinitely rather be doing that than just about anything else I can think of. Please, Universe, please, let it happen.

Nothing. Wrong with me.

Sun, 20 May 2012 16:47:00 -0400

Today is one of those days where I think there’s. Nothing. Wrong with me.

I think I have been misdiagnosed as an alcoholic and bipolar. Or maybe I’m both—and I just don’t care.

I never was a daily user of anything but alcohol. I never even showed withdrawal signs to that. I’ve never had a “compulsive need to use controlled substances in order to function normally”, so according to the Wikipedia page, I’m not dependent on substances.

As for bipolar disorder: what the hell is it, anyway? So I have highs and lows: all that means is I have a pulse, I’m not one of the rocks our society classifies as normal. I’m the normal one. In many ways, I’m the healthy one. I never would have been in the hospital if society and I were a better fit: does that mean I’m in the wrong?

The same is true for alcohol: we live in a world with alcohol and tons of other drugs. It’s natural, in that context, to use those substances to some extent. Not saying that such use can’t be painful: but is it the individual who causes the problem there? I don’t think the answer is a simple yes.

It just doesn’t seem today that anything’s wrong with me. So I was depressed; so I tried to kill myself, even..that happens! People get depressed. People kill themselves. Life sucks sometimes—it really does. Does that mean there’s something wrong with the person who kills themself—I argue it does not always mean that. Sometimes the fault lies in circumstance, not the individual.

And that’s how I’m feeling today: a child of circumstance. It’s completely natural to be me, given what I’ve grown up around, what I’ve dealt with as an adult. Completely natural. Not disordered, like the papers and the doctors say. Maybe the medicine is just working, but I don’t know. I think we categorize the individual sometimes because it’s easier than categorizing the systems surrounding it.

Notes from Dąbrowski

Sat, 19 May 2012 17:46:00 -0400

Notes from Dąbrowski:

Dąbrowski is an old friend in times of need, for me. Just now I did some reading from the wiki page.

developmental potential creates crises characterized by strong anxieties and depressions—psychoneurosis—that precipitate disintegration

critical components of individual development include autoeducation and autopsychotherapy

our emphasis on corporate success (“a dog eat dog mentality”) means that many CEOs operate on the basis of first factor — they will quickly sacrifice another to enhance their own advancement.

Thus, this external value system absolves the individual of any individual responsibility.

What a great insight: that it’s an *external* value system.

Dąbrowski called OE “a tragic gift” to reflect that the road of the person with strong OE is not a smooth or easy one. Potentials to experience great highs are also potentials to experience great lows. Similarly, potentials to express great creativity hold the likelihood of experiencing a great deal of personal conflict and stress. This stress both drives development and is a result of developmental conflicts, both intrapsychic and social. Suicide is a significant risk in the acute phases of this stress.

to be maladjusted to a low-level society is a positive feature.

Level V is often marked by creative expression. Especially at Level V, problem solving and art represent the highest and noblest features of human life. Art captures the innermost emotional states and is based on a deep empathy and understanding of the subject. Often, human suffering and sacrifice are the subjects of these works. Truly visionary works, works that are unique and novel, are created by people expressing a vision unrestrained by convention. Advances in society, through politics, philosophy and religion, are therefore commonly associated with strong individual creativity or accomplishments.

the gifted will disproportionately display this process of positive disintegration and personality growth.

The Fucked Up One

Sat, 19 May 2012 15:35:00 -0400

I’m still worried people will find out I’m weird: that’s the stage of development I’m at. Neophyte. Still worried if people like me. Worried I’ll do something weird. I’m not nearly as expansive as my teenage self would have thought he’d have become.

Scared of people unfollowing me on twitter: not everyone, but certain people.

Afraid to celebrate what’s good about my life, for fear of alienating other people: I’m getting a book published, which is a great thing, a rare thing, and (most importantly) it’s exactly what I’ve been going after. But I’m afraid to celebrate because I don’t want to push away those around me via things going well. Afraid we’re all too used to things going poorly with me that no one wants things to go well with me, because it’ll mess up the formula or something..like there’s some trend that wants upholding, that good things in my life go against, like I’m disappointing the trend by having something to celebrate. I’m the Fucked Up One; it messes up the balance of the universe if things go well for me. That’s just how I feel, what I’m afraid of. Whether that has any overlap with anyone else’s reality, I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe these are just all my fears.

It’s hard to be without income for so long, and the longer I don’t work, the harder it is to get a job, because they see this big gap in employment, which shows that there’s something wrong with me.

We bought a flower today. I picked it out and my sister bought it for me. It’s called “Lavender Bliss” and it’s an annual, or a perennial, or something, which means it has to go into a pot (Amy says) and she assured me we have a shovel so I’m going to plant it later and put it in the back yard. It will keep me company and be my perfect little buddy and all my problems will go away.

I talked recently about needing to change my internal monologue. I think this is something I want to change: to stop thinking I’m the fucked up one, regardless of what others might still think around me. So: I’ll start to say it: I’m not the fucked up one anymore.

Slept most of the day

Fri, 18 May 2012 22:14:00 -0400

Feel a little guilty about it but it’s a decent way to reset myself, get through some of this depression I’m feeling. I’ve been really worried about house stuff—living arrangement stuff—and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to relax myself on that. Do what I can to help things go smoothly, and release control of the rest.

Also I’ve been thinking about sex, some, today. I just wrote a piece where sex figures prominently, and it’s fun to think about it during the writing process. But I realize that in my real life, I’m too depressed for sex. I’m too depressed to really be free to be aware of myself sexually, to relate sexually. This has been the case for many years, and it might take me a while to change this, but this is something I’d like to change about myself. I want to enjoy that part of life again, someday not too terribly far in the future.

I’ve been feeling uncomfortable about blogging lately, worried that it’s all just a bitch-fest about my emotions. I haven’t really toyed seriously with quitting, though, as I have in the past (take everything down, privatize posts, etc.). I think the way out is through. Or the way through is through. So I plan to do even more blogging about my emotional state, mundane details of life, and anything else that comes to mind.

I want to start feeling pride,

Fri, 18 May 2012 15:17:00 -0400

feeling good about the things I do. I’m alive, I’m breathing—isn’t that reason enough to allow myself to feel good? I don’t know what steps to take, to start feeling the way I want to feel, but I think changing my internal monologue is part of it. That’s a hard thing to do but I’m working on it.

Trying to recover from yesterday. Yesterday was a mess. Yesterday was hard. And yesterday is yesterday, not today. I hope to squeeze some enjoyment out of today, make this day an ok day, if possible. I’m tired of my life being so hard all the time and _I want to change that_.

I’ve got to give myself a break. Things aren’t perfect at home—ok. I’ve had a rough year, I spent a lot of last fall in the hospital, and I’m doing good work, right now, on new writing and working with SRP to get Things Said in Dreams published. That’s enough, right, for now? I’ll improve where I can but I have to feel like things are ok enough for now.

I mean I’ve been so worried I’m not eating—I haven’t eaten yet today. I feel like it’s not ok to eat, because things aren’t set up right, things aren’t going well enough. Like I don’t deserve to eat. I want to get out of this rut of feeling and get to where I can just feel good about getting out of bed and making breakfast—because right now I feel too scared to.