I’ve had to consciously change a few habits lately. Most relevant, writing here from my heart has been suspended because there’s simply too much drama unfolding in every part of my life right now. I won’t name these places. Ry sent me this about feelings and writing, it’s worth a read.

I was talking to Jarrod last night about “complicated” and he said, that he’s fine with complicated, because complicated just means you need to think before you talk and act and that’s a good thing. That man gets a cookie. I’ve had a couple conversations with folks from the ‘hood over the last few weeks about drinking tattoos, having “why not?”, “don’t do it”, “go home” tattooed on your index finger so you can see when you take the next drink. “Think” might make a good motto. Which, in the midst of so much drama, “think: who am I going to hurt by what I’m about to say or do, and am I selfish enough that this hurt is how I want my life characterized”. I know a lot of people that I think would blow this off, or find justification in “just having fun” or something similar.

I can’t escape some things that make coping with depression really hard. I’ve tried to draw some firm boundaries and remove destructive people from my life, but I’m not living in the woods. It’s not entirely possible. Mostly I’m finding better people and embracing them.

I got an email from a date today that expressed our date was abysmal and not to email her again. Sometimes I need that reminder of how different people are, but I’m pretty sure I have enough of it right now too.

Ry saw my last post and came by to help me work out the suburban’s latest electrical problem. Turned out to have a bad splice in addition to the grounding problem. Charging up the batteries and we should be in pretty good shape now.

The day was filled with anger and frustration. These aren’t familiar feelings to me. It’s pretty annoying that my depression keeps me from being ultimately happy, but is totally cool with letting me be angry. If it’s going to strip me of positive emotions, you’d think it could take a few of the bad ones with it.

After a lot of stammering, wrenching, pacing, and biking, all in spurts based on what seemed best at the moment to let out some energy, the day started to conclude, I calmed down, and got some untainted thought in. Some chatter with mother brought us to agreement that I’m being dealt a rigged hand. There’s nobody at this table that is interested in talking about it so I can play along or get up and leave. Insofar as the analogy applies, I’m choosing the latter, which basically amounts to letting it go and not trying any longer to get anything worthwhile out of the situation.

I got the 3-speed back together, although I couldn’t find the official diagram for mounting a Sturmey-Archer hub. She rolls again. Mom bought an Electra Townie at the LBS in Eatonville, so she has a bike down there now and the pressure to get this one 100% perfect was relaxed a bit. I got the blue Schwinn back together as well, whose rear wheel was being used as a crutch on the 3-speed until I got the very specific rare parts in and the time to fix it. It’s all tuned, although it’s still on rear wheels and the freewheel sticks a little causing a bit of chainslap. Mostly the steel wheels are crap and should go, but this bike is rarely ridding since nobody in my house needs such a small bike, so it sits. I got this silly little Honda Prodigy fixed. Who knows what to do with it. It’ll probably be a silly bike for riding around the neighborhood like the Dahon.

What else. I don’t know. Depression sucks. People making it harder suck too.

never felt this angry before. pace. pace. pace. wrench. pace pace. compulsively drink soda so I’m not drinking alcohol. pace pace. wrench. wrench.

I thought this is the funniest description of myself I’ve ever written. Guess not, most have disagreed. Describing yourself in a few words is hard. I’ve settled on “Sarcastic tinkerer with feelings” for now.

I was talking to the cashier at the market this morning about being a sucker for heart warming stories and she recommended: Streakers in love.

I’ve been thinking for a few days and talking to Monica about not riding with .83 anymore. On that note, I have to give her a truckload of credit for being a standup friend and there for me when it may not be easy for her. I’ve stopped to think a few times about who has been willing to talk/listen and who hasn’t, along with what the cost is to them and each time I leave that thought impressed with her.

Recently I went through google reader and removed a couple feeds to sites that were just serving to upset me. Point83 was one of them. I made a post about this a while ago, realtively out of context, that started sort of a shitstorm of emails that gave me the best closure I’m going to get to my past relationship. So it wasn’t all terrible, insofar as I have a couple talk-terminating-cliches to drop now when people ask me what happened.

So I’ve been thinking about the people that trivialize my feelings and those who have been unable to deal with my feelings, how they’ve responded, by saying so, or by running away. I’ve been reevaluating which people in my life are worth my efforts and it’s lead me a bit to remember that I have more decent friends and hobbies than I have time and that I should probably shed a few of them.

Point83 in particular has a few people I don’t want to see right now. So if you don’t see me around, you should be able to find me elsewhere with little effort (the internet is always a good place to start) if you want to.

Because I keep forgetting this word for some reason, “… trivializes how you feel.”

For those just joining us, original problem, voltage gauge on the dash of a 1993 K2500 (4×4 3/4ton) Suburban showed a solidly low voltage, around 10V when running while both battery posts on the battery isolator showed a good 12V with the engine off and 14V with the engine running, as well as the alternator post.

The isolator and second electrical system are additions that I added for touring, mostly for running the electric cooler over long periods without running down the engine battery.

For those involved in the general debugging conversations:

I moved both battery systems and the alternator to the same post on the isolator to rule it out, no change.

NAPA didn’t sell alternator diodes alone and a voltage rectifier rebuild/repair kit was nearly the cost of a new alternator, so I saved myself the trouble and went with the latter. This unfortunately didn’t solve the problem. I should pull it and return it, but I don’t think the time is worth it. I debating keeping the old one as a spare and eating the core charge.

I took some jumper cables from the ground post on the engine block to the body inside the engine compartment. The voltage on the dash returned to near normal and I saw the newly installed ammeter show a reading, obviously charging the batteries. Bad ground.

I went for the low hanging fruit first and pulled the battery ground attached to the negative engine battery terminal that goes right to the passenger side fender. I took a steel brush to the fender, and the contacts, tightened it up good, and retightened the battery posts for good measure.

Problem solved.

I should add another ground strap, I thought I had one, but I’m not going to put more effort into this project unless the symptoms return.

as far as naps go, that may have been the most amazing ever. Woke up to:

Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

Thanks.

Holy fucking crap, I forgot the awesomeness of talking to a professional counselor. I talk to a lot of people about my feelings, so I’m not sure where the magic actually lies. Perhaps it’s in telling your story to someone who holds no stake in your life (other than being their customer), or that they’ve heard a lot of stories and can shift through the bullshit. There really is nothing like telling a counselor a handful of stories and watching them piece them together and say, “that’s what she did to you though.” as you stop and the light bulb joins you too.

I almost felt happy enough to go join the .83 pre-funk, but based on more people in that group actively marginalizing my feelings than not, I still decided to stick to my earlier plan to stick around the people in my life that actively care [as opposed to saying that they do].

So two major positive accomplishments today. I feel pretty good about it. So good in fact, I think I can take a nap without feeling like something worth missing, is.

Me: I’m incredibly despressed, given, but, somehow I’m still positive? I don’t know how to say that.
E: You just did.

Talking about the Montana trip I came up with the notion of an emotional glass ceiling. I’m still circling that idea, poking it with a stick. Maybe I should try waterboarding it.