Friday, May 30, 2008

beyond the DSM

Finally! My reader wrote to me and requested the address to my blog, so I might be certain that I am not writing only for myself! I felt depressed knowing that no one would even read at all and so I stopped writing. How long has it been? Hmm that full moon day (May 19th) started off nicely, but it ended with extreme nausea and for no apparent reason. Perhaps somebody who hates me put a curse on me? In the middle of the night, I woke up to pee and while sitting on the toilet I began to violently wretch, and I directed it into the shower. Then I felt better and then I smoked weed and had some very scary and sad thoughts but I went back to sleep. In the morning, I claimed to feel better but I vomited my coffee (into a garbage can). Then, on our commute, I passed out at Jay St./Borough Hall! Michelle had to ride the train back home with me and put me to bed. The police officer wouldn't let me ride the train alone and we couldn't get a cab. I was very sick. I slept for the next couple days and I think the whole thing made me lose a bit of weight. I look the same to myself but the scale says it is so.

The main thing I have been doing today is reading about NPD. I was already familiar enough with the diagnostic criteria to be sure that I do not fit that diagnosis. For one thing, I am extremely empathic, even to the point of empathizing in uncomfortable ways with strangers and inanimate objects. Additionally, I have a rich inner life and enjoy sharing it with others, for instance, what I dreamed or various memories as they arise.

Two nights ago I had a series of little dreams that were somewhat disturbing. I was trying to smoke crack and weed at the same time out of my one hitter while hiding it from my ex girlfriend and ex friend G. I was also taking pictures of her and the colors were pretty. There was a bluish hue but it was clearly her face. In another part of the dream I was trying to cut my hair. There were long pieces and no matter how hard I hacked at them with scissors, they would not cut.

(I think I dreamed about crack because we watched this documentary on Skid Row before falling asleep and there was a lot of crack smoking in it. There was one scene of explicitly shooting heroin so I covered my baby's eyes for that while fast forwarding it).

We have been doing much better in terms of being close and holding down a peaceful fort.

Sometimes I have this sense of not having any true self and I don't really like it. Am I simply a combination of everyone I've ever cathected? I feel like my essence is changeability. Yikes, it's scary! This is why I was reading about NPD. Maybe this feeling I have, of being insubstantial, is related to my narcissism? My therapist says that I'm not a narcissist but that I have a narcissistic injury incurred during early childhood, most likely. This is an injury that is healing. However, I resonate strongly with the following NPD characteristics: amorality/lack of conscience, authoritarian, contemptuous, critical of others, cruel, don't recognize own feelings, envious and competitive, flirtatious or seductive, grandiose, hyper-sensitive to criticism, impulsive, pessimistic, religious, self-contradictory, stingy, strange work habits, and a weird sense of time. The fact that I can recognize these characteristics demonstrates that I'm not a narcissist. And whatever characteristics I have can be improved and modified.

The scary feeling goes away the most thoroughly when I have physical closeness with Mishy- Not just cuddling, although cuddling is like water, it's a necessity. I also forget about the feeling if I have a good conversation with someone. Writing and communicating on the internet makes it worse, but there is something exciting about that too. Honestly, there is something I even like about narcissism. I guess that makes sense in a sick way - of course the narcissist likes her own narcissism. She created it. On the other hand, it's not as much fun as having a connection with someone, like a real moment of being present with them.

I would actually like to spend the weekend getting inebriated, dancing, perhaps having a little fight with someone weaker than myself, going a little crazy, and to the point where I barely remember what happened. However, I have a sense of love and responsibility for my wife, if not for myself, and we have to have a sober home.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Did someone put a curse on me?

On Monday evening I began to feel nauseated. I could barely eat the special dinner Michelle had prepared for me. I forced it down, to be polite. In the middle of the night I woke up and wretched violently. I spent the majority of the night awake. I tried to smoke pot to calm my stomach, but it gave me scary thoughts. In the morning, I tried to go to work. At Jay Street we transfer to the A train, but I took a couple steps onto the platform and crumpled to the floor. The next 15 minutes are a blur. A black lady asking if I was okay - a police officer telling me to try taking a couple steps - somehow getting upstairs - Michelle pouring water on me. She had to take me back home. I didn't even think I could ride the train home by myself without passing out again. I spent the day in bed. The next day I tried to go to work again and I had two doctors appointments. I couldn't stop crying, on the train, in the doctors' offices, in the bathrooms. I got another cortisone shot in my foot. Afterwards, I was exhausted and nauseated so I went home and slept most of the rest of the afternoon. Again, I tried to smoke. Again, I was filled with the scariest, saddest thoughts on earth. I cried the afternoon away. I can't think about the world as it is. Depression is just facing reality. The truth is, you can't. No one can face it and continue to function. We have to be in some denial even if that denial is hope. Truthfully, this world makes no sense. Billions of people covering the earth, consuming it, destroying it, hurting and destroying each other, exploitation and using things up, throwing things away, all for no purpose. Everyone suffers and dies. The lucky ones are loved and love in return. All the same, what's the point? Where is it going? All these years since the beginning of time, if one exists, rushing forward, each conscious mind and life destined to be forgotten and turn into... nothing? If only I could believe in a God. Even just a God to listen to me. But there's no one. I love my wife. I wish she was totally clean and sober, and I pray for that. She prays for that. Why should she suffer so much? If only she deserved it. If only all the people who suffer deserved it, but they don't. They just suffer and die. I want to escape this. I want to be in a group. I want to live on the land, in the forests and farms, surrounded by family and people who love each other... I want the world to stop being destroyed, or I want it to happen NOW ONCE AND FOR ALL. I don't like painful things that drag out. I love animals so much. The idea of extinction and the way these beautiful animals are suffering and disappearing because of humanity... I hate it! I can't do anything about it. I'm just another producing, consuming American, contributing to landfills and too lazy and depressed to make any real difference. If making a difference is even a worthy goal. Why not just observe and see how it all pans out? What kind of teacher would I make? I'm scared of everything. Scared to be in charge, to tell anyone what to do, to be responsible. I don't believe in myself. I'm not like other people who become teachers, they all seem cocky and to love being in charge and in control. I don't want control in this instance. I don't know what I want. I spent last night waking up intermittently with gas cramps and dry diarrhea, meaning nothing coming out but air and a tiny amount of liquid. I haven't eaten in 72 hours, besides some yogurt and a couple other small snacks. How can everyone continue their routines? Don't they see the pointlessness of it all? The devil runs this world. It's been proven too many times. There's no way to redeem all the wrong. Today I am faithless.

Monday, May 19, 2008

full moon in may

Starting my period the day before the night of a full moon, you would think I’d be insane right now. However, I feel happier, more peaceful and calm than I have in a long time! This morning I felt so sweet in bed with Mishy, drinking coffee, smokin’ a cig and petting Tatiana. The room was bright and warm. Michelle wasn’t getting up, she has the day off, but she had her hand on my tummy. I keep saying to myself, “my parents came to visit me.” They left Sunday around noon. The weekend was amazing, and I think that’s why I feel so decent. My parents were sweet and interested in everything I said and showed them. We went to Coney Island on Saturday. We walked on the shore. We took pictures. In the evening, Michelle joined us for dinner at a restaurant near my apartment. Then I played scrabble with my parents, and Mishy rested. She took too much medication and was dopey, which was stressful, but I have communicated my reaction and let it go. Her damage control let me know she really does care how I feel and what my parents think. On Sunday, my parents left, we rested, and then we went to a movie- A stupid one, about this ugly guy who, for some reason, is able to interest two gorgeous girls in Hawaii, including his ex. But we weren’t really watching the movie toward the end. So, I started remembering things after my parents left, having memories of living with my family, laughing, eating, travelling, doing chores, and playing with my sisters. Why haven’t I remembered these things for so long? I totally left home and changed my whole life and self just to be able to become gay. I could not break that rule in the context of home. But, no wonder I have felt so alone. I wasn’t even allowed to think about or miss the people I loved. I’m thinking about it now though, and it feels good. It feels like things are connected, and less like I’m an actress who has no real life.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Acute Viral Hep, Detachment, and Lasagna

My parents are coming to visit tonight. As I mentioned, they haven't come to visit me in many years! I'm pretty nervous about it, but I'm trying to relax. It's a small apartment, and I'm wondering how I will entertain since my Coney Island plan has been revised due to a shitty fucking weather forecast. When I get home from work I plan to go grocery shopping and then make a pan of lasagna.

I wrote several more pages on my paper, and I felt inspired, and I also felt my anxiety from the previous evening melt into sadness and I cried off and on throughout the day. Unfortunately, Mishy is still sick, and it seems to be a viral illness. For 48 hours she suffered deadly gas and explosive diarrhea. I actually had to sleep on the couch because the gas continued in her sleep and the room was a poisonous den of fumes. I did some research and noted that all her symptoms match with Viral Hep A. Do you know what that is??

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

shady incidents

Late Saturday night, a man accosted Michelle on Smith and 9th. He accused her of being police, insisted there was a secret camera in her glasses, and bent them. I think this is a strange story. I was home during this time and we had just returned from White Plains. Michelle went to see if Duane Reade was open and then if the bagel store was open. Both were closed. My personal theory is that MK copped for drugs and the supposed dealer didn't trust her. But she wouldn't admit that to me. Ever since she got her new therapist, who is an addiction specialist, I don't push too hard on these little secrets. She can tell everything to her therapist. It's a great relief for me, no longer trying to spy, control, and parent her. In any case, the glasses were bent.

On Sunday evening we went for a dinner date at Bar Tano, our "spot" since it opened recently on our street and has outdoor seating. Right before dinner, she got a piece of dirt in her eye. This made her unable to look at me with both eyes throughout dinner and it seemed very uncomfortable and painful for her. After dinner, we took a walk. On the walk, her glasses fell off her face. I was looking at my cell phone and I stepped on them... crunch. That was an unhappy sound! I bought crazy-glue and put them back together, but I accidently smeared glue on the lens, so they were not as good as new. Then Michelle finally came down with the flu/virus that has been hanging on to me for over a month. This, and she also had her first herpes outbreak. I gave it to her. This is only the cold sore kind, but it seems to really upset people when they found out I have it or they might have it. To me, it's not that big of a deal. It's annoying and gross to get cold sores, and I do feel bad for Michelle, but she pointed out that I seemed somewhat happy about it.

As of yesterday, Tuesday, Michelle got a lovely pair of new Lacoste glasses. Unfortunately however, she says the dirt is still in her eye.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Analyzing reality versus feeling it

I want to write a brief but thorough update on my life as I feel overwhelmed by the changes and events that have transpired as of late. Writing a list rather than in paragraphs eases the pressure of that task, so without further ado...

1) My foot is not "all better," as I conveyed to you after receiving the cortisone shot. It remains painful and uncomfortable. This means I will most likely need foot surgery. I am actually looking forward to surgery, as it has become my only hope for relief.

2) Technically, Michelle and I are not married anymore, for now. We are girlfriends. This is because I basically threatened to break up with her again, if she didn't get help and make some significant changes. I told her I was becoming unhappy in the relationship. You can't say this if you're married. I kind of think you can, actually, but in her mind, breaking up is not an option and should not be suggested. We had long talks about this. For some reason, I became extremely stubborn about my main point, which is that behavior that damages a relationship is as much a violation of wedding vows as is an explicit threat to end the relationship. The sad thing is, I did not intend to threaten her and it really hurt her. I explicitly planned to NOT threaten her because it would be the second time and I don't want to "cry wolf." In hindsight, according to her, I did this because I wished to hurt her (because her behavior hurt/stressed/angered me). Realizing the truth in this, I fear myself. It seems that even when I think I'm being fair and rational, there is another part of me that handles all questions of pain and justice. That "other" part is merciless and executes each plan according to an almost unfeeling code of ethics. In a way, I'm grateful. I actually just told Michelle the truth about me, which is that I will suffer for a long time, take the responsibility, take care of the other, allow myself to be disrespected and neglected up until a certain, crucial point. At that point, I become detached and I walk away. I didn't and don't want that to happen with Michelle! That is why I told her - don't let this happen - don't make me leave you - I think you are sabotaging the relationship. The cold part of my personality has saved me many times, which is why it is strong. But I don't want to be pushed to that because I have so much love to give. My little lady is so cute and sweet in the mornings- with her soft, brown curls, the face of a sleepy wolf, the tiny body curled under the sheets, her slightly sour vegetable breath mixed with sleepy, baby smells. Michelle is everything to me; she is my link to sanity. Why do I find sanity through someone who is clearly insane? Sanity and reality have to do with owning your experience and seeing it reflected in other people. However, Michelle and I are not exactly the same. Someone who is more like me would be problematic as a partner. I need more power than the other person.

3.) The somatization of anxiety is obviously behind my pathetic immune system. I keep getting sick and cannot recover. I have a stomachache that only rarely goes away and I have been having 10-12 bowel movements per day, on average.

4.) Lately I have no belief in any sort of god whatsoever. I see is that the world is ruled by evil, always has been and always will be. In some ways reading about colonization, slavery, lynching, treatment of "immigrants," patriarchy, capitalism, religious hypocrisy - all this fucking shit - inspires me to try to change the world. In another way, it makes me want to give up.

5.) I love my cat.

6.) My parents are coming to visit me. They haven't come here in over seven years or so. I'm nervous, but excited, I guess.

7.) I have a paper to write. I have to state my educational philosophy in terms of specific theoretical pedagogies and back it up with articles and/or personal experience. This paper is important to me, so I will be anxious until it's well underway. Then the semester is over. I didn't even think I could motivate myself enough to APPLY to graduate school, and here I am, one significant step closer to my dream. My dream is to save people and save myself.