Ugh. (Mind you, I am doing this for my benefit alone. If you choose to delve into my past with me, hang on it is a long ride.)

In bed. Thoughts invade my head. Turn on the light. Read. Put book down. Pick up journal. Write *MUST do list* (which looks strikingly similar to the To-Do list from Monday.) Put down journal. Sigh…

I started reading a book that Erin recommended, one that *started her writing again after she was out of college* Hmmm. The book, while informative to most, depressed me. All about writing something, anything not striving for perfection…get the inspiration, how to follow ideas…etc. Yeah, the thing is, that’s not my problem. I had to put the book down because I suddenly became angry with myself. Why angry? Oh, cause I feel like a misguided snob perhaps? I can write. I know my voice. I love my voice. My problem is NOT feeling inadequate and fearful… I’m quite the opposite in fact. My problem is, my problem is…motivation? Nyah, not quite the word…oh DISCIPLINE. Yep. Coupled by a nagging tendency to sabotage my life when wallowing in depressive states that I hide from the world, which MIGHT be a big reason why I can’t MOTIVATE myself to be DISCIPLINED.

Great. Now I am depressed. I hate being this person. Who the hell have I become?

And what do I do now? (meaning, this very moment, not a bigger picture)

I turn to my blog for the answers, for some unknown reason I chose to go back to the beginning. To read. Not to write. Not to think. But to read. I am almost at my blogeversary-a year has passed. Damn, it feels like an eternity! The Jen I have been for most of my blog time is NOT the *real* Jen I have been for 99% of my lifetime. When I told my landlord that I needed to get motivated to find employment and then I shared with him my story about the *agency* I worked at for 5 years, he told me “you’re right, that is not the Jen I know.” Meaning the one who threw her everything into working, overtime, all the time. And before my *jobby job* I was always the one who carried two or three jobs to make do. Who AM I? How did I become someone I despise so much? Ugh.

Not thinking that my brain is leading me anywhere deep, I probe into my beginning blog entries. You see, I started the blog upon suggestion by Erin. I was getting frustrated with sending out long, witty ranting emails to all the people I knew, and getting no response. I am sure people just deleted along the way and this pissed me off. I wanted someone to hear me! Erin suggested a blog format….uh? Huh? I am a huge believer in journaling. I found out things about myself that I had no idea lurked within, by writing words on the paper. the words in my head always, ALWAYS are running 50 times faster than my hand can write. I have been known to put many ideas in the margins of things I still want to write about, read about, think about, explore later or even things to tell people, or buy at the store. My mind has always worked much faster than my mouth and hand (scary, I know!) So much so that I really truly thought that I had some sort of undiagnosed bi-polarness going on. My manic state seems so much more…muchmuchmuch more. I have no middle. I am up or I am down. SHIT! I am bi-polar! But after a few months with a therapist, I came to the conclusion, with a little prodding and convincing, because of course I know myself and I know everything that maybe, MAYBE my *manic Jen* state IS normal Jen and the rest is a fucking fog of depression. Great…next.

So I am reading through the archives. My first entry in September and many in October (in the beginning of the month) are totally fun Jen wisdoms on life. THE reason I started the blog, to entertain myself and perhaps others through MY thoughts and ideas. And all of the entries, though very roughly formed, are coherent and together. I like this Jen. I hardly write like that on my blog anymore. NOT that I dislike the format I have taken on, because like all things Jen. I am a lot of everything. I like being personal, and political, and entertaining with my writing. But lately I am wanting to be more. I want to take my ideas, the ones rambling all over cyberspace and hundreds of pages of paper and scribbled out lists and POLISH. And PUBLISH. Who is THIS JEN? One that has always been there, but never quite inspired to go for it until recently. Yay. So THIS is why I was called to read my old blog entries at 3:30 am!

Wrong.

October was also the month that my world turned upside down. Everything in my *other world* the world I BUILT for myself. Shattered. Ugh. My words pierced right through me. I have not read my own words since it happened. How was this a year ago? A lifetime has passed…And I am sitting here, in the middle of the early morning…with my stomach turning thinking about it all.

And I saw the foreshadowing of things to come…wow. And I wonder why I am where I am today?

October 30th
But really, my heart and mind hurt the more than my body aches, something to do with crossing that invisible barrier from “helping troubled youth who are placed into residential care facilities” into “protecting and physically defending myself from troubled youth performing criminal acts on staff” is where I am having the most difficulty. And more painful then my neck and chest right now, is the fact that my illusion of safety and trust that we all demand in my line of work, has been shattered.

I am served with a life sentence greater than myself, when I can go through the day that I had, FULL OF RAGE and yet still sit in a room one on one with the girl who fought me, whom I pressed charges on… and look at her and try to figure out how the hell we can try to help her… how to imagine what her life must be like to make her be who she is at that moment sitting in front of me.

Thanksgiving
I am thankful for some innate goodness of heart and soul that I keep rediscovering in myself. Someone, somewhere is looking out for me, even with all the crap. And boy is there a lot of crap, but I still imagine a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel badly for those without this light, without the light? I would never had made it this far. I suppose it is my duty to inspire and serve others to find this light within….a fun task, really. Just don’t call me on a depressed day. Or a “where is my place in the world” day? Or a “when is it MY turn, selfish day” All other days and times are applicable, see store for details. Offer void without purchase.

Back to the present…
I chose to ignore the signs of depression, muddle through without thinking about consequences and fell flat on my face. Right about the time I moved into a new place. I knew I needed the change. Boy am I good at hiding the parts of me I don’t want to deal with. Ignoring clinical depression, especially when you are educated and KNOW the consequences is never a good thing…and it has taken me, what 8 months to deal with getting myself under control? God help me. How have my friends and family put up with me? How has 8 months gone by since January and I am still not making any kind of a difference in the world? When my therapist in the Spring mentioned that perhaps I had reasons to feel the way I do, I was pissed off, and demanded that I was ok, and needed to deal and move on. Without doing any of the work. And you can see how far that has gotten me. I am overwhelmed. Where do I go now? What the hell am I supposed to do?

And it all started because of a book about writing? Ironic, no?

I greet the morning once more…