Day three of Nano and I'm still writing. I'm not sure how this happened, maybe it's the meds for the jaw infection, maybe it's just time. But I'm writing... and coming back to write more. Without a panic attack. Without sweaty palms. Still a bit of a racing heart, but I think that's just the meds working in my system, so ignoring it.
I had the unfortunate realization yesterday that I'm actually depressed. Hiding it well, even from myself, but there it is. I should have known that the urge to drive to the old workplace to visit with my former employers was just because I needed human contact.
I really make the mistake of bonding with people too easily. Now that I never see these people anymore, I'm lonely and lost. And when I do see them, I think I'm coming off almost desperate and creepy like someone who's never had a friend before. Sorry, friends, I'm going through something and it's making me weird and antisocial and sometimes overly friendly and almost creepy. Can you forgive me?
I think part of this is my meds. But a lot of it is just loneliness creeping in. It's not like I live alone or lack for friends, but I've always had most of my real human contact in the workplace, especially since moving out here when most of my close friends are in different places, like back in Seattle.
So hopefully enough of my friends won't be skeeved out by my depression and tolerate my neediness for a bit. I just really need hugs and reassurance that I'm not gearing up to rush headlong into another disaster. And I'm really hoping to find that the people who cut me loose from my dream job aren't secretly hoping I go jump off a cliff and get out of their hair.
At least I'm not conspiring to infest their business with gerbils, like I wanted to the last time I had a shock-separation from a job. There's no bad blood here, I just miss my extended farm family.
So when I call or message that we should do something soon, I really mean it. But I'm going to need a little coaxing, because I'm close to crawling in my little box for the winter. And if I ask you to program my damn number in your phone so you're not wondering which weirdo is texting you, please do it. It's a little thing, but it makes a difference right now.
If I haven't called you back lately, bug me. Find me online or by text or whatever and bug me. I need it. And I'll try to come to your place and we can hang. And I'll try not to be too creepy or too maudlin or too anything else like the last time I went through a bad depression and drove most of my friends crazy, ended up making a shit ton of bad decisions and had to pick up all the pieces and start over again. I don't want to burn bridges, I just need to know that I still belong here.
And if I've told you, unexpectedly, that I love you lately, it's just a part of the whole depression. I just feel like I should let the people who've been there for me how much I value them. And I really hope it hasn't come across as creepy. Because I'm not running headlong into another disaster, I just give a shit about you and want you to know.