Lemme Be Your Pilot. Some Musings on Work.

It's nearly the end of a long week and it's a three-day weekend. Praise be! Insert Hallelujah chorus here.

Actually, it's been a good week. I've been working hard and it apparently shows. Apparently Le Cheeses that Be are happy with the output, and this in turn makes me happy.

It's funny. It's had me thinking all day, why good, why now, why so late in the game do I feel so well-put in this job? Why couldn't I have been more on the ball and more confident about it sooner?

And it occurs to me that the answer's a pretty complicated one.

See, I've noticed parallels in my brother's life of late with my own life the last three years. After I had that severe head injury, I went through a lot of interesting phases. Truth be told, intellectually, I felt like I wasn't myself for at least 18 months, maybe even all the last three years, to be honest.

I may have gone on anti-depressants last year, but I really needed to be on them a long time ago. Ironically I only got off my anti-depressants a few weeks before my head injury and it occured to neither myself nor my doctor that going back on them immediately was probably a wise choice.

Then, yes, I did go on them starting August of last year, but we only increased the dosage by 50% this August, and I've only really started feeling like myself of late.

Plus, one of the workings of this drug I'm on is that it helps steady the focus and makes my mind less scattered. I've always had a hard time focusing on the work... it's so quiet and mind-numbingly constant that I always got bored and really sought to distract myself. I never really realized that that may have been symptomatic of my depression, a depression I suspect has existed for far more years than I'd like to really admit to. (The not-wanting-to-admit thing is interesting; it's not out of shame, it's out of this wanting to pretend that I haven't lost as many years as I have to being needlessly depressed if, really, the majority of it is chemical. Who wants to admit to that kind of a lack, for such an inane reason?)

But, yeah, I have the focus now, I guess. And I'm surprisingly more creative at solving the conundrums one faces when trying to convey subtleties and sound, and the challenges posed by that constant battle of time versus space. I don't know. Everything just computes better, faster, and with more consistency than it has before.

Another thing I think is important is that I've kind of stopped wondering "how much" I should do of any one thing, and I've finally realized that, as a hearing-impaired viewer, I pretty well know exactly as much as is required by my job. My standards are probably better than anybody else's, and not only am I getting more comfortable with that, I'm also getting pretty confident as a result of it. A little clarity goes a long ways, it seems, especially when you know that what you expect of yourself is greater than what anyone else probably expects of you.

I have to wonder whether it's just a golden period or if it can all come undone. But I have already considered the possibility of going off the drug now that I feel under control, more or less, and I've decided I'm not ready yet, and I have some proving to do for myself. I won't stay on it forever, but I think a little longer is warranted.

Anyhow. It's been an interesting day of internal dialoguing. I've had a lot to think about. A lot of wondering. But I'm pretty pleased with things. There's a point where you have to decide that questioning just isn't making sense, and maybe it's time to just enjoy the moment until it becomes something else, and then the cycle begins anew.

Fun, this little life thing, eh?