But how are you REALLY feeling?
So, time has passed and I finally have internet in my new place. I never really saw myself as the kind of person who was entirely reliant on internet access but when your entire being is revolving around being able to vent into the void in the form of shitty, long form internet posts, life gets a little harder. I only found (Or refound. Or rather was pushed in this direction by Anna’s subtle reminder of “Hey, you used to like doing this”) using the internet to place all my thoughts recently and not having that for a couple of days made me feel profoundly lost. To the point where I’ve opened this post about 4 times through out the day and just stared at a blank page. Apparently it’s that easy for me to lose connection with something that’s almost a necessity to me. That’s kind of scary.
It’s passed midnight at the moment and here I am wide awake and blogging. It’d be an understatement to say I have a bad sleep schedule but there it sits in the tags. I work shifts a lot. I flit between nights and days which makes sleeping a kind of foe that I’m constantly having to schedule battles with. People who work real jobs, as in jobs with a schedule, must have such a different life than me. The idea of having a bed time seems strange. I kind of just sleep when I can. I got home at 8am, slept until 4pm. Woke up to let the internet people in, did mostly nothing but stare and then went back to bed about 7pm. Here I am past midnight finally actually feeling awake and wouldn’t you know it, I have to be getting ready for work in about 5 hours. So I’m thinking about when exactly I need to sleep so I can be productive tomorrow.
Being in a new home is strange. I don’t know if I’ve touched on this here or not, it all kind of blurs together but there’s a strange feeling of “I don’t deserve this.” Let me be clear, my new house is nice. The kind of place I can bring my Nan and she says “Oh wow this is lovely!” with an actual smile on her face instead of the kind of resigned forced optimism she showed when she saw my last place. There’s a part of me that is really struggling to accept that. Should that be a thing? I’ve lived most of my life in places of squalor, not including the house I grew up in or that brief year and a half (Ish) where I lived in a really nice apartment (Also had a really thorough mental breakdown there so it’s a little tough to think of it as a good time in my life.)
I wish I could say that was the problem. Last time I lived in such a nice place I was really struggling mentally so there! I just have bad associations with nice living environments! But I don’t think that’s it. I haven’t even really had time to adjust to this place. I keep having little moments of “Wow, this is my home and it looks kind of pretty!” but it’s a little disjointed. All the time I’ve spent here I’ve either been moving in, sleeping, waiting for a night shift or post night shift. (If you’ve never worked a night shift before let me tell you, there’s a weariness to it that generally everyone I speak to agrees that the day after is just a write off day. You are not getting anything done on the day after a night shift. You’re just sleeping and then being awake for a couple of hours wishing you were sleeping before trotting off to bed to get some much needed sleep.)
I mentioned something to Anna that I should probably get off my chest here. Just for clarities sake, (Again, I’m basically the only person who will ever read this, do I really need clarity) Anna is the friend I go to when I’m having either mental health problems or need to just kind of ramble about something but I don’t have access to this blog. I’m a creature of habit. Not like in the way where I’ll go to the same place to get coffee (But yes definitely that) but also in the way that I find myself needing to go through the same motions every day in familiar situations. I don’t even think this is abnormal. I think it’s just weird to think about. Every day I go to work I’ll write up the exact same list of everything I need to do that day and times they need to be done just to make sure I don’t forget. There’s twelve items on the list for nights and days respectively, slightly changing based on which. in days you have 5 personal care, 5 documentation, 2 extra. Nights are 3 personal care, 7 documentation and 2 extra. If you’re thinking what the extra could possibly be, they could actually fall into either of the other two categories but I came up with them at a later date than the original list of 10 so they have to be in their own special space. That’s just the only way I can remember it.
Now I’ve been doing this job for 6 years and before that I was training to do the job for a further 3. That’s almost a decade of experience in the NHS yet here I am with my list. I could and probably would be able to do my job without the list. But it’s a mental latch if you will. It’s something I need to be present because if it isn’t the trap door of anxiety and panic will just fall open and I won’t be able to operate. The only other mental latch I can think of is my amulet. It’s a good luck charm of sorts and without getting bogged down in the detail, I found it buried about 20 years ago, have worn it ever since and got the symbols of it tattoo’d on me as a fail safe, just in case there’s a reason I can’t be wearing it one day. Never really put much thought into this but it is a weird realisation to think I see these symbols from the amulet as some kind of divine protection. They tie me to my luck and I’m VERY serious about luck. I’m letting myself get derailed. I said I wouldn’t do that.
Mental latches. The things I need to do to keep the anxiety and panic trap doors firmly shuttered. Do other people need such routines to stop themselves from falling into a panic spiral? I’ve only ever thought I’ve lost my amulet a handul of times and I can’t even describe the sheer panic and fear that enveloped me during those moments.
So the reason I mention all this (Let’s get back to the damn point Josh.) is that I’m a creature of habit. So moving has been very difficult. It has stressed me more than I can say and not for any particular reason. For instance my current worry is that I don’t know where to get the right cat food and litter. That’s it. But I can’t stop thinking about it. It will be forever in the back of my mind, eating at me until I find an appropriate alterntative.
I’ve already got my timings for the day sorted out. Work days at least. I need to leave at 6:10 am or pm to make it to my shift. There’s about a ten minute grace period to this where if I can still make work if I set off late but I can’t rely on that. I don’t know why. I could just set off at 6:20 and still make work but that isn’t an option. I think the trouble is I know that if I set my time for 6:20, there will be days where I won’t set off until 6:30 and I can’t bare the idea of that. Because it will become a pattern and then I’ll always be late. I had a lot more to add on to that but I think it’s all just catastrophising so let’s not.
Alright this is already too long so let’s leave off here and start a new blog post after a smoke or two. Yep, I’m still smoking. More on that in a second. Why is it so important to me to make these thought posts digestible and not too long? I suppose it’s a courtesy to future me’s attention span.