white noise

Oh, good grief!

I get a call from Amy at Dr. Bivins office today explaining to me that Cigna doesn’t cover appointments with Dr. Bivins. Naturally, this upsets me, as Dr. Bivins is one of the few doctors I’ve seen talk about Fibromyalgia as a possible neurological disorder. Amy also goes on to tell me that an office visit with Dr. Bivins is “several” hundred dollars. “What’s *several* hundred dollars?” I ask. She replies that it’s at least $300.

Well, I’m happy to think ugly nasty things about Cigna because, technically, I hate insurance companies by default. Regardless, I decide to get on the phone with Cigna — at least to bitch and shout — but, lo and behold, the representative tells me that Dr. Bivins is in fact contracted with Cigna AND, even if he wasn’t, I have out of network coverage anyhow.

I hate to assume the worst of people, but the situation is rather suspect. Who is lying to me and why?

[Edit: It’s 3 p.m. and although I called Amy back and left a message at 10 minutes past noon, I have yet to hear from her.]

The message I get from conformity, from a politically correct, polite society is that as long as one hides anger, meanness, trash talking, and the bad-mouthing of other individuals, it’s acceptable. There’s no evil in it. Well intentioned people can be degraded and trashed as long as the nasty things we say about them are said behind walls. As long as we appear to be good or Christian or generally mild-mannered, it’s okay to be back-stabbing and mean.

Yes, I’m guilty. I thought I surrounded myself with smart, funny, interesting people. What I’ve really done is sequestered myself with small-minded individuals with relatively nothing nice to say about others and I’ve closed myself off from a reality that — while it contains people who will drive me bug fuckin’ batty — fascinates and compels me to seek a deeper understanding. I’ve bad mouthed my fair share (though, honestly, I do try to keep it to the minimal few who really make me crazy), but you know — whose fault is it that I’m so small and petty that I need to do this? Mine. Why? Because in the interest of not rocking the boat or being socially unacceptable, I haven’t said what I really feel. I bottle my emotions up, vent them in the presence of the wrong people, all for the sake of propriety and the negative feelings just balloon; they grow and grow and grow until I burst.

Emotion is a terrible thing, you know. Logic and reason are the key to happy, tranquil lives. Mmm hmmm, and men claiming to be logical, rational thinkers still drop bombs on other people. Go figure.

I’m stagnating and the warning bells are clanging in my soul loud enough to wake the damned. Really, does it matter if I speak my mind and grouse aloud? “Shhhh, don’t raise your voice in public!” Oh? Why the hell not?

Revolt, I say! Be revolting. As long as it’s in moderation, speak your mind. Out loud, in public. Say what you mean. If your only intent is to drag other people down with you, then perhaps you should reconsider, but set your own boundaries where politeness meets the need for self expression.

Oh, and do recall that if you expose yourself in public, nekkidness can get you arrested. :)

That’s it; I’m giving up public life and going recluse … again. Having to deal with more than one personality at a time is just that fucking annoying. But then, that’s why I’m not in customer service anymore (and possibly why I don’t own a gun. However, the fact that I own a truck kinda negates the missing gun theory). :)

When I left California for Virginia, I didn’t know what to expect. Everything turned upside down, mostly in a good way, but some bad, too. I come to understand that I’m unsure of how to be in a relationship and still maintain my autonomy. Is it even possible?

I can be financially independent, err, well … if being a broke puppy equals financial independence, but the how-to of being me, without damning Jon to a life of solitary confinement, is complicating things. I don’t want to put my head down and follow the cow in front of me — dammit, I don’t like getting crapped on (or stepped on).

Herd mentality — oy! Google gave me this quote Sunday: “In America, through pressure of conformity, there is freedom of choice, but nothing to choose from.” (Peter Ustinov) It struck a chord.

Conformity: shudder.

I’m often surprised by the power and control of depression. It creeps down inside and latches on with thick, smothering tentacles, threatening to leech out any form of joy or self-assurance. I’d like to say it rarely happens, but combatting it can take days, sometimes weeks.

I have every reason to be happy and balanced, and yet in the last year or two, I’ve not found either. The person I see in the mirror is a shallow image of me. Why have I stopped seeking a better way? I feel as though the moment I started looking for ways to fit in and adapt to a society I don’t understand, I stopped being in control of my destiny. This is definitely NOT the person I want to be.

I strive to remind myself that I have a unique voice and something important to say, but when it gets lost in those questions like, “am I socially acceptable?” or “is this politically correct?” what good does it do to have a voice I can’t use?

I long to return to being someone I know and trust. Someone I can depend on and look up to. Screw the rest of the world.

Word count: 25,093

I’m past the halfway mark, but it still feels like it’s all uphill. I’m guessing that’s because climatically, I’m still winding my way up the hill. I’ve made 1,882 words for today, but it’s early so I’m taking a break and I’ll go back again and work more later. Now, though, it’s time for some WoW. :)