Dual Diagnosis

No...I don't have any new news about the saga of my vagina.  No, nothing so much as a peep from the doctor because she wants me to sit in the silence and be OK with it.  Nothing wrong with my doctor.  She actually just wants me to wait so they can have "clearer" view when we do the 2nd pap.  We're not looking at diagnosing anything at this point.  I'm just supposed to wait.

Now...if you know me....I DO NOT WAIT.  I actually suck at waiting.  More specific, I do not wait well.  I tend to take people hostage and include them in my misery.  I'm hoping to not do that this time because I really am tired of the guilty feeling I have every time I open my mouth and start talking to someone.  That's what has seemed to be happening lately.  I feel like I start talking and then people start telling me something and I don't get a chance to tell my story.  So I've just stopped talking to people for the most part.

Which brings me to my Subject...I have given myself a dual diagnosis and here is what Nurse Shannon has found.

1.  I don't give a shit.  About anything really.  I don't feel like I'm participating or at the most giving my limited attention.  I'm fucking off at work.  I'm getting "talks" from Dick the boss.  All chummy and a little motivational.  Which, for Dick, is a bad thing because one of the side effects of not giving a shit is that I have a very low tolerance for motivation and will just throw "fuck you" signs to his back.  This is affecting my personal life too by encouraging me to gorge on just about anything.  I go in spurts.  Today was egg drop soup.  Monday was Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Both are crap for you.  I know I'm in denial at this point in my life.  Hiding one thing has proven to be convenient and so I lump other things in there with it.  Weight, skin issues, budding tendency to spend money again...all things I need to get under control.  But, like my 12 step program, admitting you have a problem is the first step to concurring it.

2. With this "don't give a shit", I am also struck with the inability to write something.  I was used to writing something every day...may not post it but it was something I wrote.  Now, my well feels dry.  I'm surprised I'm getting this out of me.  I am just lifeless and I hate that feeling.  I hate going back to the place in my head where I am struck mute and left to waste away in my feelings of inadequacy and loathe for the physical person I am.  Right now I would be just as happy to stay up in my bedroom and order chinese food.  My boss actually told me today that he knew I didn't want to have "interaction" with anyone.  What the hell am I doing to make him think that?  I know I've told him that I don't want to be friends with people at work; I meant that I don't want to be friends with them outside of work.  But he's taken it to mean that I just really don't want to know people at an even basic level.  And that couldn't be further from the truth, I really like to think I've become more open.  I just don't want people at work to know me outside of work.  That's just the type of person I am.  So, the only things I can write about lately is around my compulsions to leave work and get a smoothie at Quik Trip, spending an hour updating my calendar or bringing out my new phone and learn the ins and outs of it.  The most exciting thing I've been looking at is the 335 page user manual for my Android.  I'm tired of hearing myself say I'm busy, behind, overwhelmed and running late.  I think, with doing the action in number 1 (admitting I have a problem) will encompass this issue.   I just need to find the motivation to take that step.  And I promise to not throw "fuck you" signs as I motivate my way to a more enjoyable life.