Monday morning

Over the weekend, in the middle of the freakout I have been experiencing, I also got bitten by the bug that's infected so many bloggers. I started to wonder why am I doing this and whether there is any value in the exercise of keeping a blog, especially lately when all I have been doing is moping.

I am well aware that, unless you suffer from the same kind of impairment, reading about someone's rotten mood gets tired real soon. I know there are people who used to visit me often and have now moved on to more chemically balanced bloggers. And I do not blame them. Most people who do not suffer from mood disorders feel sorry for those of us who do. And they can only take so much before they either get impatient with the sad person who can't get out of their mood, or just lose interest. I know I have little patience for people who seem stuck in a rut, even though often I am in the same situation.

I have said it before and I will say it again: when I write about my mood I am not looking for pity; I don't want it and I don't think I am deserving of it. I worry sometimes that people may read the blog and think that I am a complete emotional wreck. And yes, sometimes I am a wreck. I get very sensible and get angry or cry for the slightest reason. But most of the time, even when I feel emotionally on edge, I behave like a normal person. I go to my job and perform all my duties. I take care of my family. In fact, sometimes I feel this curse gives my life depth, but that may just be something I tell myself to see the value in everything.

Hurricane

Hurricane Humberto hit Texas this morning, according to this story by the Houston Chronicle. Up here we did not even get a drop of rain. The sky is gray this morning, though, so maybe it's in store for us later.

I am in a crappy mood this morning. My moods are starting to get all weird again. Last night, a small misunderstanding with Gabe caused me to freak out and start a sobfest. At night I had restless sleep and woke up a few times. My asthma flared up and I had to do a breathing treatment at 4:30 AM.

I woke up this morning with a feeling of dread, the all familiar stir at the pit of my stomach. I am going back to work after taking the day off yesterday to care for Isabel and I wonder what is in store for me, what messes do I have to clean up. I feel like a condemned prisoner walking towards the firing squad. I wish I could stay here and not have to go out at all.

When I started this blog one of my motivators was to chart my moods, in the hopes of seeing a trend in black and white, something that will help me understand better what is going on, beyond the "hormonal" label. If you look at the themes of my posts, you'll see that "Mood" has the most posts associated with it. I have been too lazy and have not done any kind of analysis of my mood trends, but perhaps it is time I do that.

It's one of those nights

I am in a funk. I can't shake it. Plans we had, things we wanted to do will not come to fruition, for reasons beyond our control. Oh, well.

Everybody is sleeping, but me. I sit and listen obsessively to the same song from this morning. At times it's only me and Ryan Adams' haunting melody.

Said maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
You're gonna be the one that saves me
You're gonna be the one that saves me

I am not writing my story tonight. I am caught up in the mood. There is nothing fabricated about this mood; this one is very real. I feel very lonely tonight. Invisible. Dislocated, like I have just been dropped from a plane into this strange place.

Where the hell am I? For a moment the house feels alien, cold. I long to go home, but I don't know where that is. Home is a place in my past, a place that is no longer.

I wipe away the tears and remind myself that I am home. My family is asleep in their bedrooms. I fight the urge to wake up Gabriel. I need some comfort, as I am truly crawling out of my skin right now. But he was exhausted, and he needs to get up early tomorrow. I'll just have to cry it out and get some sleep. Damn it! Why do I have to be so reasonable? Why do I have to be so emotional?

Sometimes I hate feeling everything so strongly. I have learned to keep this trait in check while I work and interact with the outside world, but once I am home it needs to be unleashed.

Well, my rambling is over. I am not looking for pity, please. I will be alright come tomorrow, I always am. I just wanted to chart my mood tonight.

Wednesday

Feeling better in terms of my asthma. I am regularly doing the breathing treatments my allergist prescribed. I am also suspecting that heartburn and its effects are the biggest challenge I have.

Not feeling so good in terms of mood. I was in a positive, hopeful mood on Monday. Tuesday was an OK day, spent working from home. The best way to describe my mood this morning is to say I feel as if someone had rubbed a balloon all over me, quite jumpy.

Tuesday afternoon

I don't feel like saying much today. I am in a graphic mood rather than a writing mood, but my webcam is not working so I can't post goofy pictures of myself.

I toyed with the idea of changing the blog background yet again, but settled for posting a video clip that caught my fancy. It was shown at a face-to-face meeting our group had last week.

... and as easy as it comes, it goes.

Imagine you are a snowglobe. Now imagine someone grabs you and gives you a soft shake. All of a sudden thoughts and feelings shoot off in different directions, and you are unable to tell where they are going or to rein them in.

Imagine you are forced to walk all day wearing a veil over your face, completeley covered, so that your perception of the world is skewed by the gauzy material covering your eyes.

Yesterday I was in great spirits. This morning I was OK until I experienced the first stirrings of a dark mood coming. I am not in a dark mood yet, mind you. But it was strange, to be able to pinpoint the precise moment when a feeling of dread or uncertainty clouds your mind, unexpectedly and momentarily. It happened at 9:13 AM, and now I feel as if I have gotten out of the ocean. I am waiting to dry out, with the salt sticking to my skin.

I am still OK. I am not despairing just yet. This is just an attempt at recording this morning's occurrence in the best way I can express it. I keep a separate log of the physical symptoms and the hormonal cycle. I am reporting the emotional manifestations here.

Better mood

It was nice going to the park and meeting with Gabe and his coworkers. I had a blast and my mood improved considerably.

Blah (Mood series)

The swing is gone. For now. This music better matches my mood this morning. For the record, it's Nirvana's "Something in the way".

Am I spending too much time on the Internet?

There was drama on my mommy board yesterday. A debate thread on the topic of adoption devolved into nasty name calling and cursing. One of the people involved took offense to someone's opinion. An opinion that may have been stated in better terms than she did, but a general opinion nevertheless, not directed to anyone in particular. The person who got offended is in a sensitive situation right now, because of fertility issues, and her reaction was completely out of proportion. Which is usually a sign that a lot more was going on in her head/heart than what the debate was about. Like someone said to me, it was literally like watching someone have a complete breakdown, post by post.

This whole thing is very unfortunate, and it comes on the heels of another incident between members that happened recently. Our board was founded on the premise that we were all responsible adults who could monitor ourselves, so we are very flexible and don't have strict rules. I feel like this incident has laid bare one of the weak points of that approach. To me the board should be a safe haven for all of us, and yesterday's incident is making me feel skeptical about the longevity of our current group. People are leaving, or taking breaks. Feelings are hurt. Everybody is asking "how do we move on?" I wish I knew, but this morning, right now, I am not very optimistic about the whole thing.

And frankly, I am angry. Angry that our board was highjacked by such ugliness. I don't care what are the reasons why people blew up the way they did. I think after a certain point, people need to wash their dirty laundry through more private methods (private messages, e-mail, phone calls) rather than exposing the complete group to it and threaten the stability of the board. That's my opinion and I am sticking to it!

Monday mood

I was rather down this morning, for no particular reason other than the ostensible "it's Monday."

Despite the mood, I got dressed and went to work. The day went by fine, a little slow at times.

I am home now, exhausted. Paula is in volleyball practice. Isabel is walking around with her teddy bear. Gabe is as exhausted as I am. Just another day.

The Great Automatic Procrastinator

That's me. Put off, put off, put off things until the water is up to my neck.

I have been stressed the last few days. I am in a learning curve at work right now, and I am always nervous when I am thrown out of my comfort zone. When I am not quite sure how to do something, I just put it off, hoping it will either magically get it done or it disappears. That is never the case, so I always end up in a rush to the finish.

With the stress comes a breakdown in my mood. I have been doing so well. I have been so even keeled it has surprised even me. I was crediting my life changes for that. Now it's obvious my life has not changed that much. A lack of stress was driving the improved mood. Now the pressure is on again, and I am starting to crack.

I don't like the implications of this line of thinking.

Disrupted mood weekend

Saturday was a very strange day for me.  Something was seriously off with my mood.  It's hard trying to recall it, as most of it feels like a distant memory already.  I remember going to the supermarket quite late, almost at closing time, and losing track of that.  I remember crying while I was there.  I can't recall why I cried.  Something stupid, probably.  Sometimes it takes very little to tip the glass over.

Often, the price I pay for being a highly functioning professional is that I am depleted during the weekend.

It's Friday. What is my mood?

Has it ever happened to you that you wake up one morning and you don't quite know how you feel? I am at a crossroads today. I feel like the day could go either way: happy happy joy joy, or down in the dumps. Anxiety is lurking somewhere, waiting to be unleashed.

On the one hand, I am happy it's Friday. I have a long weekend ahead of me. But I think I will be busier than ever. As always, I put things off until the last minute. Last weekend I cleaned and dealt with piles of laundry, but most of the housecleaning is still pending. And Paula's party is tomorrow. I have been so tired during the week that I have not done much to improve that.

Also, I need to figure out what to do during Paula's party, if I need to come up with games or buy stuff to amuse the girls invited. Thankfully, the cake is being taken care of by the mom of one of Paula's friends, who makes custom cakes for a living. She is making a meerkat-themed cake for Paula.

And then there is work. So much to do! Many deliverables, many conference calls to schedule, many discussions to be had. Next week is going to be killer! My boss and several other people need me to prepare charts, slides, projections, provide answers. I have only been here for a little over a month and I felt like, other than my period in the hospital, I have hit the ground running. This is definitely a higher stakes job than my previous one. I only hope I am performing up to speed. My boss seems to be happy with me, and he has commended me a few times, but I need to keep on my toes.

So I guess my mood is anxious. But hopefully it will get better once I start accomplishing things.

Clutter

Ugh. I feel like my life is full of clutter.

My house is clutter central. I don't enjoy having so much crap lying around. Really. I have dreams of living in a minimalist environment. But there is all this... stuff. All over my house. Out of place. Books, toys toys and more toys, shoes, an overload of papers (letters, daycare daily reports, piles of school papers, catalogs, magazines, receipts, bills, important papers). Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have never been a housecleaning enthusiast (well, that's an understatement). I get easily overwhelmed, I don't know how or where to start, I am usually feeling too tired after work, I get discouraged easily, only looming deadlines move me to action, yada yada yada. Last time I cleaned in full force it was for Paula's birthday party. I was wiped out after that. I need to do some intensive cleaning this Sunday. I am dreading it already.

My mood today is unspecified anxious. I am not sure why. On the mommy board front, it seems like things are starting to get resolved. It's not over yet, but it looks like we are heading in the right direction. So my mood is not tied to the mommy board affair. For the first time in days I am not upset or bothered by that. Why the general feeling of dread, then? Not sure. Maybe it's biological reasons. Maybe it's work. There are deliverables that I wished we could have finished yesterday, but we could not. We have been pretty tight on money too, so it might be that too. Gabe was waiting on several clients to pay him, and I had to dip into my close to non-existent savings to pay two weeks of daycare. He finally got paid yesterday, so I may get my emergency fund back to normal levels.

Paula leaves for Puerto Rico Thursday of next week. I have to start getting her suitcase ready.

Recommencing

Your sense of hearing can be the strongest altered mood trigger. Listening to music, specifically.

Unplugged versions of messed up punk rock songs can be quite effective plunging one into a crying fit. If it's got a piano and a violin in it, if the lyrics hint at mental illness, if the singer has a plaintive voice, I am screwed.

This is what I choose to write about after a long sojourn in the non-blogging world. Middle-aged female depression. I couldn't help it. I happened to catch the tune as I was re-watching an episode of my favorite dystopian TV show today. It made me tear up.

Not true. I have been listening to it for days. This mood has been brewing. I downloaded four different versions of it, all covers. The original just never did it for me. I even made a playlist for my iPod click wheel. Wow, does that sound retro or what?

The rate at which things evolve, change, become obsolete is increasing exponentially right as I march inexorably into an age where it takes longer to find my bearings. Make no mistake, though, I always find them. I have so far escaped every culling unscathed. But as I see the world I know change to the point of discomfort, as a new generation takes over, all of a sudden I find myself in a mentor position, a walking encyclopedia, a benevolent veteran. I'm not sure I want to accept this role I am being cast for.

This is what I choose to write about after a long hiatus. Me, myself and I. Depression is selfish by force. When you are trapped in your own mind it is difficult to step outside the navel-gazing.

There is so much more I could be writing about. The economy of my native island is falling apart, thousands of my compatriots are leaving the place every month, jumping the puddle into the mainland, looking for jobs and the dream of a better life. Texas, my adopted land, is becoming a popular destination, growing at a faster rate than the top two favorite destinations of the diaspora. Of course, when your volumes are small to begin with, growth rates can look impressive, but we got nothing on Florida or New York yet.

If you happen to stumble upon this blog because you googled boricua in texas, I am sorry that I am not more informative. Or relevant. Search the many groups on Facebook that have sprung up to facilitate a sense of community in this state. It is a big state. Get ready to do a hell of a lot of driving.

I am not THE Boricua in Texas. I am just one of many.

Sometimes I dream of going back, when I'm old, when the kids are grown. I think all of us do at one time or another. Nostalgia is a powerful trap. If I go back I will feel out of place. My slang is hopelessly outdated; I have no clue what a yal is. People were not being propped against the wall, dressed up as boxers, or staged at the domino table for their wakes when I lived on the island. There was no tren urbano. Filiberto had not been killed yet. A woman had never been governor.

I have been here for quite a long time. The experience of living here has changed me. Being a single mom, getting married again, having another child, all that life lived has changed me. My job trajectory has certainly changed me, in ways that surprise me sometimes. I used to love a clever turn of phrase; but living in the land of elevator pitches and corporate buzzwords, I often grow impatient with languid prose.

I would have changed just as much if I was still on the island. Make no mistake. But I would have become a different person than who I am now. We like to think we are a singular consciousness drifting through life, but this is an illusion. We all change, every single day, no matter where we are. However, on the island I would have had the fantasy of a continuity of self, a shared national experience with my fellow boricuas.

So I choose to maintain a tenuous connection to my past life by filling my Facebook friends roster with high school classmates; even the mean girl who spread rumors about me having lice in middle school is my Facebook friend. But these people don't know anything about me. How could they? It has been so long since we were classmates. Many of them have also left the island, and may have nostalgia issues of their own to deal with. And that's OK. We are all trying to come to grips with our evolving lives. Sometimes all it takes to find our bearings is to write.

"Fiction" Friday

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for January 4, 2008:

What is the first New Year’s Resolution your character breaks? How soon? Why?


It has been a long time since she has made New Year's resolutions. Why bother? She never keeps them anyway. Something puts her off; something about the obligatory nature of it, maybe the fact that everybody is somehow expected to want to be a better, richer, thinner, more spiritual, creative and active person in the new year. What is wrong with who we are? Why embark on this artificial quest for a new and improved version of ourselves? No, she will not make any trumpeted resolutions this year either.

She starts the year in a reflective mood. This year she is focused on the house. Like everybody else, she has plans for the new year. Most of the plans center on her house; there are things yet to be done as a continuation of the home improvement project started the prior year. The new floors are down, the closet system is in place. The year-end bonus came and went, spent on new furniture that has yet to arrive. A lot of their things are still in storage, and the paint job is not finished. There are boxes of books everywhere, but she can't get to them because the boxes are taped shut. She misses her books. They are so close to her, and yet unavailable.

She needs to get the rooms painted, return the bookcases and books to her library/home office. These are her plans for the new year. No resolutions, just things that need to be done. And yet, she would be lying if she said that she did not briefly entertain the thought of joining the throngs of people that take the yearly pledge to exercise more and eat less. But as she swallows a spoonful of Nutella, she is all too aware that she does not want to treat the first days of the new year as a boot camp or religious retreat, full of rules and deprivation.

Day 3, in which I am pissed off at Sprint

I am in a much better mood this morning. Sometimes, when I get frustrated with something, I assume a gloom-and-doom view of life. I think that was the case yesterday.

My frustration today is not directed at my life, or my husband, or my kids. It is rather directed at my stupid cell phone company, Sprint. I just got hit with a $200 early termination fee for a phone line that I did not terminate. My daughter Paula lost her purse, with the cell phone in it. As a protection, I called Sprint last week to request that a block be put on her phone. How did that translate into a cancellation of the extra line we have in our account is beyond me.

Because I have my payments set up to come automatically out of my bank account, they hit me with the incorrect charge before I even had time to review my bill. And when I called them to get it fixed, I had to talk to 3 different people without the issue coming to a full resolution. As it stands, the account services people requested a credit and placed a request for their finance dept. to process the refund quickly, but I have absolutely no confirmation that they will, and it takes 24 to 72 hours before the finance people get back to me.

Customers should not be made to suffer because of how a company is organized internally. The three people I spoke to at customer service all put me on hold for several minutes while they found out how to deal with the matter or searched for the next person to transfer me to. They did not even know that I had already been hit with the charge in my bank account.

It is not unreasonable to expect to deal with just one person, who has access to my full history (including payment history) and is empowered enough to request a refund and confirm to me when I will get it. Why can't Sprint get it? I have been a customer for a long time, for the sole reason that Puerto Rico was part of their network before other carriers. But AT&T and Verizon offer coverage now, so that is no longer a reason. And I have been very dissatisfied with Sprint's coverage and customer service for a long time, so there is no love lost there.

This is not the first time I get hit with an early termination fee for a line I have not cancelled. Earlier this year I got new phones shipped to me, and one of them was not what I requested. They sent a replacement and when I sent back the first phone, they cancelled my husband's phone (which was not tied to the returned phone) and hit me with an early termination fee. WTF? Are their systems really that obtuse, or do they just employ a bunch of yahoos who don't know what the hell they are doing?

I will wait until my contract expires, and then I am changing providers. After eight years as a customer, I am officially sick and tired of Sprint.

Synchronicity

I am having a Wolfgang moment, as in music has a way of speaking to me at the precise time I need it.

While I was still under the influence of the I am a loser mood manifestation that inspired the previous post, I started playing the Orishas music I previously mentioned. One of the songs is called "Conexión" and it has a great line that spoke to me in such a great in-your-face way:

El destino esta marcado nadie lo puede cambiar
Pero ten siempre presente tu esfuerzo no esta de más
Lo que no sirve de nada sácalo ya de tu mente
A veces vale nadar en contra de la corriente

I am not an expert translator, so I could not reproduce the sense of rythym, but the lyrics could be translated as follows:

Destiny is fixed no one can change it
But always keep in mind that your efforts are not in vain
Get out of your mind that which is useless
Sometimes it's necessary to swim against the current

Well, it's quite late. If I don't try to go to bed I will never sleep.

Ramble

My heart is not the only one that is racing. I feel so weird. My mood meter is quite fluctuant this morning. I have been sad, I have been angry, I have been calm, I have been anxious. I want to do something, but I don't know what. I wish to go to the pool, but I find myself unable to get going, as if putting on Isabel's swimsuit and getting myself ready is a monumental task that I can't bring myself to perform. I am veritably scattered this morning.

The Walk

This is somehow appropriate, based on my mood today.


The Walk, by Imogen Heap

Inside-out, upside-down,
Twisting beside myself.
Stop that now,
'Cause you and I were never meant to be.
I think you'd better leave.
It's not safe in here.
I feel a weakness coming on.

Alright then, (alright then.)
I could keep your number for a rainy day.
That's where this ends.
No mistakes no misbehaving.
I was doing so well.
Could we just be friends?
I feel a weakness coming on.


It's not meant to be like this.
Not what I planned at all.
I don't want to feel like this.
Yeah.
No it's not meant to be like this.
Not what I planned at all.
I don't want to feel like this.
So that makes it all your fault.

Inside-out, upside-down,
Twisting beside myself.
Stop that now.
You're as close as it gets
Without touching me.
Oh now don't make it harder
Than it already is.
I feel a weakness coming on.

It's not meant to be like this.
Not what I planned at all.
I don't want to feel like this.
Yeah.
No it's not meant to be like this.
Not what I planned at all.
I don't want to feel like this.
So that makes it all your fault.


Big trouble losing control.
Primary resistance at a critical low.
on the double gotta get a hold.
Point of no return one second to go.


No response on any level,
Red-alert this vessel's under seige.
Total overload all systems down they've got control.
There's no way out.
We are surrounded.
Give in, give in and relish every minute of it.

Freeze, awake here forever.
I feel a weakness coming on.

It’s not meant to be like this,
Not what I planned at all.
I don’t want to feel like this.
Yeah.
No it’s not meant to be like this,
It's just what I don't need.
Why make me feel like this?
It's definitely all your fault.

Feel like this la la la la la la la la
It’s all your fault (feel like this) la la la la la la la la
It’s all your fault (feel like this) la la la la la la la la
It’s all your fault (feel like this) la la la la la la la la
It’s all your fault.

Election Day

Nothing like a cheesy 80's video to set the right mood for today's activities.