Up In the Intervention

If you know me, you know I’ve had some… issues of late.  Issues like no job, an impending divorce, and difficulty certifying with my derby league.  The job thing I’m working on, the divorce will end one day soon, but the derby thing–oi, it’s hanging around my neck like a smelly albatross.

And it’s be slowly driving me nuttier as time goes on.

Over this last Sunday and Monday I was holed up in my apartment unwilling to go anywhere ’cause I’d seen the roster for my team’s first bout of the season–and guess who isn’t on the roster?  Yeah, me.  And the reason why was an inability to do my 27/5.  And I don’t just mean hit a certain time: I mean being unable to skate more than a few laps before giving up on it ’cause I can’t handle it mentally, which translates over into being unable to do it physically.

In the last two and a half months I know I’ve done it all the way through twice, and both those times were last week.  I may have done it one other time, but I can’t remember.  I know there’s a whole lot of times when I didn’t do it: I’d get in like five or six laps then just quit because I simply didn’t have to will or urge to continue.

Last night was no different.  I was in a bad mood when I got to practice.  I had shit tons of anxiety happening and I felt like I was going to meltdown at any moment.  We did our cardio to start and after the first few laps I felt the energy ebbing away.  I mean, I finished cardio, but I wasn’t setting any records.

And then it was time to do my laps and I didn’t want to go.  I wouldn’t even acknowledge that I needed to so then.  It was only after the coach and another skater went to the track did I slink out and line up.  I was getting tips on what to do from one of my former teammates who’s now reffing, but… half the time I was crying whenever I spoke with her.  I was just a mess.  After after about a half-dozen laps I just coasted to a stop and went off to do a little private sobbing.

Oh, but it doesn’t end there.  Nope.

Before we got ready to scrimmage some people wanted to know why I didn’t do my 27/5.  And I was actually telling people I was in a horrible state of mind and that I didn’t have to energy to skate that because I’d considered killing myself over the last two days and the feeling was still with me.  Yes, I was saying this.  Aloud.  Around my teammates, most of whom could hear me.

Yeah, it was a little too much.

So after scrimmage practice–which I got through fine ’cause there’s nothing like skating hard and getting hit to get your mind of suicidal ideation–I degeared and got ready to go home.  One of my coaches came over to discuss Jessica Jones, ’cause I’d posted a couple of great lines from Season 2, and we chatted about that.  But before I could leave…

Let’s back up here for a moment.

One of the positions on the board of directors of the league is league rep.  Their job is to make sure things go smoothly with the players and if there’s an issue brewing with them–like maybe one wants to rip the head of another for some reason–the rep steps in and speaks to the parties.  The current rep is a friend I introduced to derby, so I had some history with her before she was elected.

As I was getting ready to leave she came up and told me we needed to talk.  As in we needed to really talk.  So I suggested we go somewhere close and I could have a drink and something to eat while we talked.

What she told me was this: the league was getting really worried about me.  They were concerned about how crazy I was getting over doing a 27/5, but that was due to their concern about some of the shit I’ve been posting and saying over the last few weeks.  Also, when you’re coming into practice and talking about how hard it was to not die over the weekend–well, you know, your teammates have to step in and stage some kind of intervention.

And that’s what I was getting.

I found out that not only was I wrong about thinking that my league didn’t give a shit about me–something I’d said over the last month or so–but they were worried about my well-being.  People wanted to see me certify and it bothered them that I was unable to cross that last hurdle.  And they were getting worried by all the talk about suicide.  I’d mentioned that I almost didn’t come to practice and I was told that if that had happened, there would have been people checking up on me.

I eventually broke down and cried for about five minutes straight ’cause I was dying inside last night.  I’ve been hurting for a while and closing myself off from people, and it isn’t doing my mind any good. The fact that I was seeing my league and teammates and coaches in all the wrong light was a sign that I was slipping into delusional paranoia brought on by depression, and once you head down that road it’s tough to see straight without having someone point out that you’re losing you shit in a big way.

I felt better when I got home and I feel better today.  I went out for a while and took in the sunlight and ignored the fact that the wind made it colder than it was.  I drove around just to do something besides sit at home and feel bad.  And I had sushi:

 

I’ll likely make another attempt at the 27/5 tomorrow night. If I make it I may play Sunday, I may not.  More than likely I won’t play, but that’s okay because there’s other bouts coming in April and May and I’ll have time to get ready for them.  The important thing to take away here is that I do have people watching my back and they do worry about me.

I mean, I’ve likely always known they were there.

But trying to see them through your own problem?  That’s the problem.