I've gotten to leave early most days from work over these past few weeks since we've been so slow, but I know better than to expect it to continue. I can't become too complacent relying on enough people to actually handle the number of requests.  On a very positive note,  I've picked up my sewing kit for the first time in years. I'm finally getting some time to read more than an hour consecutively.  I'm catching up on some of the things I've neglected and creating some order out of the chaos that has overtaken my life over the past few years. I still can't sleep because of my goddamn neighbor and his new(ish) girlfriend who's just as loud as him, and during sex even louder, but that's living in NYC.

However, just picking up an old hobby and fixing some of the things that have been on my to-do list forever is reassuring in a lot of ways to me, since it means that I finally have some vestige of the energy I used to have before everything changed.  I'm trying to actively improve things now, which was more than I could say for about the past year and even longer. Before this was bad; last year was horrible, and I only made it through with the support of my good friends.

I've also consciously slowed down at work since I can't afford to stress myself out as I've done in the past. I have the intellectual capacity and the skills to do more, but when my heart starts pounding, I'm trying to juggle 3 requests, and still have workflow asking me to look at this or pick up that, I have to say no.  And I have to remember that.

I've always kind of been an overachiever in certain ways, graduating near the top of my class in every school I've ever gone to, but the effort then was much less because I was going through an established system that actively tried to provide support where needed.  In my case, I needed less support with TAs or professors since I could learn it on my own for the most part. I had the liberty of structuring my own class schedule so I could sleep in the morning according to my natural circadian rhythm, and/or fall asleep in class.  There have been many times where I've found myself literally nodding off in front of my computer in the afternoon, but at work that's a giant problem.

The biggest irony to me for this year is that despite the sicknesses, the leave, the slowing down, the move to Brooklyn which disrupted the entire department, I ended up getting the top mark on my performance review.  It reminds me very much of my academic experiences where I put too much pressure on myself despite being one of the highest achievers, and every semester I was shocked that my efforts had worked.  More than anything, in hindsight, I would have ended up at the top even if I hadn't freaked myself out unnecessarily, and arguably would have done even better if I wasn't caught up in my head and stressing from habit, not need.

I'll try to remember this.  Habits are incredibly hard to break (hello smoking), but if I can remind myself, even just sometimes, that I don't have to take all of this stress on my shoulders, well, maybe I won't be so tense it literally does weigh on my shoulders in terms of strain and pain in my muscles.  I vowed long ago to not do new year's resolutions, but maybe just this once it might be worth it. Don't overthink, don't push myself too hard, take time for myself, my hobbies, interests, and needs.  Take care of what I've let slide for far too long, and reward myself accordingly.  Remember that I don't have to be the go-to for everyone at work, and that I'm part of a team where others have to pull their weight. 

Basically I need to break or temper this habit I've built up over more then a decade, and realize that I'm hurting myself trying to do everything, even more than is asked of me.  I'm not guaranteeing anything, but at least it's something important enough to really push for some compromise of my default response and what's best for me.

So I guess it's a New Year's resolution after all, or at least close enough.

It's amazing how things can be so normal and yet strange at the same time.  This past weekend the family baked cookies as we always do, using recipes from the 1950s that all basically start with "Take a pound of butter..."  Kind of like Paula Deen's recipes except that we only bake these once a year so we don't get diabetes.  I have a Christmas tree, although a small one, for the first time in nine years in the city needing that extra comfort of pine smell and colorful lights.

Yet this is the first Christmas without my great-aunt or my aunt who died within weeks of each other last year right before Christmas (as in, my aunt passed away on the 23rd, my great-aunt on the 10th).  I hate to dwell on the past, but I'm so good at it, that I've managed to dredge up those feelings again.

I remember Christmas as a happy time in the past, time to take a break particularly since my parents were teachers so we could all spend time together.  Time to decorate the tree, put out the wooden carolers we had, light the luminaries and drive through ours and other towns to see the light shows others put on.  We had the cookie baking, and caroling if we wanted in the main square of town.  In short, we mostly had movie-style Christmases and lives in many ways while we were growing up.

I suppose it goes to show that having the fairy-tale, movie Christmas when young doesn't have much to do with how you grow up and experience the transition to your life.  I feel that there should be a life where in some alternate universe I'm married, have children, and manage to recreate that feeling of safety that I was incredibly lucky to have when I was a child.  In this universe I barely make it through the year, deal with incredible stress and loneliness, and dysfunctional family relationships.  I have one day off, today, when I don't even get to go to my parents' house or even see their tree decorated with all of the ornaments I once lovingly placed on our tree each year.

Maybe that's why it's so hard; the accumulation of the loss of family members one by one, the loss of time to  truly celebrate the holiday, the loss of innocence which is inevitable, but since I started with such wonderful experiences the new normal is that much more difficult.

This is not to say I had a bad Christmas. But it certainly puts in sharp relief the differences of my life now and my innocence growing up.

Tonight was the official holiday party for our greater department, and every year since we moved from Metrazur, it's the same.  Overly crowded, only knowing our department's people, doing the whole see and be seen thing, enduring extremely loud music and yelling to hear each other.  In a lot of ways I guess I could say I'm easing back into things, particularly since I'm pretty much on a schedule until the New Year.

Tomorrow I hit Brooklyn, then work from home Friday before heading out to my aunt's to bake our annual batches of cookies.  I do look forward to this every year, but with this year being so dysfunctional and unusual, there will likely be some interesting questions that I'll have to deflect because I don't have answers.

It should be fine.  We'll get done what we have to, enjoy ourselves in a lot of ways, and the rest of the time I have to focus on work since I have no time off (literally) except Christmas Day itself.  That really has to be the engine driving me to the finish line of this year.  What next year will hold, hell, who knows; there are about 20 moving parts that don't fit into a cohesive pattern at the moment in a day to day as well as overarching path of how things will turn out.

For now though, it's time to keep a long tradition running and concentrate on baking.

Being back at work for the first week after leave has been an interesting experience.  Having some much needed time off and experiencing the joys of not being "A Well-Respected (Wo)Man" was a very different experience.  I know that things will never be functional at my job but we pretend that things are normal and our facades are slowly tested over time for validity. Yet if you chip through the facade, and in my case, rebuild it, and return to the same scenario; well, "(it's) oh so good, and (it's) oh so fine" is the spoken or implied mantra to show up for work disregarding all the things that caused the problems in the first place. Yet I'm reminded how I am thrilled that we're lucky enough in my department to understand each other, and as much as possible give some slack to those who need it.

On Thursday we had our unofficial holiday party, where all of us had the time to talk that we don't have at work. It's an opportunity to bond, to touch on topics and hobbies outside of work, and most of all just to enjoy the fact that I work with some of the most intelligent people I've ever met.  My colleagues know me on the surface and know that I've taken leave, but it also gave me a chance to give a deflected response for the reason; not whole truth, but a version of it that let them understand after 8 years of this crazy overwork and 7 months of being sick this year, it was a necessary rest.  They seemed to sympathize more, and it reinforced for me the reasons why I worked  there in the first place, fought for a permanent spot, and returned after breaks.

It reminded me of the best parts. Was it a hard week?  Yes.  Will it solve problems?  Maybe with some co-workers. Is it somewhere I can learn something every day either from my colleagues or just from researching a topic? Absolutely! Where else would you possibly find that?  In my experience, the answer is nowhere.

 That alone made the week worthwhile.

Three days down.  It was ok.  There are a lot of things I suspected that were proved, since while I was gone it was difficult for my group to get the data they needed. I know my databases and didn't have enough time to train someone else on them as well as the crazy volume we've been experiencing.

Tomorrow and Friday I'm in Brooklyn.  I'm already tired, mostly my fault, but theoretically work should be slowing down as the holidays approach.  I have to set goals, limits, intentions, and honestly I am more relaxed and pacing myself then I have been.  It's still difficult, but that won't change.  So it's back to the grind tomorrow and see how things go.  Hopefully I'll learn to let things go, no matter how often I've said it and failed at not stressing myself out.  Hey, practice makes perfect, right?

So this is it.  The last night before I go back to work.  I still feel guilty, ashamed, and simply inadequate for having this happen.  As hard as I try and even though many people have told me this was the right thing to do for my own health and sanity; as many times as I've tried to tell myself that this was pretty much the only option, I'm often rather a failure at accepting my faults.

I've gotten better about forgiving myself over time, and know that this will be a process re-integrating back into the pressure cooker that is my job. Part of the guilt is the stressful interactions with others, knowing that they haven't had the luck and forgiveness for this kind of leave that they can only dream about.  Honestly, I can't imagine making it through what I know of other peoples' lives since I can truly say I don't think I would succeed.

Mostly I'm scared.  I'm scared of the negative consequences of my leave, although god knows after 2012 I should know there's already a stigma.  Apprehensive of the fact that I'm really not ready to return mentally, although I know I can still fulfill my duties better then most of my team.  Frightened that those who were causing me problems in terms of not backing me up or provoking me will continue that pattern and that I'm going to end up completely losing it at them in retaliation.

I also hope that this may have changed things for the better considering that my usual commitments have been put on others, and they had to step up to the plate for a change instead of expecting me to overextend myself to fix their problems.

There has to be hope to balance the fear, or at least temper it.  I have to do this; walk in as if nothing has happened, calm my nerves, don't throw up, and think of it as starting over in many ways.  Field the million questions that will occur from those who saw the whole process leading up to my leave and reassure them that I'm ok, even though I'm not sure I'm ok when it really comes down to it. In short, hope that I have the resources to feel like I can handle this life, and if not, fake the hell out of it. Luckily I am an expert at doing this in various areas of life. 

I wish I felt confident.  I wish that walking back in wouldn't be so nerve-wracking.  But damn, I wish a lot of things in life didn't occur, so chalk another one up to experience.  That's life. That's trying to stand up against everything that's beat you down over the years. I wish someday that it wouldn't require a major struggle.  Maybe someday if I'm lucky, or if something finally clicks in my brain that's been damaged for years I can experience life that way. That's some sort of hope which I'll take and try to run with as best as possible.

I haven't written because I don't know what to write.  I've transferred to a private Word file since I know what I really want to say isn't something I want publicly available (I've learned that lesson the hard way).

Tonight I write because I'm finally getting out of the drag in my own head and realizing that I should focus on the REAL whole picture.  The verdict on Garner was not a surprise, but having someone I care about involved, however peripherally, makes a huge difference.  I'm still tired.  I still have major issues with my job and my life as it is.  But it's leaps and bounds better than what's happening tonight, and the juxtaposition of the Rockefeller Tree lighting along with the Garner protests expresses better than I ever could as to how life will often rock with changes that test your limits.

There reaches a flashpoint when everything boils over; when anger, shame, and resentment takes over your life.  There are things that happen to paralyze you since you have no other frame of reference and it feels like everything stops, even your breath. There are the general sympathizers and general apologists who hedge the line. And there are those who are completely blind or unwilling to empathize with what has happened.

Most of all, there are the flames, mostly metaphorical and unfortunately sometimes literal.  When something so traumatic has occurred, there are times when everything bursts into flame. Sometimes it's a self-immolation. Sometimes it becomes a metaphorical expression as with Garner. Sometimes, as in Ferguson, the flames become literal and Catching Fire isn't just a novel's title.

It could be the Garner case, it could be the life you live that you try to mitigate as much as you can, it could be the observation of the world as we know it that sets us off.  You see it many times.  Protests, violent or not.  School shootings.  General meltdowns. All of these touch that flashpoint, but it's how you respond that matters for yourself.  You have no control over others, only the hope that someday, in your hour of need, some small positive light in your mind douses the burgeoning fire before that flashpoint.