Sweating The Summer Heat

Thankfully, all of the weather prediction services were more-or-less right about the end of last week’s heatwave. Unfortunately, as I mused at the time, the official end of the heatwave took only it’s obscenely high temperatures. The otherwise toasty high temperatures and still kinda high low temperatures have stuck around, always overshooting the day-to-day forecasts so that every single day winds up hotter, more humid, and much less comfortable than expected. It has made occupying space in my apartment a bit more tricky than usual because even something as innocuous as making dinner can put a lot of heat in my apartment that my AC unit just can’t handle on top of the day-to-day heat of summer and sunshine. I don’t remember my AC unit struggling this much in the past, but it’s certainly possible that it is genuinely working less well now than it used to. I’ve had old AC units die on me in apartments before and I know that the more heavily they’re used, the faster they wear out and the layout of my current apartment demands heavy use if I’m going to actually control the temperature in any space other than right next to my AC unit. All of which amounts to me starting to sweat most days when I’m in my office, playing games on my computer. Maybe I should spend less time in my office where there’s no good airflow and two large heat generators in a small space (me and my computer), but it’s difficult to imagine that my upstairs room where all my entertainment stuff is located will be much better when I can feel the heat swamp me every time I move around that room.

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The Endless Road To Recovery

It has been over a year since I went from “struggling” to “barely getting by” in terms of my personal health. A year ago, I was on vacation with my siblings and struggling to get enough sleep due to back pain from a mix of how a medicaiton I was taking messed with my joints and how my old, worn-out mattress had negatively impacted my back (which had only become apparent when I was trying to sleep on a not-horrible mattress). Things pretty much only got worse from then until mid-October, where they slowly reached a degree of stasis they stayed at until early January. Since early January, my physical and mental health have been variably up and down as I’ve dealt with more new medications, physically intensive work at my job, long days, too-short nights, and a general feeling of isolation that has left me wondering why I even bother with all of this stuff. I’ve written more posts about how I’m slowly improving than I care to count and this one was initially going to be no different. Things are improving, sure. I’m feeling a bit less tired than usual and while I’m more uncomfortable than ever as a result of the high temperatures and trying to change a sleep schedule I’ve more-or-less maintained for most of my life (at least two decades), I do think things are getting better. I don’t know if they’ll stay that way, if they’ll improve further, or if something else will crop up that has me feeling worse again, but I can’t help but feel like I’m trying to climb some kind of trick staircase that has me constantly feeling like I’m moving forward while I never actually get any further from the bottom.

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Waking Up On The Wrong Side Of Dawn

For almost… Probably two decades as of this year, actually, I’ve been getting up at six in the morning for work. Or, you know, whatever counts as work. That’s when I needed to get up in high school in order to get there on time, regardless of how I was getting there. In college, I almost always had a class at eight in the morning and, for a couple years, had an opening shift at the tech support desk in the library. Even on the days my class schedule was different, I still got up at more or less the same time unless it was specifically a day off or that was at the end of the week and didn’t have an 8am class. After I graduated, it was just easier to keep that same schedule going. I kept it going without issue until the pandemic rolled around. 2020 killed my ability to easily get up at the same time every morning and turned me from an easy early-riser who was always in bed and asleep by midnight into the current cluster-fuck of a sleep schedule I’m unfortunately maintaining to this day. For a while there in 2020 and 2021, I was waking up at whatever time every other week since I was only working every-other-week at my job and struggled to maintain a consistent time on the weeks I had work. I eventually got that under control again, around the time I started having insomnia issues and needed to structure my sleep better, and maintained that until last year. Then, last year, thanks to all the pain I was and how it ruined my ability to sleep last fall, I started letting myself sleep in a bit more so I could make sure to always get at least four hours of sleep. While I would let myself move my alarm time as much as I felt I needed, the default time that I always returned to was six. Always. Now, though, after some more developments at work along the same frustrating lines as the last ones, I’m throwing decades of history aside and setting my alarm an hour earlier. I’ve already had one miserable morning up an hour earlier as of writing this and I’ll have another five at minimum by the time you read this, so hopefully I’ll know if it’s working by then.

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A Self-Sustaining Writing Process Might Also Be A Runaway Writing Process

One of the most common but also most useless creativity tips I’ve even been given, given to someone else, or seen literally anywhere is “you just gotta do it!” I’m incredibly guilty of giving that one out, even if I do try to couch it in terms of building discipline and creating a routine you can rely on. It all boils down to “just do the thing!” in the end. It’s not a very good explanation and building it piecemeal via the whole “make time to write every day, and slowly challenge yourself to write more in that time or expand that time so you can create more” is a bit more helpful, but it ultimately doesn’t really do much beyond make you capable of the mechanics of the work you’re doing. Generally, you need some kind of goal or target to inform why you’re creating in the first place since just wanting to create (or to have created) isn’t always enough to push you through the difficulty of forming good creative habits. You need something that speaks to you or that creates drive within you to help you over that hump. Once you’re in the habit, though, it gets a lot easier. Discipline will carry you as long as you maintain it and maintaining it is so much easier than building it. Unfortuantely, you might wind up in a situation like me where you’re maintaining your discipline just to keep your discipline working rather than because you’re trying to make progress towards a specific goal and you wind up writing just because you are in the habit. The habit fuels itself and its own maintenance, even if the larger purpose it once served is no longer there.

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Burnout And The Joy(lessness) of Creation

I haven’t actually enjoyed writing these blog posts in a long time. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that in any of my posts reflecting on my current burnout or creative process or whatever. I don’t really enjoy doing these. I don’t dislike writing them and I do still get a sense of satisfaction out of writing them, but I haven’t really felt the joy of writing in a while now. I’ve done it because I’ve felt the need, to help figure out what’s going on in my head, and to provide myself with a sense of satisfaction after a day largely devoid of anything resembling that. But I haven’t felt any of the joy or passion I once I did. I’ll be the first to say that it’s better to rely on discipline than passion or inspiration since discipline will never abandon you like passion and inspiration might, but I think it’s worth considering that enough discipline will also enable you to actively harm yourself if you force yourself to keep performing past the point where your body is telling you to stop. I don’t think I’m there yet, but I can’t deny that my burnout hasn’t gotten any better in months or years and that I just don’t really enjoy any of my creative pursuits anymore these days.

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Weary After A Weekend Of Not Enough Rest Despite My Best Efforts

This past weekend (as of writing this a week-ish before it gets posted) was not as restful as I would have liked. Between the on-going but slowly dimishing symptoms of my antidepressant withdrawal and the absolutely debilitating emotional journey of the Final Fantasy 14 content I was playing, I am going into my final day of “a restful weekend” feeling like I’ve gotten even less sleep than usual. I know that this is the fatigue from the withdrawal compounding what would have been an emotionally draining weekend no matter what, but it still sucks to have so thoroughly overestimated how much I could handle. I mean, I barely did any chore, spent most of my time sitting around in my apartment or trying to cool off my office without turning my AC on, and slept as much as I could, but I’m still starting this Tuesday even more tired than I started my weekend. All of the socializing in-game probably didn’t help, since social interaction has been incredibly draining during this period of withdrawal. It also didn’t help that I went through two heavy days of emotionally draining (in a good way) story quests in Shadowbringers and then followed that up immediately by getting absolutely wrecked by a side-quest (in a bad way) before pushing through it to do some social activities that were fun in the moment but were probably not a wise thing for me to do at that point. I had the distinct thought that I should probably shut the game down early and spend some time dealing with the experience I’d had and instead chose to avoid that and only shut down the game when the maintenance was about to start.

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Dwindling Daydreams Of Just Less Work Are All I’ve Got Left At My Day Job

Sometimes, as I’m standing at my desk and sweating while I try to focus on my dumb little tasks on days that I’m feeling particularly frustrated with my job, I let my mind wander through potential futures or alternate timelines. Twelve years ago, when I graduated college, I had very different plans for my life. I’d spent the four years of my college education finding out what I was interested in, what I was good at, and what I cared about, and planned to eventually return to scholastic pursuits so I could earn myself an advanced degree in some kind of writing thing and eventually further that with some kind of further degree focused on medievalism or the development of language or something. I was going to work for a few years, pay off my student loans by the time I was thirty, go back for more education, and spend my life burying myself in my beloved writing and research and education (of myself and then of others). That, of course, didn’t happen, but my dream of living a life of telling stories lasted until pretty recently and now I find myself adrift with no future I’m really working toward beyond being debt-free, no attachments to my present (geographic or occupational) and so I wonder what kind of life I might be living if I hadn’t been shackled by debt or might yet live should I find a way to remove my need to spend most of my time and energy on being a cog in a machine that does not value me.

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The End Of My Ceaseless Exhaustion Is Hopefully In Sight

After three months of miserable side-effects, unending exhaustion, and sleepiness that dominated my every waking moment, I’ve finally hit the end of my “wait it out” period for the antidepressant my doctor recommended. I had some small improvement from it at the highest dose I took, but I was also so tired on it that I’d be falling asleep every afternoon even when I was sleeping a minimum of seven and a half hours. Which, you know, wasn’t exactly a viable outcome for me. It took me a couple weeks to even recognize that the medication was having a positive effect on me because I was just too tired to feel anything but nigh-overwhelming exhaustion. It was a bit of a lateral move rather than an improvement or worsening of my general well-being, but I can work through feeling incredibly depressed and I cannot work through exhaustion that complete, as I learned throughout the last three months. It never quite got bad enough to actually make me mess up at work, but I also took a lot of vacation time during the peak of the exhaustion and I had plans for that time later this year. So it wasn’t great but I got through it, told my doctor it wasn’t working for me at any dose, and now I’m officially on the “slowly wean off the antipressant” path. As of this blog post going up, I’m one week away from my last dose of it and what will hopefully be the end of my constant sleepiness.

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I’d Rather Let My Coworkers Waste Our Time Than Bail Us Out Of A Horrible Meeting

I had a testers meeting last week. It was a bit impromtu, but such meetings usually are. My little team of testers is only three people these days, and while we do have an obvious senior tester who should be in charge, he’s not really the commanding sort. The next most senior tester, who has a few years in the job at the company on me (but I might have more total years testing thanks to my job before this one) and is the same “rank” as me tends to be the one to call the meetings. Usually because he’s got a lot of work coming up and knows he’ll need some help from someone else because our lab assistant (who usually helps him) won’t be available or because it takes a degree of expertise the lab assistant lacks. It helps him to sit down and talk through all this stuff when he needs more than just one-off help, which is why he calls most of these meetings. My other coworker and I just call on each other as needed and talk through that kind of stuff on a day-to-day basis, but we share a great deal of expertise and can ask each other to do things without worrying about how well it’ll get done. Which, unfortunately, is not something we can expect from this other guy since he has done his best to avoid learning anything about the deeper aspects of our testing over the years whereas all three of us are fairly proficient in most of his testing. Beyond that, we also have status update meetings from time to time, just to get together and talk about what’s going on and what’s coming up, but we haven’t done any of those meetings in a while because it has been pretty much the same stuff going on for over a year at this point.

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Getting Back To Work And Thinking About The Future

I’ve been taking it easy for about a month now. Maybe a little more than. After we found out that the final release meeting of my project got delayed until just this past week (as this gets posted), I decided to take my long put-off week of vacation. I unfortunately did it after a full day of work on a Monday, but I still got a decent week away from work by taking the next Monday off. Since then, I’ve been dealing with the fallout of pushing myself as hard as I did and my current medication-induced exhaustion, all of which means that I’ve been avoiding overtime in my work weeks. Mostly by taking days off every week, forcing myself to avoid even doing the “here’s how much overtime I could get” calculous because I can’t get overtime until I’ve got 40 non-PTO hours allocated to a week and I’m not going to work eight “extra” hours without getting my overtime pay. It’d be better to just not use the vacation time in the first place. Anyway, I’ve taken at least one day off each week, mostly dictated by my messed up sleep schedule, overwhelming exhaustion, or my poor physical health. I expected, initially, that I was only going to take it easy for the first two weeks, the ones involving my planned week-off of work, but something has come up every single week since then that has left me with one or more days where I could not force myself into the office.

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