CraziBastid

My year had started off great.  I was dating an incredible girl and I was scheduled for a job interview at a comic book publishing company through a friend of mine.  That fell apart when said friend felt the need to have a bit of an emotional episode and blame me for things beyond my control. This was not the first time this happened, and to be honest, if not for the job interview (which I was getting very little info, by the way) I would've asked this person to cut me out of their life.  Our friendship was a loving and loyal one, and I'd be lying if I said I only had just friendly feelings for her for a long time.  However after personal and emotional attacks from her and taking only so much abuse, I moved on and luckily found my girlfriend. Well after my friend and I came to blows we went our separate ways under bad terms, and not only did I lose a career making opportunity, I lost a friend.  

Before the week I took off work for the job interview that never came to be, the time I spent with my girlfriend became more and more distant.  Eventually, (on the week I was supposed to be having that interview, no less) my girlfriend broke up with me, thinking I deserved better.  The bitter part of me wanted to agree.  The irrational part of me felt betrayed.  The mature part of me understood.  We remained friends, but shortly after that I could feel myself slowly become more and more depressed and my emotions were getting the best of me.

Shortly after I returned to work that month, I had one of my trademark breakdowns early in my shift.  My manager asked me to his office and told me my work has been suffering lately and my emotional outbursts weren't helping anything.  He politely (and fairly) asked me if it was possible that I never behave in that manner again.  I could only be honest with him and told that I could not.  He appreciated my sincerity and suggested I might look for work elsewhere.  So I grabbed my things, he walked me to the door, and shook my hand.  To this day, there are still rumors suggesting something more happened.  

Despite finding another job delivering pizza shortly after, I was still in a lot of pain.  I started looking for a decent therapist, but seeking a therapist you can afford with your limited health insurance and you're comfortable with is like trying to find a working used car under $5000.  To be honest, no matter what your therapist says, you're always afraid you'll say that one thing that will get you committed.  Thankfully that wasn't the case, but I became scared of myself when I learned something about myself.  It happened during that awkward first day, when they try to get a handle on you, and ask you a bunch of regular mental health questions...

Of course, the questions about self mutilation and suicide came up.  I was asked something along the lines of, "Do you think about hurting yourself?"  I answered, "Sometimes."  The follow up question, of course, was, "Ever think about committing suicide?" I decided to be honest.  If I wanted to be on the road of recovery, I couldn't beat around the bush.  After thinking about it for a minute, I admitted that I did, but I don't think I could do it.  The reply was, "then why do you think about it?"  

I tried to get the words out, but my instinct was to cry.  I hated thinking this way.  I hated admitting it out loud even more.

"Because, I think If I died," I said after a long, winded sigh. "I don't think it would bother me." 

I hated thinking that way, but all the pain I'd been feeling for the last several years suddenly being taken away sounded nice.  

After admitting that, I spent a good ten minutes crying and staring at the floor.  After being handed a box of tissues and attempted to calm myself down, I looked to my therapist and asked if I was going to the loony bin.  She smiled and shook her head.

"No," she said.  "We're going to work on this." 

I struggled the next several months.  I was going to bed at five in the morning and waking up long after noon.  I'd find myself getting upset and crying over the silliest of things.  However, in May, I was dealing with some medical problems and during a delivery, I was set off by someone in traffic.  I was getting honked at for not turning into oncoming traffic so I could turn into someone's driveway.  For some reason, the person behind me either wanted me dead or didn't understand how the right-of-way worked.  Shortly after delivering the pizza, I found myself getting worked up on the highway and felt i had better pull over to calm down.  I was huffing, puffing, screaming, crying, punching, getting dizzy, my blood pressure was boiling, my eyes were red, I was confused.  I was seeing lights---

A police officer pulled up behind me.

He approached me, but panic had set in.  I knew I wasn't doing anything illegal and I knew he was just doing his job, but I just wanted to be left alone for a few minutes.  He asked me if everything was okay, and he could tell by just one look of me that I was anything but, "okay".  He asked if I wanted an ambulance, and for whatever reason, I just wanted to go back to work and finish my shift (which was far from over).  Despite my pleas, an ambulance picked me up and took me to the E.R.  There, I was told I was having anxiety attacks, and was given some pills to take whenever I felt I had another one coming on.  It's been six months, and I only have one pill left.  Good or bad, is up to you. My medical insurance didn't cover me for the E.R. visit. 

All throughout the year, I've been *attempting* to save up and prepare to be apart of the Artist's Alley at Matsuricon 2013 in Columbus, Ohio.  I still have mixed feelings about it to this day.  On the one side, I spent three days straight with one of my very best friends and I met a few more great people at the convention as well.  I had a nice conversation with voice actor and all around good guy, Scott McNeil.  I got rid of a lot of Zior comic books and my space art was fairly popular.  

On the other hand, I still felt very over looked and for some reason, it felt like the people there were a bit more judgmental and hostile (I take comfort in knowing other's agree with me on that).  A lot of it was my fault, however.  I was being very unprofessional and I wrongfully took my frustrations out on my friends I shared a table with.  So to Rachel and Amy, I am sincerely sorry.  

When I got home and returned to work, I had to give my managers a declaration of my auto insurance so I could continue delivering pizza.  However, I was informed by my insurance company (how many times have I said "INSURANCE" in this journal???) that I was not covered if I got into an accident while delivering.  In my family's current financial situation, if such a thing happened, we could lose our house.  After doing some window shopping for other insurance companies, it turns out there's only one company that would cover me, but the cost was outrageous.  The safe thing to do was look for another job.  This was in August, and, despite a three week stink at a food chain that literally made me physically ill, I've been unemployed ever since.  

Now we come to the holidays, which I am partially looking forward to.  For the first time in a long time, I'm not working retail during the holidays, and I'm loving it. However the problem remains that my mother, father, and myself are all not working.  Christmas is going to be a bare one this year.  However...

Despite being an athiest, and despite all the bullshit I've been through this year, I'm still naive and silly enough to believe in Christmas miracles.  I'm thankful I don't have to put up with the commercialism that Christmas has become so bastardized for.  We can still set up the tree and have a nice dinner and be thankful we're not on the streets.  I'm thankful I'm still finding the will to live for something.  I'm thankful people look beyond my flaws and still love and care for me.  

To those of you who have read this entry to the end, I want you to know that I love you, and thank you for taking a minute of your time to show interest and care into the mind of a crazy bastard.  

I'm still working on issue two of Zior.  I have the first 7 pages or so finished, so even thought it's what, two or three years in the making, I hope you all will like it.  I've even been toying with the idea of making a short independent movie with a friend of mine.  If that happens, I will continue to give updates.

Thanks again everyone.  Have a happy holiday