CarSwapping Cables
Mar. 29th, 2021 03:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepnutgalleryI had much less of my usual difficulty staying focused. It felt like a moment. Like I Leveled Up and in doing so, jumped the track. I could see the finish line of my very reasonable standards that I do all of my work, some of everyone else's, and continue to do extra-credit to learn to be a Real Lawyer. And trying to single-handedly take enough MCLEs that our company's scholarship gets renewed. That part is actually fairly easy, because I can listen in just enough to get credit, so I can do it while I'm working. And thanks to all of that, I did it. I finished all of my work, then took care of eservice, then entered everything we had thus far into CMS. I didn't quite empty the claims queue, and I've got to find that line between helping others and "stealing" jobs anyway. I really don't want to need mania (MAAANIA) for my full-time job, and since I'm so terrified of failure, I really don't want to rely on an involuntary state for 40 hrs/week. I don't want 10 jobs crammed into mine, I don't want to need mania to meet expectations, and since I don't know how to make myself manic, that would be a Great Big Red Flag regarding my sheer terror at vulnerability. I thought about sending an email about it, the way Carl does when he helps out with eservice for the next day, but I got into my head. I had no right decision, but silence is golden. And I am comparatively safe in my own skin. Plus I'd already mentioned it at the last Zoom meeting, if only tangentially, so saying anything else felt boastful.
I'd texted with Justin some, but for some reason, my last reply wasn't showing up on my side of things. He noted that he had definitely received it, but had just had a rough couple days. I sort of fumbled out a statement of interest sans prying.
My session with Candace felt...off. Not a contributing factor, just worth noting given the circumstances, but she initially sent the Zoom link an hour early. She really leaned into how I should be totally sober. Reminded me I'd agreed to try for no blackouts and to get a breathalyzer. She wants me to figure out why I drink, aside from the reasons I've already covered. She also posited that my desperate need to help Julian (et al) is somehow really about getting help for myself. That doesn't feel correct, and not just because I violently reject both help and the need for help. Ew. On the plus side, I talked some about my leftover guilt from being such a drugged-out mess and Failing to see it. Lady Miss Friday couldn't get me to stop. WTAF is wrong with me. *WHO*TAF am I. I just need to put it to use. Make it motivate me. Make up for it. And despite my fear of success (this time *due* to my fear of failure - harder falls and all that), sure, the other shoe might drop. But it would be opposite my fear; the more mentally healthy and mentally stable I am, the less damage it would do.
Julian called me after work, but I still hopped over to the store. I didn't want to risk not having vodka for the Happy Hour, of course, and I was running out of a few other things. I could obviously have done without, but remember that as absurd as it sounds, one of my tangential goals is to stop starving myself (in any sense) to save $.0fucking3. He said something about having a previous domestic violence incident when he lived in Washington, but the details were vague at best.
I'd texted with Justin some, but for some reason, my last reply wasn't showing up on my side of things. He noted that he had definitely received it, but had just had a rough couple days. I sort of fumbled out a statement of interest sans prying.
My session with Candace felt...off. Not a contributing factor, just worth noting given the circumstances, but she initially sent the Zoom link an hour early. She really leaned into how I should be totally sober. Reminded me I'd agreed to try for no blackouts and to get a breathalyzer. She wants me to figure out why I drink, aside from the reasons I've already covered. She also posited that my desperate need to help Julian (et al) is somehow really about getting help for myself. That doesn't feel correct, and not just because I violently reject both help and the need for help. Ew. On the plus side, I talked some about my leftover guilt from being such a drugged-out mess and Failing to see it. Lady Miss Friday couldn't get me to stop. WTAF is wrong with me. *WHO*TAF am I. I just need to put it to use. Make it motivate me. Make up for it. And despite my fear of success (this time *due* to my fear of failure - harder falls and all that), sure, the other shoe might drop. But it would be opposite my fear; the more mentally healthy and mentally stable I am, the less damage it would do.
Julian called me after work, but I still hopped over to the store. I didn't want to risk not having vodka for the Happy Hour, of course, and I was running out of a few other things. I could obviously have done without, but remember that as absurd as it sounds, one of my tangential goals is to stop starving myself (in any sense) to save $.0fucking3. He said something about having a previous domestic violence incident when he lived in Washington, but the details were vague at best.
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