Update for the week ending on November 22nd
- I posted a few times to my blog!
- Got around to reading the hard mode philosophy for Habitica, and I feel like I've really ingrained it into my use of it and that it's helped.
- I utterly bombed the on-site with Chronicled. I felt like I was under qualified and due to my psychosis, I convinced myself that they were just humoring me for some reason? Like, they had no intention of offering me the job, and it was somehow a joke? So...I just left, part way through. I at least emailed explaining partially why.
- I passed the second technical round with RaiseMe, with the interviewer again having wonderful things to say about me, apparently. However, they passed on me, and invited me to stay in touch for future positions they'll be opening next year. On the one hand, definitely, yeah, still interested. On the other, what am I going to do until then?
- Scheduled on-site interview with Wayfair. Fingers crossed this position goes through.
- Followed up with Internet Brands about the position at Avvo; it's been two weeks since I completed their written technical.
- Reached out to a recruitment agency and updated them about my status.
- Re-introduced R to Linux and he likes it! “It's so clean and I feel so in control.” This makes me disproportionately happy, you have no idea.
- I've been able to be in public several times now without feeling like people are talking about me. Sudden laughter is still a trigger, and I almost always give whoever is laughing the evil eye. So I think the medication adjustment has been good. The interview with Chronicled kind of proves I need to go up though, and luckily my psychiatrist built that into our last adjustment; he wrote the script for 6mg and said I could start with 4mg until I felt like I needed the third pill. He's been super respectful of how I don't want to feel “medicated.”
- Sleep has still been a trial.
- I deliberately meditated in order to force myself to let myself feel. It was difficult. There's literally a lifetime of feeling like there's a broken bone deep in my gut, something that makes me less than human and capable of monstrous acts. I'm numb to the pain most of the time, but it still affects me. I can't come on to someone without feeling like I'm assaulting them. I can't outright disagree unless I'm pissed beyond reason. I couch my arguments with “I think” and “I feel.” One of my earliest memories is crying under a table and chanting, “God made a mistake,” and being sure I was a monster. The pieces of this broken bone are constantly grinding against each other, and I don't know how to fix it.