twice exceptional

I've been fumbling a bit lately, almost dropped the ball on the financial aid for this semester due to misunderstanding what I needed to do.  Doing it at the last minute, waiting for bureaucratic wheels to turn, hoping it's still in time.  I've been laying around most of the month, between semesters, and too injured to train.  Recently increased my dosage of Zoloft to 50mg, as I seem to need it.  My meds person suggested a therapist, too.  With all that's going on in my life, probably a good idea.  My last one fell through for dumb insurance reasons, but I haven't looked for a new one.

He seemed to understand exactly what I meant, about Zoloft insulating me from real deficiencies in my life that erode mental health.  That I'm concerned about depending on it, because it won't work indefinitely.  He cited the view that meds should be used to establish a healthier lifestyle, so that they're no longer needed.  Even had a mnemonic device for it.  Meditation, Exercise, Diet, Socialization.  I think M should be mindfulness, but he said meditation, so whatever.

I'm doing great with the first three, but that last one is a problem, and doesn't seem to be going anywhere.   I'm interacting with people more, but still not liking them a whole lot.  I prefer to be alone over being around people that make me feel lonelier than ever.  Sure, let's try explaining it to a therapist again. This one has specialization in "twice exceptional" kids and the neurotic trainwreck adults they become.  Twice exceptional, being a term coined in the 90's, for gifted sorts with disabilities that screw it all up.  Not that I know anything about that.

I've had to tell this story a handful of times now, about the array of circumstances that have been integral to this recent shift in my life, but until now, I've been leaving out what sure looks to be the greatest part.  Turns out giving up coffee didn't have that much to do with it, but I finally opened up to someone about what did.  Might as well type it out, while I'm at it.  It should add some much needed context to relevant entries a few months ago, that I fear may have been rather cryptic.

Last November, I still had some Zoloft from my old prescription, so when I realized what was going on, I started taking 12.5 mg, immediately.  I set up an appointment to get more.  I knew that I was going to need it.

I've been in a pretty sorry state waiting for my life to come together, since getting back on the Omnitrope.  What's it been now, over two years?  Three?  I've lost track, but waiting was getting very depressing.  It doesn't really work like that, but I didn't know what else to do.  So, it was great to have someone to talk to for a change.  Someone that I actually enjoyed talking to.  Someone that I eventually came to consider a good friend, which is not exactly a term I throw around lightly.

She introduced herself maybe two years ago, and it turned out we had all sorts of common interests and ideas to argue about.  For over a year, we went back and forth, at substantial length and frequency.  She lives in a land over the sea and far far away, and having spent almost twenty more years on this earth than she, I was supposed to be happy for her, when she met someone.  I think she met a whole new social circle of someones too, but we didn't talk about it much, so I'm not sure on the specifics.  I realized why she'd suddenly been brushing me off lately.  Being happy for her would have been easier if not for watching our friendship washed away in the process.

Could I have been stronger and held it together, as would clearly be more appropriate to the situation?  To be entirely honest, no.  I tried like hell to keep it together.  I failed, relatively speaking.  I felt completely alone again.  Abandoned.  I had a bit of a meltdown.  It took me a while to make sense of the situation, but produced some interesting results along the way.  Changed my life even.  I can't live like that anymore.  I'm done with meeting people online.  Hardly even feel like posting anything.  Time to figure out how real life works.

I dealt as best I could, month after month.  For way too long.  It had been three months since I'd gotten a single word from her.  Over six months since we'd had a conversation that wasn't an unpleasant attempt to discuss the situation.  I thought the writing was pretty clearly on the wall, as it were, and it kinda struck a nerve.  We weren't friends anymore, maybe we never were, I don't know.  Maybe I'm just crazy, but at that point, I just needed closure.

Yeah, socialization is a tough one.  People suck.  Not that I blame anyone.  She inspired me to do all this, and I know I'm one of the people who suck, here.  Life is too complicated for petty bullshit.