Back to Life, Back to Reality…

Two days ago, I sprained my back.  When I was loading some measly 16 quart bags of garden soil for this old woman, a bone in my spine popped.  For the rest of the day I was in excruciating pain.  Now I’m just in mildly annoying pain, unless I try to lift something, then I’m in excruciating pain again.  The terrible throbbing in my leg from two days ago is now just a constant dull ache.  So far, I think I’ll make a full recovery shortly.  And I better:  I have to start moving this week into the house with Angela and Sara.

Also?  I am limping horribly.  I am also on restricted duty at work.  That means no bending, stooping, squatting, reaching, and certainly no lifting.  In other words, I’m useless right now at work.  So they have me at the phones.  I’m utterly bored, and yet, we were swamped with customers today, all of whom glared at me with the same exact questions in their eyes, “can’t YOU help?!”

In response to their glares, I started doodling on the scratch paper stacked neatly next to the phone.

I was so utterly bored and helpless and understimulated at work today that I think I need to level up BabaRei again in order to satiate my brain this evening.  Then I’m going to attack that room of mine a little.  After all, my friends, I’m still moving!

On a completely unrelated note, I think I have a crush on my hairstylist.  Maybe it was the husky sound of her voice, or the way she ran her fingers through my hair and across my neck today in a way that was intriguingly sensual… who knows?

I also talked to Sara today, over the phone.  I apologized for my behavior Monday.  I was, on Monday, racked by extreme frustration, anger and guilt.  I was also extremely hormonally imbalanced.

Over the last week, I’ve been thinking about Monday and, well, all the events that have happened since I first met Sara.  The first time we hung out.  The first time we actually admitted we were attracted to each other.  The first time we kissed.  The first time we did more… and more.  And I realized something: this was just one giant fling.  One that is best forgotten.  After all, she has a boyfriend, and I’m just someone to pass the time with.  After all, she has been cheating on him all this time.  I’m the extra person.  I’m the third wheel.  I’m the one who needs to go.

But it’s over now.  I have to move past this, because I can’t keep living in this horrible state of in-between.  We will be friends, good friends.  I’m good friends with Liz now, and I used to be crazy for her, too.  It’s possible.  We’ll be friends, and nothing more unless she makes some really serious decision in the future, one she’ll never make.

And, you know, in a way Sara helped me make this most recent decision.  Over the weekend (though I didn’t notice it at first) she posted this music video to my Facebook:

Sums it all up beautifully.  :)

Now, off to Maple Story!

Pendulum Pills

I think my medication’s finally starting kick in, but not in the ways I would’ve expected.  This morning I was in a good mood utterly in spite of myself.  I was chipper, even.  I was singing along to the radio and grinning and completely not worried at all.  I arrived at work a few minutes early instead of a few minutes late, for once.  And all this is due to a little anti-anxiety pill?  Or was it the fact that I actually got some sleep yesterday?  Who knows?

Then, a few hours after I arrived at work: the melancholy came back again, expressed via sulky fatigue.  All day these feelings have been ebbing and flowing in quiet ways I think only I notice.  What’s with these new mood swings?  Were they always there and now I’m just happening to notice them because the element of constant anxiety’s been altered somewhat?  What gives?

I’m not sure if the pill’s effects are good or not, but the pill is most certainly doing SOMETHING to my brain chemistry.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

It’s strange, though: when I am happy, I’m still always conscious of the feeling of depression, always lingering in the background.  Similarly, when I’m depressed, there’s this stubborn feeling of… positive-ness… always lingering in the background as well, waiting patiently to make a grand return a few hours or days after the onset of melancholy.  I’m very much aware that one could not exist without the other, almost always aware except for only the most extreme of moments, when I’m feeling intensely desolate or euphoric in mood and can focus on very little else.

They are each other’s shadows; they are two ends of the same box with a pendulum constantly swinging from one to the other and back again.  That pendulum swings on its own accord, yes, but it can also be propelled into a greater arc of motion or have its rhythm disturbed easily by outside forces.  All it takes is a breath, just a breath, to influence these moods.  Such is my nature, I suppose.  I guess it’s all part of being a nerdy, artsy, creative individual in this crazy world.  I guess it just comes with the territory.

Yeah.