The Quarterly

I tend not to update this bad boy a whole lot for fear of repeating myself and the same follies that are endemic to (mood) instability. In other words, the constancy of what I perceive to be a perpetual rut serves as the chief reason that I avoid writing. That said, my treatment team, most notably my Shrink Scott, and another social worker Sam (a female) with whom I worked for eight months or so, continually marveled at progress I have made (this progress is, of course, in comparison to the rest of their afflicted clientele). 

The way I see it, barely keeping my head above water is hardly cause for celebration, but then again things could always be worse. Scott and Sam continually applauded my efforts to put in the work necessary to improve across the board. Though most days my attitude hovers around a semi-depressive baseline and my physical energy seems to be nil (sometimes it feels like I'm glued to the bed, where today, I spent an all too common twelve hours) unless I'm forcing myself to work or the gym, minimal progress is better than no progress. 

When I take one step forward after taking several backwards (the seeming story of the last decade- now leaving me in the figurative red as far as net progress is concerned) it's important to remember that that step forward is better than stagnation, or worse yet further backsliding. 

It's Been a While

While things have settled for the time being, it seems, and perhaps because of my doing, or lack thereof, there exists an omnipresent and damn near unshakable air of potential instability lurking. I was describing to Scott, my shrink, how stability seems to be like that Whack-a-Mole game that used to be popular during the Chuck-E-Cheese days. For those that may be unfamiliar essentially you are given a mallet and a fixed time to knock down the eponymous moles that continually pop up. Just when you smash one back into its hole, another one, or two, or three pop up, turning it into a quite the exercise after the sixty seconds or what have you is up.

Mental (i.e mood), domestic (e.g. housing), financial, and physical (weight and wellness) are all such or domains (or, in keeping with the above analogy, moles) that require consistence maintenance as they have all faltered at one point or another over the past decade, sometimes crashing down simultaneously in an (im)perfect cacophony.

While my mood has been fairly stable for the past few months, despite an unexpected hypomanic hiccup a few weeks back, I recently found out that my roommates (were I any kind of decent blogger, I would have filled in a gap or two-- as of the new year, I moved out of the shelter and into a room in a house full of good-natured, overachieving, yet hard-partying college kids) will be deserting the house in search of greener pastures in a couple of months or so. As things stand right now, I'm not sure how or if it will affect my occupancy, but at the very least I could find myself in a dark house sans wi-fi, as the utilities are currently in my roommate's name.

Financially speaking, my federal return, despite being far more than expected ($1,000 or so), soon went to some sparse furnishings, housekeeping items, and, I'm not going to front some other recreational indulgences that can be easily surmised by regular readership. I'm still waiting on the state return, and while it's only about four hundred dollars or so, I'm reluctant to just bank it, as that's simply an impulse purchase away from nothing. That said, I've thought about treating myself to what seems like my 45th new iPhone or perhaps a playstation; though these expenditures may come across as reckless, at least these items have a decent resale value, should necessity ever mandate a parting.