April 22nd, 2002


Welcome to my Pity Party

The last couple of weeks have been really hard. It’s hard taking any kind of painkillers around the clock. It’s hard getting woken up by pain and eating a piece of bread at 4 AM so I can take drugs with something in my stomach. It’s hard when the drugs don’t touch the pain for awhile and it goes from one tooth to my gums, to my jaw, to my ear, feeling like it’s rattling around inside my brain. It’s hard not thinking clearly.

But mostly my self-imposed isolation is hard. One of the things I feel like I really know about myself is that I need to be social to be happy. It’s probably why I like working with the public whereas most of my friends hate it. But when I’m hurting, especially when my teeth are hurting, I can’t bear making conversation or being friendly in my usual ways so I stay at home.

Weirdly, one of the ways I first felt like a real adult was when I had an injury (a herniated disc in my neck) where I couldn’t leave my house for awhile and was fairly dependent on others. Though I’d done some care-taking for my partner who was disabled some of the time so I knew it intellectually, it was when I couldn’t just do things for myself that I realized that there are physical limits to enthusiasm and desire. It made me realize that some of the people in my life that I thought of as undependable or flaky were really just dealing with things I didn’t understand at the time.

I realized last weekend that I didn’t leave the house the entire two and a half days I have off. No wonder I’ve been feeling depressed. Today, though I didn’t really have a plan, and even though my teeth hurt so much last night I didn’t sleep well, I decided I had to get out and do things.

And it was pretty much a failure. I went to a record store in the Mission to sell zines. The owner had told me she’d buy some but she wasn’t there and the person behind the counter wouldn’t take them. Then I went to the Tenderloin to pick up mail at the mail drop. Worryingly, the door was locked, the regular business hours sign was gone, and there was no note like he usually leaves if he’s just doing an errand. Two senior citizens had already been waiting 15 minutes for his return. And, because I wasn’t yet depressed enough, they said they were going to wait awhile because they "had nothing better to do".

So I went to a movie which wasn’t interesting enough to distract me. Or maybe it was me. (Or maybe I should have gone to see "Death to Smoochy" after all) So I came home and realized that there are definitely times where pushing yourself just doesn’t help.

Oh well, I’m going back to the dentist tomorrow for more work. Wish me luck.

(Also, I have no idea why there is an extraneous letter or symbol immediately following everything I post. Anyone? [and will it be there this time now that I'm calling attention to it?])
  • Current Music
    Legal Weapon - "Death of Innocence"