And it's the beginning of another week where I'm trying to psych myself up enough to get through the same old rut I feel that I'm in.  I do need a change, and I will try to work toward it.  Nothing as drastic as my sister who's quitting her job, moving twice in the next two months, and basically turning her entire life upside down, but enough that I improve my current situation.

I decided this back in January, but between the break-ins, stress fallout, and possible diagnosis of ANOTHER lifelong condition, my timeline got overwhelmed.  Now that I'm more comfortable with my window gate and managing stress a bit better, it's time to get back to work. 

Change is always scary, and most people do feel that way, but sometimes there are motivators that override the natural caution and inertia and push you into action. I'm hoping that my resolve holds in the short term.  I'm hoping that this really will be a positive change I can maintain for the longer term.   I've failed before, but the only way to truly fail is to give up trying forever and I'm not ready to admit total defeat yet.

I still have a lot to give to the world; I still have many things going for me that I've worked hard to obtain.  I still have the capacity to expand my life and experiences without sacrificing things I need.  I'm working on the motivation.  It's taken 3 months of setbacks and stress, but I'm ready to try for health again.

I'm one of the people that loves thunderstorms.  I've known many, even in the city, who are scared of lightning, huddling under awnings when no other shelter is available and clinging to the perception of safety.  I revel in the power and savagery, walking home through the downpour in the open even without an umbrella.  Clothes will dry; the exhilaration I feel from the electricity in the air is something to be treasured.  Even inside I'll get closest to the nearest window to watch the storm unfold in all its fury.

The same impulse seems to be tied to risk-taking.  Those who are like me often are willing to ride the wildest rollercoasters, swim into the deepest waters, and yearn to experience that rush of adrenaline that can't be mimicked in many other ways.  Yet I've learned to draw the line.  There are the semi-innocent thrills where you know you're safe as on rollercoasters with safety bars or swimming out with a lifeguard there.  Then there are the truly dangerous thrills I try to steer away from now, like coming home late at night on vacation and swimming out into the ocean at 1 am with no one knowing.  Times when I would stand at the edge, sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally, just to know that rush and that I would stand up to it.

I'm trying to be more conservative with these, and remind myself what's a safe rush and what a normal person would consider out of bounds.  Somewhere along the way I misplaced my sense of self-preservation and I'm trying to get it back.  I believe it will come since I've made so much progress, but in the meantime I'll be content with the thrill of a thunderstorm.

I'm trying to be patient.  I'm trying to be in control.  I'm not necessarily succeeding in each but at least I'm trying.  I'm not one of the participation award generation; when I was growing up it was merit that counted until I realized that intelligence and ability isn't necessarily rewarded, but at least it gave you a chance to stand out in the right milieu. 

Things are hard again but not as bad as it has been in the recent past.  I just hope that things get better.  For now that's all I can say.

Sometimes I really don't understand how normal people go through life.  I seem to be hyper almost everything.  I process everything faster than most others, I have trouble sleeping because I'm hypersensitive to noises, and I seem to feel and notice things that the average person doesn't in a normal life.  Some of it has worked in my favor, particularly in academics and later in my jobs since I can do twice the work at the same high quality.  No one really can keep up with me, particularly because I also have a hyper memory that reminds me where I found the answer 2 years ago.

Of course there are the negative hyper things.  Sleeping is very difficult for me even with earplugs (I joke that the best gift my neighbor ever gave me was when he was out of town for 2 weeks over Christmas), and I desperately need to get decent sleep or it starts weighing on me physically and mentally more than others.  Add sleep deprivation to the normal stress of my job and it's not a pretty picture.  Often I can't get my brain to shut down because of that hyper intelligence and memory which can be a special torture in and of itself.

Mostly I've made some sort of peace with this since it's pretty obvious I'm stuck with this for life, but so often I wish I could be a little more normal.  A little more socially inclined since sometimes I intimidate people with my speed and intelligence.  I'm tense all the time, which anyone who tries to give me a massage ALWAYS remarks on, since my muscles are basically as pliant as wood. There are worse things, I know, and I'm doing ok, but sometimes I want a break. I just want to be normal and able to relax without a racing mind.

Life seems like some sort of screwed up see-saw where you never know if you'll hit the regular balance or your playmate will jump off at the bottom and send you bone-jarringly crashing to the ground.  Or if you will jump off and crash the person on the other end of the see-saw.  Sometimes I have such an urge just to let others fall, particularly bankers that have been continual pains to me despite giving them every effort in the past.  There are some that come across as generally untrustworthy, or more often there's a veneer of civility with an undertone of contempt for my skills and others' skills who they see as simple support staff, despite the fact that without our support they would crash and burn when it counted.  We're known as support staff for a very good reason.

Of course being in the background can allow me to observe many things that I think happens in every industry, but for whatever reason banking seems to exacerbate every tendency, good or bad.  For those in it just for 1-3 years, making big bonuses and looking forward to the windfall that comes from putting in 100 hour weeks and getting rewarded for it, and they are generally decent human beings.  They pay their dues and move on, usually to a decent job elsewhere riding the name of LIB but retaining humanity.  Some hang on a bit longer, but in the end can't reconcile having no outside life with the desire for more, which I completely understand.

There are the ones who are looking to springboard as soon as possible to private equity or hedge funds, who have perfected that veneer I mentioned and are looking for quick scores, immediate notoriety by pushing harder than others, and expecting no one to see through  it.  These are the ones that glibly glide through the bank pretending to care about the work, but you know someday they will likely fit well into the private company shark tank and take no prisoners.

Then there are the careers.  They start on the bottom of the totem, put in the time, schmooze and flatter those who are their bosses and bosses' bosses and know where they're headed.  They are generally decent people after the first few years' initiation into VP+ and realize what can be gained by treating even us lowly peons well since we can grease the skids from being around longer than most of the bankers, but don't necessarily look down on us.  Sometimes.  There's some invisible barrier they cross from mid-boss to top boss where they forget your name or are so removed from the work we put in that they don't recognize our contributions anymore.  Exceptions do exist, but they prove the rule.

And then there are the ones I feel for the most.  Those who enter thinking they can handle it, but end up woefully unprepared for the abuse from the upper level bosses, the 100 hour weeks sleeping under their desks or anywhere they can find some quiet space to pass out for a few hours, and the unrelenting demand for face time in the bullpen.  Honestly, they weren't suited for the environment, but being told that this is the golden path to riches and/or fame they took the chance anyway.  Usually in 6 months to 2 years (at the maximum) they leave under various circumstances.  Some have actually gone to work for nonprofits to get away from the guilt over working in banking which in many cases is working on screwing the average investor and corporation as much as possible while maximizing our profits.  Some I will never know what happened to them, but I wish them well in my mind.

It's an odd vantage I have into this microcosm of the real world, particularly since I've been there since 2006, through the crisis and the aftermath, observing, sometimes agonizing, but sticking with it because there really are opportunities here I couldn't get elsewhere despite my low pay grade. I guess that's why I stay.  I've seen literally hundreds of bankers come and go, know the types to a degree, and still marvel at how the industry works so dysfunctionally from a human perspective and yet continues to thrive. Would I perpetuate it if I had the chance to eradicate it from the world?  Not in a million years.  But am I in for the long term? Most likely now that I have developed my skills and know the landscape, I suppose it's in for a penny, in for, well, 2 ounces since they can't afford a pound for me.  In the meantime, I will watch and try to focus on those bankers who still have the ability to see me as a talented human, not a commodity.

It's amazing to me how sometimes just dealing with daily life, even knowing the much greater difficulties that most of the rest of the world and even our country, can drain you.  Yes, I've had a relatively hard few months.  Yes, things have not been going well overall.  But for the past two weeks every day has been a struggle to wake up, make an effort to work somewhere near the midpoint of my expertise at work (not even close to peak right now), and try not to fall asleep at my desk.  I settle for closing my eyes up to 10 minutes at a time.

Partly it's because I'm still captain of my pool team, and for the past three weeks we haven't finished until 12:30-1 am, so even starting Tuesday I'm exhausted.  Partly it's the lack of fresh air in my apartment since I don't dare open my window until I get my window gate installed because of the break-ins.  And again, it's still my neighbor who currently is hooting and clapping like a freaking monkey.  I'll put in my earplugs tonight as always, and yet even when I wake up in the morning, he'll be starting to stomp and slam doors.

Somedays I wish that I had the courage (or stupidity) to blast my TV and radio and cause noise and bother that would equal his, but I'm older and hopefully wiser.  Escalating anything, be it violence or annoyance can seriously come back to bite you, even though I have seniority in the building, but oh lord, it can be tempting.  However, considering that level of noise involves literally having my sounds audible throughout the entire second floor outside my door and sometimes to the lobby, it's not something I would do as a normal tenant to the building's residents.  Normal noise, fine; obnoxious din, no.

At least tomorrow's halfway through the week.  There may be a window gate, there may not, but I think I can try to rest and reset myself physically and emotionally.  I hope.

Sometimes you feel you have no control over anything.  I went to see a neurologist today, was 100% honest about my history and the stresses I've been under, and yet left with a diagnosis of "You are probably causing it" and "Because of your history it's psychosomatic."  Oh, good to know that it's all in my head when I can't hold a pen without tremors and drawing a straight line seems to be a thing of the past.  His advice is to follow up with my psychiatrist and get a psychotherapist.

I understand the bias of doctors toward patients with a co-morbid mental illness; it's not a comfortable topic for those of us who deal with it every day either but we are left with no choice, and have to deal with the caution we see and hear when we are honest about our health, mental and otherwise.  Because of greater stated acceptance of mental disorders from the medical community I find there are getting to be two types of doctors.  The first does understand what a burden we deal with and can be very helpful and sympathetic concerning our unique issues compared to the general population.  To them it truly is a disease like any physiological condition with certain sets of symptoms and medications that must be managed as best as possible.

The other type try to follow the new acceptance pattern, but basically pay lip service to "the terrible problem I have" and how I need to "address this problem before anything else can be done."  I am not a walking problem that has to be pushed out the door as soon as possible, I'm a walking human being that has physical issues at this point regardless of my mental history!  Please do not belittle me.  I get enough of that in my life already when people find out that I have depression, and as a medical professional I expect better, particularly working in neurology where many patients with Parkinson's also suffer from depression as a result of their symptoms (and there may be a causal link between the two; there's no certain answer on that yet, but research is being done).

Lately it's been harder than normal to care for myself as I should with the intense stress of the deaths and the break-ins, so I sat on the subway shaking and trying not to cry from 168th St. to 42nd as I'm heading to work after the appointment, realizing I'm pretty much on my own. It's not the end.  I will try to figure this out with or without medical help, but this was so far from what I expected that I'm horribly disappointed in the system. It's time to sleep well, try to eat well, and take care of myself despite everything, and try to let go of the resentment.

I haven't been inspired to post lately, mostly due to exhaustion.  Perhaps I'll get back to it soon, but I need to get some rest and hopefully manage to take care of some things I've left outstanding while dealing with all of this crap.