back on the chain gang

First day back at work after a month away. It's so much harder than I imagined...coming back. At least everyone was off, as the place closed its doors for four weeks, so there's not the usual paranoia of returning to work wondering who said what about me when and why. But there is the concern that I've forgotten HOW. How to do my job, how to smile and nod and chatter politely. What did you do on your holidays Lil? No stories of travel, of exotic parties, of outings and such. A lot of sleep, brought on by boredom, inertia and the ever-present vague pulse of panic that was easier to avoid by nodding off. The good thing about Being Back is that I have some time very morning to blog and visit blogs, which is harder at home using Michelle's laptop.

My date on Wednesday last was perfectly charming. We had a lot of fun, he beat me at bowling, he bought me lunch, we talked and laughed a lot. He has an interest in someone else, someone who was just a couple of days ahead of me in the internet matching stakes, so it seems we will remain in that Just Friends zone. There's no JUST about it, according to me, because I need friends more than I need random lovers. So I am thrilled to have made it onto his friends' roster and already feel my life is richer through knowing him. Whether I have the nerve to do it again, the whole meeting and greeting thing, with another boy, remains to be seen. It takes it out of me, even in a friendship scenario... esp. as I am currently languishing a little in the doldrums. Probably just a matter of waiting until the upswing.

dressed like a punk you were too young to remember

Had a great session with Doc A on Thursday, where I rambled about my babyish fears and feelings of separation anxiety from my family, and he made the predictable, yet accurate, statements about the challenges of individuation and such. I sometimes think that my main gain from therapy is the validation, which seems so irritating because it's a basic service I shouldn't need to pay $250 an hour for, and for which Doc A needn't have studied for ten years! I could have just recorded my own voice on a tape recorder saying "you are fine, you are okay, yes you have reasons to be angry, yes it's okay to feel sad". Aaargh. I'm kidding, really, I know there's more to it and that the work I'm doing with Doc A has helped my Ego gain control over the rampaging Id and all that Jungian palaver. In the end, I can say 100% that therapy is worth the effort and the financial outlay - I'm "better" with it than without it I guess. That's what it comes down to with medication, too. If I function more effectively, and feel happier and more peaceful on fluoxetine and amisulpride, then I'll keep taking it.

In other news, I had a brief reawakening of my mojo a couple of weeks ago, brought about by a flirtatious afternoon with my 18-year-old coworker Logan. Innappropriate, who me?? It's interesting to me that I could actually FEEL myself becoming BPD-ish, and more importantly could head my obsessive fantasies off at the pass, as if they were runaway brumbies lol. He's a lovely lad, and if I was twenty (or even ten haha!) years younger I'd give it a red hot go, but really - even I know where to draw the line. Logan is the only man who works for the Foundation, and Michelle said to me maybe I'd fixated on him because I missed male company and Logan was the only male in my environment... Probably true! I'm not exactly falling over blokes in my current life. Most of the time I don't want one (a bloke that is), but sometimes it's nice to imagine. I'm relieved that my fancying Logan was a short and sweet moment in time, rather than a long drawn-out obsessive crush like that last two workmates I flirted with. Maybe I really AM becoming well??

(Belle & Sebastian provide today's song lyric - "I'm a Cuckoo")