And suddenly, it's like, on.
Posted Dec 16, 2015
For what felt like the past 12 months or more I was unable to sign into h2g2. It just never worked. I could read, but not write. And then one afternoon, in fact it was yesterday, all was normal again and I got back in. Sweet.
No pressure, eh?
Posted May 22, 2013
In an unprecedented move to increase pressure by increasing publicity, I hereby announce that I just had my first job interview in Norwegian and that I am more than just slightly excited about the prospect of possibly moving to Norway by August.
Last Post on BBC - A Happy One
Posted Sep 22, 2011
Well, who knows if this really is my last post under the BBC rule. But no matter, here comes the HAPPY bit.
On Friday, Sep.16, at 17:41 German Time, Little Miss Y entered the world. Little Miss Y was born after 29 hours of labour, eyes looking up towards the skies (such babies are called Stargazers in German), weighing in at 3.5 kg and stretching out to 52 cm.
Every single moment since then she has brought us bliss and magic. And oddly colored diapers and high levels of bilirubin (they call it neonatal jaundice, I guess). The diaper situation will continue for a while, the bili levels will, hopefully, be down by next weekend. The joy and bliss and magic will never go away.
Posted Nov 3, 2008
So I have been out of touch for a long time and now I am slipping back into life. I would like to say that I am doing so slowly and carefully, but as it turns out, there is no slow way. Careful I may try to be, though.
I had been on sick leave for suffering from depressions, and now I am back at work. I am a teacher in training - "Referendar" - and have returned to school. One of my first tasks there was to find me learner groups that I would be teaching. As a teacher in training, I actually should have my own classes as well as classes where I accompany the regular teacher. With respect to my being out of touch - and to my vulnerability to stress due to these depressions, however, I do not now have my own classes. But I was very lucky in finding nice classes and nice pupils and nice teachers.
So tomorrow, November 4th, I will resume my teaching activities. Which ought to be exciting, but right now the thought of it fills me with dread. Not least because my "Ausbilder" (training supervisor?) will be there as well, ready to judge on everything I do.
Well, and instead of finalizing my preparations for tomorrow, I am here, writing this down. A case for "go figure"? I would rather think, a case of "I don't want to bother you with all this crap, but I am going to, anyway, because I am, firstly, happy to write it down so that it is no longer only in my head. Secondly, I hope that I will be able to think more clearly once all this is written down - and thus, as it were, written out of my head. And thirdly, of course, I am writing this because I am hoping to get virtual hugs."
Now... If I were to analyze my emotions now, what would I get? I am angry about having wasted so much time all weekend not getting all prepared. I am scared that this is a deja vu sort of thing - did not this wasting time business get me deeper into my depressions, in the first place? In other words, am I still on those destructive patterns? I am furthermore confused about this fear: if I am aware of these patterns, could that not also mean that I *have* made progress? On top of that, I am positive that going back to school was the right decision.
And as I am thinking all this, in comes the Lady of the Mice with a glass of mulled mead she made for me, and this makes me almost want to cry. To be so absorbed in thinking about myself, while she extends a kind of unexpected tenderness towards me - I feel loved.
Coming Out - Sorta
Posted Jul 24, 2008
This feels like a sort of coming-out for me. Not in THAT sense. For any who might be worried: this is not about sexuality
No, there is something completely else that has dominated my life in the last year or so, and only this spring did it actually surface. All this... this sense of going nowhere, of being stupid, of having no future but a future that is threatening. All this not being able to concentrate, not being able to do my work, of not being able to enjoy. To enjoy anything.
But even as I am writing this I realize that I am trying to formulate nice sentences, to be "artistic" - to be a writer of sorts, and it distracts me from what I meant to write. So here it is:
I suffer from depressions.
There, was easy as pie (3.14 or something).
In spring this year, I was hospitalized for about a month in a clinic for all sorts of psychological illnesses, with the official diagnosis of an acute episode of depression. The weeks leading up to this had been marked by a decline in almost everything. The climax, I felt, was when I was driving up to the place where I work(ed?), and not being able to go inside, but sitting in the car for what seemed like hours and then going to the Argentur für Arbeit (state employment agency), just to look at jobs that I could - or could not ever - get. And then pretending that, still, everything was fine, that this is normal. Not telling anyone. Thinking noone would notice.
Boy, it is not normal.
I was immediately ordered to come to my boss's office, and there I broke down. Almost literally. I was ready to just quit everything right there (not quit my life, but all that has to do with my employment). Looking back now, I actually have to be thankful to my boss that she told me right there to go to a doctor and get myself a sick certificate, rather than firing me on the spot.
Telling my wife about how bad it had become for me, and thus admitting how much I had been hiding from her, was even worse than facing my boss. I did a lot of crying at that time.
My doctor advised me to go to a hospital (i.e. a mental clinic), and I did. Went on medication, too.
Well, that was in May, this year. Now I am back home, feeling better, but still deeply insecure about my future. In my therapy sessions I am seeing how much there is in my life that I feel insecure about, things I want to change, things from my past that I now see led me to where I am at right now. The whole shebang of family, growing up, friendships (and the lack thereof), of feeling out of place, of trying to be what I thought others wanted me to be rather than ever thinking about what I really want to be.
So tonight I will go to a support-group meeting for the first time. My stay at the hospital taught me the value of seeing that I am not the only one who feels the way I do.
Well, anyway, now it is out in the open, and it feels good to publicly (kinda) come out this way.