Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The days are the same

Every morning I wake up trying not to check social media. Every day at work I struggle to focus and not wonder why my phone is so quiet. I try not to notice if the boy I'm sporadically seeing is on gchat. I try not to think about whether the other guy I've been talking to is going to finally make real plans to hang out.

Then I decide I should do something to fix it, and I write, usually to a buddy. Today I feel like I've probably fried my regular buddies. I have no plans this week, and T is about to go to Germany for 10 days. I guess I do have plans Tuesday, but that's it. I left my gym bag home today because I forgot it's Wednesday, so I guess I'm not going to the gym. I need to set more volunteer training sessions, but I keep trying to keep my nights open for plans that keep not getting made. And running the store by myself will probably be kinda lonely.

I am not someone who thrives on my own. I am someone who loves having time alone when it's not the norm. I can take care of myself fine, and I can survive loneliness and boredom, but I don't like it. And I'm really really tired of not liking the most common theme in my life.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Time to talk about my mental health again

Silly as I know it is, I hoped my depression would fade when I moved to Boston. Far away from the things that hurt, and in a new place where my only task would be to build up rather than watch my life fall apart, I figured my poles would be nostalgia and happiness. I was wrong.

I love my job, but it's still a job, in an office, with stress, and occasionally without anyone else around all day. I still watch/listen to a lot of tv and radio news to keep from feeling so isolated. I like where I live, and my roommate is one of my dearest friends. My money is holding up ok, which has been helped by the fact that I don't eat out during the week. I go to the gym 3-4 times a week and soak up the endorphins. I cook all my meals for the week on the weekends, and I have a routine that's comfortable. I have a few friends, including two of my best friends, and I can generally find people to hang out with when I want to. I still talk to several friends and my mom every week. I'm even dating some people, one who's flaky and hard to get in touch with.

And yet I'm depressed. Bored and lonely. I fret over whether anyone will like me, whether I'll ever find a partner. I get home in the evenings and just stare. Or watch TV. I assume that's ok for some people, but it's not ok for me. I don't want to live like this, temporarily or permanently.

I'm taking steps to build things. I'm volunteering at the local anarchist bookstore, and I'm embarking on a plan to visit museums and things that I want to visit. I have a second date with someone in two weeks, and I'm confirming a first date for tonight. I'm pretty excited about the former, but I know that I want to be in something more serious and I'm not sure he can do that. Plus it's hard to think about it without knowing where he is and how he's feeling. I'm bad at not thinking about it. But his life is full, he has several partners and hobbies and school and family. And I'm just floating out here, needing validation and company.

I need to be satisfied with my life as I've built it. Boredom is temporary. My life is mine. Still, I can't conceive of my life feeling full without a partner, but I know that I can't be in a relationship until I'm ok with the idea of my life feeling full just on my own. I always know that I'm depressed rather than sad because I can't see a way out. Sadness has a path out, even if it seems unattainable. Right now I can't imagine any situation where I'm not depressed. I often wonder, rationally and without emotion, if there's any point to keeping up trying to live. Why would I want to keep being miserable? Since I'm not in a tail-spin at the moment, I recognize that that's not a healthy thought. Last night I finally shared that thought with my bestie. I promised them I would tell someone else so the burden wasn't totally on them. I also explained that I'm not in a flurry of emotion that would cause me to hurt myself. Because it comes from a thought process, however irrational it truly is, I'm also able to intervene and reach out and ask other to take care of me until I can be distracted enough to move past it. I'm not in danger. But I'm not happy and I'm not ok being unhappy.

So it's time to find a new doctor and get my next birth control shot, a therapist to deal with the codependency issues, and possibly a psychiatrist to figure out how I can be on 150mg of zoloft and still be depressed all the time.

Time for a new plan. Today, I'll call my new insurance-provided PCP and make an appointment. I'll call mom, get work done, eat lunch, get work done, have my afternoon coffee. Then I'll enjoy my date tonight, and I'll send an email back to the guy I'll see again in a few weeks. I'll bake vegan cupcakes for an event tomorrow with a group I've never met before, and I'll go to bed. If I'm going to feel like a depressed zombie, I'm going to keep moving. I know the only way to break out of the coating of blah is to keep moving, even if it doesn't seem like it's going to help.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Why do some foundations give only to 501c3s and others give to non-501c3s?

Why can some foundations (like Crossroads) give to any organization, but others with similar missions (like Resist) don't give unless the organization is a 501c3?

Basically, Crossroads isn't any different, they're just sticking their neck out further than most.

Crossroads is a foundation, which means it's a 501c3 that spends its money on other organizations rather than "doing the work" itself. In this case, they make a distinction between private foundations (which get money from a small group of sources) and public foundations (which get money from several sources). They are still only required to give out 5% of their total assets in a year, including whatever they spend on administration. (That is my personal pet peeve about foundation requirements. So much damn wealth stored up for no reason.)

So, here's the key: Foundations almost only ever give to 501c3 organizations, but that isn't strictly required. They can give to non-501c3 organizations, so long as the grant is still for a "charitable purpose." Which means that non-501c3s can get grants if their lack of 501c3 status is a coincidence. The risk of proving the organization's charitability falls on Crossroads. Crossroads can stick their neck out and give a grant to an organization that might not be approved for 501c3 status, but if the IRS disagrees, Crossroads has to stop giving to that organization. However, nothing I can find says that they'd have to pay the money back. So that's good. More likely than a foundation giving to a radical organization doing "charitable" work is that a foundation would give money to a for-profit organization to do "charitable" work. I'm guessing the ability to exploit it for personal or corporate gain is the far more likely purpose and use of this loophole.

Crossroads does require organizations have a bank account in the organization's name, which usually means having an EIN, which means filing an SS-4 (I think) with the IRS, which still means being legally recognized and regulated.


Saturday, March 9, 2013


I used to love that old story about someone walking through the sand, and Jesus picking them up and carrying them when things got hard. I have a different view of God, where God is love and love is expressed through other people. And this revision seems appropriate:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed a set of footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were a few sets, sometimes just one.
When I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat,
It seemed the whole world came rushing in to trample on me.
Finally I asked my friends why I got pushed around when things were so hard
And my friends replied,
"That was when we all came and took turns carrying you on our shoulders."

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Goodbye, Marcus

Goodbye, Marcus. I loved you. I wanted the best for you, and for us, even though I knew that would mean we couldn't do it together. I can't bear to see you happy with someone else, because I know what happiness is for you. It's shutting things out. It's trying to be impressive. You are impressive when you stop trying.

It was your birthday about four months after we started dating. I took you to the zoo to see the Komodo Dragon, and to a comic shop, and out for chicken and waffles. On the way home, you had tears in your eyes, because no one had ever really done anything for your birthday, except your mom when you were a kid. You couldn't believe I loved you enough to do that.

We went to Florida and went to GatorLand. You were so happy there. You loved everything about its reptiley goodness. We had fun, and we went back to our hotel and had incredible sex.

We went to New Orleans in the middle of a rough patch, and stayed in a crappy hostel. It was weird, having free days to roam a new city, but you indulged me when I looked up GPS coordinates for thw where the levees broke, and visited them.

On the road trip there, we pulled over to have sex in Mississippi because who knew if we'd ever get the shot. We threw the condom out the window. We had sex in seven states. You were the best sex I ever had.

I don't think I'll ever see you again. You couldn't wait two and a half months for me. I don't know that I can heal from that. I don't know if I can forgive you. I can't keep loving you.

You went to Las Vegas by yourself and got a tattoo that says, in Latin, "where there is love there is pain." I hope that that isn't true in all of your relationships, Marcus. But you can add this one to the list of Brittany, Dana, Rebecca, Helicia, and Holly. We had great love. And now we have great pain.

And here I thought I wouldn't leave an impression on your life. You got what you wanted. Another wound.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

I crashed tonight for the first time in a while, and when I began to come back up, I remembered some amazing things that I've done in the last two months.

  • I lost 12 pounds on purpose.
  • My resting heart rate is about 15-20 beats per minute less than it used to be (from 90s to 70s).
  • I can stay on the elliptical at level 5 or 6 for 75 minutes, even after lifting weights.
  • I can run up two flights of stairs without flinching, AFTER working out.
  • My left foot used to hurt regularly, and it doesn't. My left knee used to hurt when I worked out, and it doesn't.
  • There's a little faint line of bicep showing
  • I've gone to the gym 5 to 6 times a week for two months now.
  • I eat well six days a week.
  • I cook nearly all my own meals.
  • I regularly wear tank tops into the shark tank gym full of skinny undergrads.

Monday, January 14, 2013


It's become clear to me that L is living in the house I shared with E. None of our mutual friends will confirm or deny, on my request, but I'm pretty sure it's true. It hurts so badly to be replaced.

I am so much happier than I've been in a long time, and I'm moving forward with my life. It's 12:30 on Monday, and I'm taking care of myself as good as I ever have, but I'm crying. I don't know what to do, or what to say. I can't think of anything that will make me feel better and for eight months I've just been relying on time to heal this.

The thing is, I don't know that I actually miss him. I just feel invisible. I feel erased. I honestly think that if I didn't leave my room for a week, no one would notice. Maybe my boss if I didn't get to Atlanta at least once that week, but all of the people I relate to are far away.

I need closure. I need it so bad. I want to call him, say goodbye, hug, and leave forever. Anywhere but here.