If you thought 2022 was a bad year for me, 2023 wasn’t much better.
Wed. Jan 4th, I smoked my last joint. In the last few months of 2022 I was greening out after every smoke. I had enough so I quit.
Tues. Feb 14th, I had my last drink. Not that I ever did have more than one drink a year anyways. No more for me until I find a place, preferable south of the boarder, that knows how to make a proper Negroni.
When 2023 started I did away with all my close friends. Blocked those who were on FaceBook and blocked others that tried to call and text. I had reasons for each beyond just not being able to be there for anyone any more. I had friends coming to me that normally have their own shit together (you know the middle class citizens, home owners, multi vehicles, recreational toys, vacationing every year, full time jobs kind of people). I just wanted to get away from everyone and crawl under a rock and die.
At the end of Jan. I had another police escort to the hospital for another suicide attempt. Unfortunately my subconscious has a will to live and I wasn’t able to go through with it. Our healthcare system is a joke. The ER doctor told me I got three mins to explain my situation. After which I was given the opportunity to go visit the psych word or go home. Of course I chose to go home so I could try again and again and again, hoping I would succeed at some point. But, while waiting for that ER doctor the cop and I talked. He was my age, military background, and a couple of kids. Normal guy. Wish I could make normal friends like him under different circumstances. Anyway, he got me thinking about what I used to do in the 1990’s and who I was hanging out with back then. I reached out via FaceBook to one of the military guys I used to hang around with and haven’t even seen since the 1990’s. I asked him how the military trained them to deal with multiple deaths. He hadn’t changed in over 20yrs, his reply was sex. I stopped talking with him as soon as he brought it up.
By late Feb. I had enough of staying in bed and not being able to die. I also wasn’t satisfied with my doctor’s December answer of going on disability so I asked her if I could have a second opinion and for a referral for a real psychological diagnosis. Turns out I have BPD, several forms of anxiety, depression and grief. But, our lovely healthcare system is so backed up that there are no shrinks available for me to see to get help, not even a waiting list for me to be added to. The doctor that made the diagnosis said she would write a letter so I could go on disability but she never did. She said I could try and keep on working but with my BPD I would always have the same results. I had three more appointments with that doctor, she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to kill myself. She did suggest a new medication. I started it. I started to feel better, not so many wondering and negative thoughts.
I started applying to every job that I thought I could do, I even had several interviews. I finally landed an office job doing accounting type work. I got comfortable at work and shared what I went through over the past two years. It got back to my boss. I got fired two weeks before my three month anniversary. My 30 & 60 day reviews were great. I didn’t see it coming. What a kick in the teeth. I went down without fighting. I had no fight left in me.
I started applying for jobs again. I knew that if I just lasted 2.5 months I could go even longer at the next job I found. I attended several interviews. Two of which looked promising. One I got hired for. I am now a cashier. As with all new jobs they start off great, I love the learning of a new position. At first there was no drama and co-worker were all great. After two months some are getting on my nerves now, especially my immediate manager, so I usually skip her and go talk to the store owner. Customers have been good to me too. Only one “Karen” and I told her to go to another cashier. I’ve only had two incidents where I’ve tried to quit but I managed to salvage my position both times before permanent damage was done.
There is no cure for BPD/Anxiety/Depression/Grief. At least my new meds seem to make me want to live (most of the time) and I no longer think of ways to die everyday like I was at the beginning of 2023. Part of what helped get me to this point, in my opinion, was that during the winter/spring of 2023 I attended another writers group at the library. I will praise the healing powers of the library any way I can, as long as I can! I started a new story while there. The instructor challenged me not to write in first person this time so I’m thoroughly enjoying that challenge! I’m still not writing everyday but I think I’m going to let that notation drop in the new year. Just because everyone says I need to write everyday to be a writer, that doesn’t make it a rule. Or does it? Anyway, who am I to never break a rule? That’s what I do best!
I will publish more books!
I won’t write everyday!
I will not have an author platform of various social media accounts to worry about keeping up!
I will not have short stories and poems published in magazines and anthologies before my novels so that people can get to know my style!
I will bring back and be a part of authors doing public readings from podiums!
I will bring back and be a part author tours and I will travel the circuit!
I will either get published by the big 5 or I will own my own publishing company and become the big 6th!
Look out 2024 – HERE I COME!
TJ Baker - Writer 