Just feeling sorry for myself, nothing to read here

Tonight, I’ll pretend that I don’t have a bunch of new readers, like my mother, like people who don’t know me well whom I hope could have a favorable impression of me, and like Facebook readers who never asked to hear exactly what’s in my head. For new readers, I’ll repeat what I’ve said a bunch of times before, which is that I used to have various journal platforms for these kinds of thoughts, but I can tend to lose my inhibitions and just throw those thoughts up here.

I just had my worst day at work in over two years. I had to put something into production today, and that usually happens on a Saturday. I thought there might be a few minor problems, but, in general, I thought I had done a great job of developing this custom module that would allow us to do a way with another annoying app. It’s ironic, because the-powers-that-be are always stressing going “out-of-the-box” but they had no problem scrapping a mostly out-of-the-box app for something that is total custom development, that, for all intensive purposes, I’m the only one who can really support it. In reality, the-powers-that-be don’t really understand that platform I work on at all, and don’t have any idea what the difference between “configuration” and “development” is. Nor do they appreciate at all that they have a developer with 11 years of experience who does understand this.

Anyway, I was pretty sure that there would be a few data hiccups in migrating from one system to another, and I thought it was understood that this could happen, and we’d iron out these problems within a couple of days of launching. However, as testing revealed that some data wasn’t right, even though I knew exactly how to fix it, the-powers-that-be decided that if they couldn’t trust that it was all 100% accurate, we’d have to roll back. Logically, from the point of view to someone who doesn’t understand the app at all, which is everyone involved in today’s implementation except for me, there could be a distrust that any percentage of the data was wrong. But I knew otherwise, that these data problems were isolated and quickly fixable.

I take these things very personally, even though I am always told not to. The only thing worthwhile I do with my life is whatever I get done at work. When I’m pretty sure that I’ve done an A- job on something but I know it’s perceived as a D, it’s incredibly demoralizing.
I mean, what the hell else do I have going for me?

As far as my career is concerned, I am completely trapped in this niche, of which I think I’m somewhat of an expert. And yet, my judgement is also questioned, and the powers-that-be don’t even bother to ask for my input on the direction of our app, content to ask the advice of the vendor, who knows nothing of our environment and is only interested in selling us services that we can’t afford.

I so wish that I could afford to live on what disability would pay. The stress I get from my job is going to kill me, in conjunction with my shitty kidneys and unrelenting depression.

Oh, did I just mention the D word? Not dialysis…depression…which I make a passing reference to every now and then in here. Since my mother reads this, or, rather, in spite of the fact that she reads this, because this may be an unfair comment to make, it’s always infuriated me how much focus she’s placed on how I should deal with my kidney disease…endless emails and encyclopedias of information…what to avoid eating and doing…while all along…it’s been crystal clear to me that if I have a premature death, it’s is not going to be due to kidney disease but due to depression.

I realize a statement like that makes people very uncomfortable. People can sorta figure out to say to the guy on dialysis with kidney disease. But the guy who’s depressed? People want to stay away from that guy.

And how I got onto depression when I was talking/ranting about work, I don’t know.

Let’s go for the gold, while I’m at it, while I don’t care how inappropriate any of this is to say publicly.

Anyone care to know just how bad the depression can get? No, not really, Toastie. Well, please, by all means, stop reading now. This is your warning. YOU DON’T NEED TO READ ANY FURTHER.

So I recently unearthed an email I sent to one the various mental health professionals who have failed to be of much help over the years. I’ll just say this was written sometime in the last five years:

Subject: Urgent Help needed

Hi ____________,

I am writing rather than doing absolutely nothing as a course of
action for my depression. I have been in what I consider an absolute
depression for a couple of days now. I suppose if it were truly
absolute, I could not even be writing this email.

I’m not suicidal, if suicidal means there is a danger I am going to
physically harm myself. I don’t see the use in doing anything that
would result in me being at the ER or being locked up in a psych ward.

But I’m hardly functioning. I am not at work today. I am not taking
care of myself. –

Clearly the medication I take now does not prevent these “episodes”. I
cannot imagine any medications or therapies that would do me any good.
There is no reason to believe that you would suddenly have a magical
solution as opposed to any other point during the last many years.

But I have to tell someone if there is any remote chance that there is
help available. And you’re my doctor. So I am telling you. Do we need
to zap my brain? What do you do with the suicidal patients? I’m almost
sure I am just as depressed as they are, without the small problem of
being on the verge of trying to kill myself.

I’d call, but that means leaving an awkward message with ________,
who may or may not get you the message. In fact, I did just
that back [a few months ago], in which I practically begged to have you see
me sooner than our next scheduled appointment, and I didn’t hear back
from you. I didn’t bring it up again, because if I burn bridges with
you, I am completely without options.

Inappropriate blogging. Yup. I just don’t care right now. I may regret it tomorrow. I’ve made posts before that I’ve later put behind a password or just made private, and I might just do that with this post. Or maybe I won’t.

If I have given anyone the impression recently that ANYTHING is ok, I intentionally wish to shatter it right now. Not that I expect anyone to have any words of wisdom. Not that I expect that I won’t lose readers over this.

The blog will say ‘no comments’. I don’t know how to prevent comments on the Facebook feed.

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