The Diary of Mr. Chimney

[manuel_moe_g]

I waited until the age of 25 to get serious about my mental health. You rock, Mr. Chimney!

[Mr.Chimney]

One Month!

*cue party balloons*

So, this weekend was pretty good. Convocation and work loom heavy but I have decided not to go to work tomorrow and to instead clean up my place. Until the big down that is next weekend, I think I can do okay. Except for when I do actually go to work. Probably Tuesday, and you'll probably hear more than a little bit about it. But, in the meantime, I made apple whats-its that caramelized in the oven, went to the gym, had awesome sex, ate well, and plan to do much of the same tomorrow. When life is like this I'm cool with the whole being alive bit despite the bad voices.

Oh. I also found cheap therapy. I'm just trying to fill out the form and it is so hard. I will try and report on the results every day. I'm coming along pretty well, all told! Thanks for the views and the love, gang. Because I had a good time I can't find anything to write about (of course) except my music collection, which has been filled out with numerous recommendations that actually stuck. I just wish the shitty parts of life didn't take these little beads of colour away.

I will fill out that form. I want Two Months! to be talking about my next therapy appointment. Can I do it? Fuck, why not!

[manuel_moe_g]

This is an awesome update, Mr.Chimney. "cue party balloons" indeed!

[Mr.Chimney]

9-June-2014

Welp, the fates have decided that I shan't return to the Warehouse of Sadness. Since the incredible altercation mentioned on the...6th? Seriously? Jesus, that feels like forever ago. But yes - since that heinous crime was too much for boss-man to bear, I was fired. Well, "released from contract" or some other shit. I don't know why - I got emailed with a request to phone the temp agency and I just made up a yarn about not being able to because of some travelling bullshit and determined to call them tomorrow. I suspect I'll find out about how I literally ate documents (note that this company has boxes that have literally disintegrated, their contents held in by the pressure of the remaining boxes) or ate kittens on break or something. I don't really care - frankly, making it from day to day was hard enough there - but I know that there is a lot of anger just below the surface. On the bright side, I found walk-in counselling near my house tomorrow! I'm going to take my newly-fired ass to one-off therapy. Just to see if I can do it. I'm really hoping I can, because frankly I'm having a hard go without help and I'd rather not go to the astounding depths of misery if I can help it. I may not win but by dammit I'm gonna try to swim upwards. From there I hope to find a low-cost or sliding-scale counsellor and holy fuck I think I'm planning to move forward. I mean, there's a lot of resistance here internally as well. But simply seeing myself writing down the fact that I'mma need something other than weed is a good start.

I also need to address my body dysmorphia, which has now mutated with the general malaise that is my life into some shitty, shitty desire or interest in not eating. Girlfriend confirmed that I have been both more sluggish and thinner - textbook signs for me that I am starving myself. My exciting solution to this problem? Would you guess "absolutely nothing"? Because that's what I do. I get a fucked-up sense of pleasure out of not eating and continuing to watch old cartoons while my stomach rumbles. My food consumption until sushi with Girlfriend was at a piece of toast and 2 beers. I think that means I need help. Why is it so hard to reach out, though? I need a therapist before a therapist. Pre-therapy?

So, the party balloons may have popped, but at least I can laugh when their deflated carcasses fall all over. I feel badly for feeling so cynical. I wish I didn't feel as much, but I can't repress things like I used to. I swear to God this is embarrassingly difficult for me. I mean, I am literally feeling a bit sick with the thought. But I'll make it and inflate more party balloons for Month Two!

[Mr.Chimney]

The Last Little While

Has been utterly miserable and it has been attacking my ability to write. I'll get through it and my parents and report back - honest!

[Mr.Chimney]

14-June-2014

Today, during Convocation, I told the President of my alta mater, a former Liberal cabinet minister, that he "proved to me why the [federal Canadian political party] Liberals can't be trusted to run anything" and walked off without shaking his hand. He simply embodies everything I hate about Canada and academia and business. I hate this man and everything he stands for, and the only place I could tell him that was at my Convocation when I'm supposed to be smiling for cameras and holding my degree. Holy shit. I'm still shaking about it. I didn't even shake his hand - I just walked up to him, said my piece, and walked out. I was moving so fast and the handshake dodge was so unexpected (even by me) that neither of my parents had time to take a picture of me with a man whose politics, cynicism, and management style burn me to my core. All they got is a blurry-ass image of me zooming past the guy, and that's exactly the picture I want.

Anyone with children hates me now. But let me hopefully defend myself by telling the tale of what this shit looked like. And then there's a happy twist so you don't think I blame my parents for my inability to play the guitar with my nose or whatever. Then we come 'round the home stretch and I talk about how nice my parents have been and how lovely it has been to have them here.

Convocation was Twitter-themed. before the event, we were treated to random people's shout-outs skewered between lost signals as the Twitter logo floated at the bottom with #ASSUGrad (not actually, of course. Though I would as a matter of principle attend a school named ASS before an equivalent school named something else because of the acronym). During it, Valiant Leader Presidente decides to ruin any slight possibility of decency by "taking a selfie" and providing such sickening platitudes as "I see the future". During the Great Handshake with el Presidente, people stopped to take profile pictures with a man they know nothing about outside of an empty title. This somehow elicited applause and laughter. There was a decent Italian guy and another nice enough chap to my right and we chatted about the World Cup in between whispered sleights about the whole gaudy affair. Slew of pictures happens, the school's croupier stick ever-ready to take those precious dollars with sweatshirts and plaques and pictures.

My parents came here to celebrate the event and actually succeeded in making me feel like I'd done something worth thinking about or even looking back upon. We tried some new restaurants, found a decent martini, really spruced up the apartment, and I could not have asked for a more perfect weekend to spend with my parents. I honestly only really calmed down from the gaudy spectacle aforementioned and enjoyed the idea that I had a shiny new piece of paper which makes note of the tremendous growth in intellectual clarity and academic insight I have managed to come to in some 5 years living here. As far as I'm concerned, a woman named Bernadette and three of the most important people in my life presented that degree to me in a hotel bar across the way from our sad little breakfast shindig.

Amazing - the representative totem of a mediocre, bush-league podunk school fails to elicit a positive reaction when his attempts at anything resembling emotion and interest are at best a narcisistic overexaggeration of Ace Ventura and at worst the sort of mealy-mouthed trough-porridge that this entire goddamn country is built on. The people who made an extraordinary effort to come and see me because of that worthless event, meanwhile, have done nothing but amaze me. I feel...validated? It's surreal. I still can't talk to them about anything or else this strange new facet of their relationship with me might vanish, but. I want to bottle this weekend and keep it close. I stood up for myself. I said my piece, and I left. I am now 1 degree wealthier and one weird-ass step closer to being a real person.

I don't get it either. I'm shaking but I feel good, so I'm going to bed.

[Mr.Chimney]

16-June-2014

Truthfully, not much happened today. I wish I had more to say other than advice for those who like electronica (that advice, for the record - check out Feed Me's Alarm Clock) and that I really like the new flowers on my balcony. It's hard to think about much. I feel like I'm carrying a soggy St. Bernard on my back.

[Mr.Chimney]

17-18-June 2014

I can feel a clock ticking. Girlfriend starts working in five days and, even though I have been told that the temp agency will find me another job I know that I will soon begin hating myself for being unemployed while she is working. She just went through a spurt of that with me, but that didn't bother her. Who knows what's wrong with me there. I've been having an awesome couple of days though, and I see no reason why not to expect that tomorrow. I lost the therapy vibe, but I'm really hoping I can conjure it up again. It's hard to reflect on things when I'm doing even remotely okay.

I'm sorry...

[Mr.Chimney]

I'm getting help! I'm actually getting help!

I went to the clinic today and was for the first time able to simply say what I feel. I did it. I told the nurse about my past. I mentioned everything. And she put me on the urgent referral list, meaning that I'll be helped. I can't stop it. I can't sabotage it. I can't do anything about it to stop myself from finally getting help. I'm going to get help. I'm going to see someone who can give me medication to help me stop panicking and get me to eat again. I'm going to learn how to cope with my childhood. I'm going to understand that I'm a human being and that I deserve respect. I'm crying as I type this because this shit sounds so simple but to me it's literally a whole new world. Being able to recognize my needs and to fill them? I will be able to do that. Getting new glasses for the first time in 10 years? I will be able to do that without guilt and without shame. I am worth something. I am a human being and I deserve respect. I'm going to understand that. I'll be a real person like I was before my childhood was shit on by my father. I'm an urgent referral; is it sick that I feel vindicated for that?

I'm calming down now. My story is episode-worthy and now I'm finally getting to the part of the interview where we ask about how I got better. I'm going to make it and I'm going to tell you all about it whether you like it or not.

Mr. Chimney is back.

[manuel_moe_g]

The important thing is that you are being self-loving to yourself by getting help. This news makes me very happy. Please take care, Mr. Chimney.