Takes a lot of sentimental valiums… It isnt very smart tends to make one part so broken-hearted. Im just a little bit heiress, a little bit Irish, a little bit tower of Pisa whenever I see you - so please be kind if Im a mess.

 Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk (Reprise) – Rufus Wainwright

March 2013       

It has been snowing now for days.  There are no clouds in the bright blue sky and the sun is finally shining, but yet it persists from somewhere.  Driving feels like ploughing through a light swarm of moths, or tiny fairies.  Mercilessly mowing them down.  

It is bitterly cold for March.  The men in the office compare it to the springs of the 60's and pull down the blinds blocking her view of the crisp clear-blue sanity and severing the strings tethering her sky.  Wait - switch sanity and sky?

She's losing her grip.

Even the birds had cackled at her darkly as she battled the freezing wind; inelegant and stiff as the flakes of pure snow twirl and pirouette.

You're being ridiculous.

She does not feel like she is though - sane or ridiculous. 

She had another conversation with her father yesterday.  Another attempt to explain to someone who has been indoctrinated in the belief (like most of his generation) that Depression is simply depression – a feeling that is unfounded in her case, that one should merely ‘get over it', that it is not a chemical imbalance in the brain,  that it is something she can control.  If only it were that easy.  That belief is the whole reason she suffered with it for so long to begin with.  She thought the same.  She thought that she had nothing to be depressed about and therefore she should not be Depressed. 

Her review is coming up in April – there is no way she would have been able to come off the medication during the winter.  Not with it being so dark and miserable outside.  Not with the compounded effect of S.A.D.  She's not expecting to be allowed to begin to wean herself off Sertraline.  She's expecting the dosage to be increased.  All the progress she was making seems to have been wiped away.

                Her dreams are not as vivid as they were – it is as if the colour has faded and the edges are blurred.  The tone has changed.  She was never frightened of spiders yet now they are in her dreams terrifying her.  It is passing through to reality. 

She's suddenly squeamish now too.  People will talk about injuries and operations and now her stomach will turn and her hearing will become blocked with cotton wool.

She is struggling to keep up.

                Her husband is ill.  Whenever he is ill he becomes easily irritated, oversensitive to comments, insensitive to her feelings, and generally difficult.  When she's also ill he becomes intolerable.  He turns things into a competition – she has cold hands, so does he but he has Raynauds disease.  She has a cold, he has a sinus infection. 

The insensitivity makes her dread the idea of children.  How would she cope with him if she were pregnant?  With swollen feet and aching back…  She already has a bad back – she injured her shoulder when she worked in the theatre, but whenever she needs her back rubbed – his back hurts too.  She's in chronic pain.  Some days it is more bearable than others, but she is never pain free.  27 (? – she cannot quite remember anymore) years old and in chronic pain.  It is actually made worse by her desk job.

Part of her wishes she had never introduced her husband to massage.  It was the only way to get him to consent to the level of contact she needed at the time, however.  The only way he'd let her run her hands over his body.  Exploring him as she was desperate to be explored.   Worshiping flesh.  It is her own fault really.  She should get him massage lessons for Christmas, perhaps that would help?  Somehow she doubts it.  He does not seem to enjoy giving her pleasure or touching her.

The longer this continues the more she dissolves in fantasy relationships – craving the feeling of being desired – of someone wanting to touch, of needing to touch.  The longer this continues the harder it will be to be OK with where she is and what she has.  But it is an addiction. 

                In the breaths while her code is compiling she tries to focus on why she is wrong and everything she thinks is unjustified.  She makes lists and writes reports.  She analyses.  She tries logical approaches.  Ultimately it is always about control even if it is an acknowledged delusion.

Root cause: Rejection Sensitivity stemming, as is typical, from early childhood experiences.

Underlying predisposition:  Neuroticism.

Symptoms: Hypersomnia; difficulty making decisions; problems concentrating; feelings of guilt and low self-esteem; pessimism; frequent feeling of sadness, apathy and irritability.

Diagnosis: Atypical Depression.

Solution: Tackle the root cause, obviously.  A brief Google search reveals the top suggestion:

·         Thicken your skin by embarrassing yourself at least once a day.

Maybe her Drama degree was useful for other reasons than education then.

                The office is stifling today.  It is too warm and she cannot breathe.   She's already been for a walk over to stores with Morgan – some fresh air and a fresh view.  Morgan is sympathetic and tries to brighten her up.  She tries to cheer Morgan up about his potential job move as he's still miserable in his current job.  She understands – she does not particularly like this office either. 

It is Grae's birthday and so samosas appear.  She goes over to wish Grae many happy returns.  He's 27 today.  He invites her to his birthday meal – she hadn't been aware he was having one.  She knows that she cannot really afford to go out this month.  Part of her resents this as she knows it would be fun, even though Morgan cannot make it and she would not really know anyone else.  She likes Grae.  He's a little barmy but he's got a huge heart.  She returns to her desk and then her Google messenger pings:

 Graeme:  boo

 me:  Hello chikadee

 Graeme:  i invited you J

 me:  Merci!  J

 Graeme:  if you need help getting there let me know

 me:  Thank you, darling.  xx

 Graeme:  thats if you want/can come

lol

 me:  J

Hows your day going?

Car sounds awesome btw.

 Graeme:  erm, not bad. Checking drawings, which is always a game!

lol its a shed

http://www.rodsnsods.co.uk/forum/vehicles-sale/fox-mustang-convertible-5-o-ltr-cheap-76782

but has a rebellious hideous cheesy appeal

 me:  Doesnt sound too bad.  It has a usable roof.  What more do you want?

J

 Graeme:  I bet its like a colander! Looks like a tramps hat haha

How is your day?

 Sent at 11:33 on Tuesday

 me:  Alright, thanks.  Coding so its going soooooo slowly.

 Graeme:  ooh, sounds quite complicated

do you put any secret codes in for fun?

 me:  Sometimes.  Not in final versions though.  Use silly names for test variables sometimes.  Hehehehe

 Graeme:  haha, you should build a little sonic game in if you press the horn 3 times and press other buttons

like some secret haha

 me:  Hehehe  That would be manic

 Graeme:  what do you have to code?

Sorry if you are busy and want me to leave you alone just say!

i see the busy sign is up in action lol

 Sent at 11:37 on Tuesday

 me:  lol.  Yeah.  Coding is one of those activities that while youre writing it takes all your attention but when it is running or compiling leaves you bored with nothing to do.

Writing a program that takes CAD parts and finds where they should be linked together and does so.

 Sent at 11:39 on Tuesday

 Graeme:  wow, very clever! so you are the DS police?

or are creating one lol

 me:  Thats the plan, yep.

J

 Graeme:  J

lol my nan makes me laugh

 me:  She text/ring you?

 Graeme:  she was on about giving me some money for a new car

 me:  Awwwwww

 Graeme:  in her card she said I will give you some money

but, £50 wont get me one haha

 me:  Awww bless her.

 Graeme:  She originally said around £5000!

she must have thought twice lol

I get moaned at when they see my shed when I go home and try to force me to buy a new car

 me:  In the 60s you could get a car for £50?

 Graeme:  probably lol

she doesnt drive though

so she has never had a clue

 me:  Yeah.... that there is your problem....

Graeme:  what car u gonna get next?

 me:  Bought a new 1.4L Polo.  Just a little run around.  The old one was Y reg 1L Polo.

Upgrade.

Husbands new car will be a fun one when we have the money.

 Graeme:  J

what will that be?

 me:  No idea yet.  Looking around.  J

Last time it was a 3 series tourer.... Currently a Golf 1.9 TDI for sensible reasons.  Thinking a sports car of some kind.  Prob a soft top knowing him.

 Graeme:  ooh

classy

 me:  lol

 Graeme:  I am unfortunately a bit trailer. People say the crap cars suit me

I dont seem to fit a nice car haha

 me:  I wouldnt say that.

lol

Theyre classics.

Bit of love required.  That kind of thing.

Rough around the edges.

 Graeme:  yeah haha i guess. They are loud and obnoxious and needing a bit of love a bit like me

 me:  With character.

J

 Graeme:  haha

btw is it hot in here or what

its stupid!

air con is dead

 me:  I know!  All these PCs!

*note I avoided the obvious ‘Its getting hot in here... lyrics

 Graeme:  yes haha why do we all think that J

I found a bungalow in binley!

looking at 4pm lol

 Sent at 11:51 on Tuesday

 me:  Thats exciting!  didnt know you were moving....

 Graeme:  I want to move

Neighbour is a druggie and I have a screaming child above

I watch him dealing out his window when I am washing up the pots

and I want a garage

so I can have an outlet for stress

 me:  Yeah.... You need to move....

 Graeme:  if you had let me know sooner about the polo, I would have stole it from Morganl lol

 me:  My husband sold it to his brother.

 Graeme:  my 106 makes me depressed as its so grumpy to drive, the synchros are slow and its about as refined as a skateboard

 me:  Even Morgan didnt get it.

 Graeme:  ohh

 me:  Yeah

 Graeme:  :,(

 me:  I know!

I <3ed my polo.  She was called Bertha.

 Graeme:  haha, lovely! sounds like a name for a fatty car. Big bertha

 me:  She was lovely.

hehehe

 Graeme:  not a skinny polo

My 205 was called roger

 me:  Roger the 205

 Graeme:  roger died :

 me:  Hehehehe

 SHAPE  * MERGEFORMAT L

 Graeme:  his piston rings were non existant

 me:  Shouldnt have rogered him so often....

 Graeme:  I am surprised I didnt get pulled over, the smoke was horrific

I used to have it off the dash on the speedo, he was very quick

£50 i paid for him lol

it had faded orange

so I got the dukes of hazzard stickers for it

he even had a choke lol

 Sent at 11:59 on Tuesday

 Graeme:  how are you settling in now?

 me:  Alright.  Its OK.  Im leaving in 3 weeks for Electrical Integration at Gaydon though.  L

^^ See you can buy a car for £50.  Not that you necessarily would want one...

 Sent at 12:06 on Tuesday

 Graeme:  oh noo L

dont leave us haha

 me:  LOL

Have to Im afraid. ;) 

 Graeme:  but you are actually nice, and we want to get rid of the boring nasty people lol

probably that would mean we would only have about 10 people left in here but still lol

 me:  hugs Its not permanent.  Ill be back in building 12 after that!  J

 Graeme:  ah cool :P

let me know if there are any vacancies

I am sick of this office

it poops on my soul

 me:  Shall do.  I think everyone wants to leave here....

Morgan says the same.

 Graeme:  I am all hyper and friendly and everyone is miserable

and because of that I get put down loads in my SPR

and noone takes me seriously

just because I am light hearted

even my manager said its unfair

 me:  L  I know.  It really sucks.  I hated it when I first started here - Id come in in the morning and say hello and be cheery but noone replies.  Theyre all so miserable and headsdown.

My real office isnt like this at all.

Theyre fun.  Youd love it in Calibration and Controls.

Theyre all jokers.

Plus youd get to go on test.

 Graeme:  :D

Give me a jobby PLAYSE!

lol

 me:  Basically you need an IVN in Petrol EMS cal.

 Graeme:  ok

 me:  Have you been over to speak to anyone about maybe moving?

 Graeme:  but I am not the sharpest tool or brightest bulb, but I make up for it in a big heart haha

I am poop at maths

I forgot it all

 me:  3/4 of the guys in cal came through as apprentices.

 Graeme:  I did speak to mark

 me:  Mark?

 Graeme:  but he wont let me go. My manager

 me:  He cant force you to stay.

 Graeme:  well he kind of said I should stay here until my SPR is good

 me:  Have a chat with Lisa Johnson.  Shes a manager.

Circular argument - your SPR wont improve if youre unhappy.

 Graeme:  exactly

thanks

 me:  No problem.

If you want an introduction let me know.  Otherwise just e-mail her and ask if you can have a meeting to talk about EMS.

 Graeme:  Its nice there is hope J

I nearly left last week

 me:  There is always hope.

Awwww honey.

You feel like that again you come talk to me.

 Graeme:  thanks :*

haha didnt mean to do a love face

but thanks

J

 me:  LOL

No problem, darling.

 Sent at 12:18 on Tuesday