Life is a gift. I sense my ability to appreciate it gradually returning, and I find that invigorating.

Today's "work" was... well, quite relaxing and enjoyable. Spent part of the morning reading the eXtreme Programming book, part trying out Mozilla 0.8. Also finishing up a little package updating, which helped decrease my ignorance of the rpm build spec, and well... expanding my musical horizons through jukebox usage. :)

The afternoon... well.... If you define "work" as stuffing one's stomach with delicious yummies (catfish... mmmm... chocolate brownies smothered in ice cream... mmmm), playing a healthy dose of video games at Dave and Buster's, and then returning home by mid-afternoon, then I was astoundingly productive, as were many of my coworkers. Hah!

Of course, Monday will be back to the grind, although... I'm getting a strong feeling that even "the grind" is going to end up quite different than anything experienced at this job before. Embrace change! Yeah!

...

After I returned home, I lounged around, spent a little time reading Slashdot, and ran across to some links to pretty disturbing stuff. I put this link here not to bring us back down into darkness (there's been plenty of that in this sector over the the past 2 weeks), but more to convey what crossed my mind while reading this. In the grand scheme of things, my life, even with all its problems, looks pretty damn good.

I called up the pharmacy, and was delighted to find that my emergency prescription was ready for pickup. Hopped back into Tobias, drove a few blocks. A name, an insurance card, and a happy bank account depletion card swipe later, and I was exiting the store with a bottle of new-style slow releasing lithium tablet pills. We'll see how they work. I am hopeful.

(The sad thing about these sorts of prescriptions is that whether or not it's "working" is virtually non-perceptible in the short term. The only things you notice right away are the negative side effects. Hence the tendency to disbelieve their positive aspects. The key is in what you don't notice. If six months down the road, I'm living normally without having a psychotic breakdown, I would be unlikely to realize it, or grasp how much worse things could have been. Unless it had happened a time or two before, and I had suffered catastrophic losses because of it. Time is a teacher; not always a very merciful one.)

As I made the quick return home from the drugstore, I thought about something the temp emergency therapist last week had told me: That as painful as it all was, this person whom I referred to as my "mentor" had really done me a big favor by cutting off contact.

When my temp therapist suggested this, I had to reluctantly agree, but I still did NOT like it.

(Total random tangent: This is almost getting to be too much. Here I have this site on which I used to constantly reference "my mentor". Now, it's getting to be "my theripist", "my doctor", "my temp therapist", on and on... lol.)

Today, as I gratefully toted home my prescription, an even scarier thought occurred to me: Saying "so long" with a hard, smacking crack of the whip may have not only been a favor, but the biggest favor ever done in terms of helping my life.

It rings all too true, but the fact that it does pisses me off like hell. :)

On that weekend two weeks ago, my then-mentor could see that I was getting worse. Again. Another nasty, rough time in the head of Bitscape. I grasped for the familiar.

But this time, when I reached out, there was no safety net. My emails of distress (expressed in a crude, impolite manner) at the beginning of the weekend were given curt, unsympathetic replies. No good advise. No soothing, "Things are going to be okay" reassurances. No peppy "But look at what opportunities you can have!" messages.

I was flailing.

I tried again. I admitted that I had been unpleasant, and attempted to supplicate for another chance.

Denied. Coldly.

I was in freefall. I had to reach out. My life didn't make any sense. At the same time, I recognized that I deserved exactly what I was getting. In a way, that made it worse, because it increased my sense of guilt. I was doing no good in the world, only harm. Being alive was too painful. But I didn't want to lose it just yet either. I couldn't live without support.

Feeling even stupider that I had to resort to doing so, looked up the suicide hotline number on the web. Nervously, I called it. The last digit was the hardest. (Yes, this is indeed a rehash / repeat of what was rambled earlier. Deal with it.)

From there began the painful track to a place I should have gone months ago, if not before.

If the Emailist Formerly Known as My Mentor had continued to keep me afloat through that, I almost certainly wouldn't have a new bottle of pills in my possession now. I could very well be farther down the path to something much worse than the blurry nightmare which composed roughly the first half of my week this week.

The Emailist Formerly Known as My Mentor did do me a favor. A very painful favor which left an unbearable-seeming exit wound. It is not unbearable.

As a side effect, untentionally perhaps (or maybe not), The Emailist Formerly Known as My Mentor also made sure that I'm not going to be able pick the scab. Certainly not very easily, at least.

One question still looms in my mind: What was my then-mentor motivated by? Was it an act designed and calculated to shock me into helping myself, as I have more or less painted in this rambling? Was this an altruistic gesture? Done because my mentor had correctly realized that no matter what words were used, further attempts at convincing were not going to have any effect.

Or, was it purely a selfish loss of patience? I had been starting to turn into a real ass toward the end, with increasing frequency and hostility. It would not surprise me to learn that my mentor simply gave up on me, and decided that I, as a person, was a waste of resources. Things written my TEFKAMM (The Emailist Formerly Known as My Mentor) in the past reflected a very low level of tolerance for members of society who refuse to take responsiblity for themselves and their own lives. Perhaps I had sunk to that level.

This thought -- that I am now considered one of the icky mindless underclass, unworthy of even the time of day -- is one of the thing's that's been poking and knawing at my insides ever since the cutoff. It prevents the wound from healing, because of the always returning sense of self-worthlessness.

I know the solution in my mind: It shouldn't matter what TEFKAMM thinks of me. I need to look at myself through my own eyes, not the eyes of another. If I can do that, then I will be free.

That was another thing Tefkamm (why keep doing annoying caps just caues it's an abbrev?) kept trying to teach me. To stand of my own feet, metaphorically speaking. Unfortunately, that lesson could never truly be learned as long as I was going back to lean on Tefkamm every 5 seconds.

So....

This Rambling is going on WAY too long.

To this end, ramblings no longer use the word "mentor" to refer to this individual. (Nor any prefix denoting past tense.) The reason being is that the word connotes a certain moral, intellectual, or other form of superiority. If I'm going to break this, I've got to stop putting myself at a lower level. I've got to recognize and acknowledge my own competence.

From this day forth, "my mentor" is now "Tefkamm". (Pronounced: tef-kam just like it's spelled.) Yes, it's an acronym, and one of the letters does stand for "mentor", but you know how it is with acronyms. After a few uses, everybody forgets what the letters originally stood for.

But...

;)

So, Tefkamm, from this day forth, is... Tefkamm.

Interesting name, I guess. lol. And no, Tefkamm gets no say whatsoever regarding this matter. His Royal Highness, the King of The Lounge has declared it to be. And so it is. (BTW, you're NOT reading this either, right, Tefkamm? Good. I didn't think so. ;)

Actually, I'm doubtful that Tefkamm will be really be referenced very often here in the future anyway. Since, as the acronym implies, I am no longer in contact with Tefkamm, there probably won't be much rambling fodder from Tefkamm. Only occassional rehashes from the past.

But still, it's fun to dream up proclamations and titles. :)

...

So anyway, back to the rambling of the day. After I got my prescription, I slept for a bit. Woke up, sat at Argo. (There's nothing quite like having the computer chair less than a meter from the bed to reinforce net addiction.)

Played around some with Moz 0.8. Nice stuff. It does seem to have introduced a few wierdities with the interface on this round though. As always, it's my browser of choice. Those guys do an awesome job. I bow down at their proverbial feet. (Oh wait! I'm not supposed to be bowing at others' feet. I'm "His Royal Highness!" Yes, that's it.)

Spruced up Argo's desktop a bit. Grabbed a new E theme, and some xmms skins. Goodie.

Here's a screenshot of what my desktop has looked like throughout this rambling, inspiring all these... inspired words.

Holy cow, I did NOT intend to do such a long rambling tonight. I guess sometimes it needs to happen though.

Plans for the weekend?

Um.... Maybe visit the Content Collective a little, since I sort of abondoned it to function on its own while I fought my demons. Maybe a bit of code. A bit of reading. A bit of exercise. A bit of driving. A bit of DVD. A bit of Buddhism. A bit of music (which is playing right now). A bit more healing.

And a BITE to eat! I haven't eaten since lunch, nor have I wanted to. That D&B was plenty to keep me from hunger for many an hour. But I think a little Taco Bell is warranted now. Just a bit. But no caffeine, cause I will not fest tonight.

I'm getting out of this chair now. Another mega-rambling comes to an end.