540 degrees turn

I've always been afraid of relationships and commitment. Panicking on the mere thought of limiting my freedom even a little bit, giving up the possibility of spontaneousness and doing whatever and whenever I like, without taking anything - or anyone - into account. What's more, I always doubted I could be faithful to one person; after all, why should anything stop me from looking for more happiness? Truly, a childish attitude.

We've been living together in an apartment for quite a few months, getting to know each other, having all kinds of fun together, partying, creating, discussing about life, philosophy, physics, people, well, about everything. We helped to motivate and cheer up one another. It was all beautiful and natural.

Then we got a lot closer, sadly - when drunk. I didn't know until just recently what a terrible mistake it could have been. We didn't have any hard feelings for one another about it, managed to maintain the status quo, but surely a promise and hope for something more appeared. It took just a few weeks for another opportunity to realize how much affection we share.

It's been wonderful since then. I could hardly believe it wasn't a dream. After so many years of loneliness and frustration, I'm the happiest ever, and it's all because of her. We don't argue, because anything that might stand between us is of little to no importance. There sure is lust, but care is so much more important. And above all, we are best friends. The only thing I want is for her to be happy, to support her however possible, and I know it is reciprocated. We can look at one another smiling, and it gives us the shivers. I'd rather never lived than make her sad, let alone fail her trust. She doesn't limit my freedom - she makes every moment better, shining, joyous.

And it feels everything is getting still better.

I'm insanely in love with my best friend, and everything is going well. I couldn't wish for more.

Out of blue

It all happened so unexpectedly. I'm not complaining, quite the contrary: I'm amazed and so happy I can barely speak with words.

I have great friends. Friends on whom I can always depend, even though I'd rather not, friends who understand and respect me for who I am.

If I didn't need no money at all, I'd still work where I do right now, I like it so much. The people, perspectives, everything about it.

And now I can share my plans and my dreams with Her. A kindred spirit and a real beauty. She makes me so happy I can't stop smiling - and I don't want to stop. All and any problems seem trivial or completely irrelevant now.

Everything is so great it feels like a dream. The best thing is, I'm not going to wake up any time soon, if ever.

Backfire

Surprisingly, speaking with a psychologist did help me learn even more about myself. The question is: what do I do with it next?

She noticed that whatever she says, I negate it. I don't cover my ears nor do I try to simply talk louder than her. I'm more... sophisticated? I belittle the premise, I digress showing some other possible causes for whatever we would be talking about, I can find a dozen excuses for why it's not exactly so or why it's more complicated. The tricky part? I do the same with anything I come up with. To make it more interesting: whenever I retort with something, I continue by disagreeing with what I just said! It would be a great exercise. Would be - if it didn't happen all the time.

It doesn't matter whom I speak with, it doesn't matter what we talk about. It happens when I'm all alone just thinking about anything at all. I play the devil's advocate 24/7, I politely disagree and introduce always new circumstances, show the case - however serious or trivial it may be - from a different perspective. There is no way to reach any conclusions with such endless process. Unless I find, think of, decide for some sort of a paradigm which would help me stop it. But what should that be? Whatever suits me now? Whatever won't make me trouble in future? If so, when - next week, next month, next year, never? Whatever is best for others? Whatever feels right? Should I really decide for just one? And here it is again - I'm so concerned with making an informed decision, I can't stop listing all the possibilities. Well, I'm afraid it's a personality thing. So much for hope of curing it with medications.

This is crazy. It paralyses me when it comes to studies, work, relationship, anything. First I take some responsibilities, then I try to play it all down, so I could maintain the status quo and wouldn't have to worry about making any more decisions, changes. I long for change, but when it comes to it - I'd rather... go to sleep, wait till it's over. The very same pattern, over and over again. How do I break through?

Psychiatrist next week, some more psychological tests in three weeks time. I'm such a mess.

Today I learnt: life has consequences

You might think little of something. Be glad, actually. But "No man is an island, entire of itself" - obvious, isn't it? I tend to learn the obvious lessons the hard way, by my own mistakes. That's what I get for questioning everything and anything. You say something is wrong? Well, let me see for myself. Sure, there are no regrets nor qualms for getting "wiser". The price might be too high, though.

A few weeks ago - honesty. Recently - trust. Whatever I'm doing, it always seems like a good idea. Shortly afterwards, it backfires cruelly. I wished to go for a trip somewhere far, but the only trip I got was a guilt one. Will I ever be too old for such foolishness? I hope so. And I hope not. I love the unpredictability of events, but I don't want to hurt anyone. Can it be balanced?

The etiquette, customs and conventions are not inherently limiting and bad, it seems. They are the best approximation and guides to what will and what won't hurt or simply displease others.

I am greatly disappointed with myself. I know it will let me choose better from now on, but I so wish I had known it before. I am so distant to everything that concerns me, that it's hardly a problem. I do care for how my actions affect others, though.

Oh, what a blabbering. Not a single coherent thought.

What doesn't mix well with fluoxetine

First things first: my psychiatrist is not sure whether I'm suffering from depression, so she sent me to a psychologist to get more background. Another week and a half of waiting. In the meantime, she prescribed me fluoxetine (aka Prozac), saying it won't hurt, but might help. Needless to say, I was eager to try it.

For the medicine to take any noticeable effect will take at least two to three weeks, but I'm pretty sure it already works in the system. The doctor said that a bit of alcohol won't be a problem, the thing is, she must have known a different measurements for 'a bit'. Long story short, I got completely wasted with amounts that wouldn't otherwise have that much of an effect on me. Lesson learned - drink less or nothing at all.

In retrospect, it was really stupid of me. Some things you've got to find out for yourself, though. I'm glad this misadventure ended up with just a few bruises. Another thing: when having low alcohol tolerance, always make sure that you won't be going home by yourself. It shouldn't need a mention, right? Well, I happen to lack some basic survival instincts on occasions.

Other news - I was invited on a trip to China. I must say, if it works, it might cure my disappointment with cancelled journeys of last summer. Tonight we'll be discussing the when and how.

There are quite a few things going on, concerning people, travels, work, education. I just hope I won't miss it because of inactivity - more and more deadlines come, and even though I could deal with all of it in one afternoon... I can't. I'd love to, but I can't. I'd need someone standing right behind me, urging me to make appointments, send mails etc. Why would I make it so difficult for myself? I have no idea.

Let's hope it's clinical

When going to sleep, I set an alarm clock, so I wouldn't lose all day. In the morning, I turned it off with no second thoughts and laid till after noon. I was not sleeping - there was just nothing important enough to get up.

One could say that I got attracted to the possibility that I'm actually suffering from depression and so can't be held fully responsible for my actions or lack thereof. A valid point, I'd say, if not for the fact that it's nothing new - even when I was sure it's just my laziness I couldn't muster the resolve to do... anything.

When I called to get an appointment with a psychiatrist, a receptionist lady asked if it was something urgent. She was clearly trying to sound cheerful, almost turning it into a joke; she said I sounded calm, so how could it be that serious? She got somewhat defensive when I said that although I was not going to kill myself, I've been continuously unnecessarily complicating my life wasting one opportunity after another for at least four or five years already. And so I managed to schedule a visit within two weeks.

I'm not indulging in any new kinds of inactivity. What I'm doing though is observing if they fit within depression's symptoms. Naturally, they do. I still hope I'm not making it up, trying to justify myself and shed the responsibility.

Like taking a long shower, sitting with knees close to the chest, wishing it would last forever, so I wouldn't have to go out and face... anything, anyone. Or playing a film and watching it for just a few minutes before I've had enough. It's nothing new, I just think I found a common denominator.

I will be terribly disappointed with myself if it won't be a medical condition.

It's all about serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine.

I've had it enough with the inability to do anything. I'm spending whole days doing nothing. Studying, writing, reading, watching films, even wasting time on the web - everything lost any appeal it might have had. So I listened to my friend and decided to see a psychiatrist.

I am yet to schedule a visit, so I'm not diagnosed with anything yet, but if it was depression (which should be clear in the following weeks), I guess I have a few thoughts to share already.

My friend's been trying to make me look for help for quite a few years now. Why wouldn't I listen? I guess I presumed everyone had similar problems with motivation and whatnot. I do not consider myself oh-so-special, so much wiser and more conscious than anyone else; we're all the same kind of animals, after all, and so we face all the same issues. My parents and few other people say I'm just lazy and carefree, and I too came to believe so. All I would need to do is actually do something, right? If everyone else can, so should I. What I never took into account was the possibility that I might be suffering from an illness.

Even now I fear it's just another justification for my laziness. After all, it's not difficult to rationalise one's actions. "It's not because I'm lazy, I'm depressed. It's a clinical state." Sounds believable, doesn't it?

When I have flu or any other physical sickness, I can't remember how did I feel when I was healthy and vice versa. Why would it be any different with your head? I wouldn't admit I was sick, being sure everyone else felt just the same. Actually, it would be some great news to hear that my condition can be cured.

Let's get it at least diagnosed, then.