I haven’t written for a few days. You may have heard that there was a flare up of violence in Israel. 700 rockets were fired at Israel from Gaza in 48 hours, with four Israeli civilians killed. Like many diaspora Jews, I feel a strong connection to Israel, doubly so as I have family there (my cousin spent Sunday running in and out of bomb shelters). For all the in-fighting in the Jewish community, Jews see each other as family and come together when one is attacked, more so, as far as I can tell, than is done by other religious or ethnic minority communities. It’s an intuitive thing for us.
I don’t really want to write about the conflict here, because I don’t want to get dragged into a political discussion about the rights and wrongs of the situation, nor do I want antisemitic trolling, which has happened to me in the past. Yet there is no denying that antisemitism and Jew-hatred, let alone Jew-killing makes my mood plummet, and I felt it would be dishonest not to acknowledge that here on my blog, where I am usually open about my feelings. It’s frightening that my mental health and well-being as well as my physical safety is under constant threat from outsiders who I have no control over, but that is the daily reality of being Jewish. So I was stuck feeling that the one thing I had to write about was the one thing I didn’t want to write about.
That is all I want to say about this.
I had a one-off therapy session yesterday, my first in some months. I felt a bit sheepish afterwards because, as my therapist said, there isn’t much that therapy can do for me right now. She said I have ongoing life-struggles (getting an autism diagnosis; job hunting/wondering if I’m in the right career; dating), but I seem to be coping with them OK. She said I need a friend to mull things over with rather than a therapist at the moment, which is probably true. I feel a bit sheepish about this, but perhaps I had to go through a therapy session to realise I don’t really need it at the moment.
My sleep is still disrupted. I’m getting to bed a little earlier than I was, but I still sleep through most of the morning and sometimes, as today, I wake up feeling so exhausted and depressed that I can’t get up for an hour. Cereal and coffee helps, but I have to get up to eat them, which is the hard part. I’m fed up of living like this – sleeping too long, at the wrong time, being too exhausted and depressed to do as much as I would like during the day, procrastinating when I should be doing things – but it is hard to change things. I do just enough to avoid the total collapse that would lead to outside intervention, but I’m only doing the bare essentials; I have a long to do list that isn’t getting attacked. I actually went back to bed after breakfast today. I didn’t sleep, but I just felt too drained to do anything, even to get dressed.
I eventually managed to send off another job application, but, again, I don’t feel that I really have the necessary skills and I think that was reflected in my answers to the questions on the application, which were waffley and not really reflective of the experience needed. The second interview for the job I was interviewed for during Pesach is on Thursday and I haven’t been called for that either, so it looks like I haven’t got that, although I suppose they could still call tomorrow.
After the job application (which only took about forty minutes to finish), I went for a walk and to do some shopping for an hour or so, but when I came back I was exhausted. I did manage to hoover my room, which needed doing, but took longer than I would have liked due to low energy and the hoover not working properly. I hate that I get tired so easily and manage to do so little. I wanted to start work on a small writing project I recently agreed to work on for Ashley Leia, but after all this and my struggles complaining to the council (see below), I ran out of time and energy. I did at least manage about twenty-five minutes of Torah study after dinner.
Looking at this, I did achieve things, and I did perhaps achieve more than I have managed on some days recently. It’s just hard to let myself feel proud of my achievements instead of attacking myself for not managing more. I think it is a bad idea to predicate one’s happiness on having more money or power or fame, but I’ve somehow got stuck with the idea that my worth in life is predicated on the amount of things I do. To some extent this is supported by Judaism, which makes looking at it differently difficult, but Judaism speaks of giving one’s best effort, even if that does not result in much of a practical result, whereas I want to achieve a certain (dangerously undefined) amount without taking into account how hard I try or how difficult it is for me to achieve things because of my ‘issues.’ Perhaps I should call it The Really Useful Engine Fallacy, after the online theory (picked up by various print newspapers on a slow news day) that the Thomas the Tank Engine books are set in a brutal dystopia where one’s value depends on one’s ability to work and be a “really useful engine”*.
* This is going way off the topic, but looking for articles on that theory led me to this page where a commenter said “I think both worlds [Thomas the Tank Engine and Star Trek] are relatable to a certain kind of person because they both depict worlds where your value doesn’t come from navigating social hierarchies, but from simply loving what you are doing.” Is it too much to say that “a certain kind of person” is “an autistic person”? Because it fits the rest of the statement. I did love Thomas as a child and I still do like Star Trek, although I prefer Doctor Who, which is more anarchic, because I’m a rebel (a bit).
I did also try to send a complaint to the council about the fact that they have stopped the household food waste recycling service they used to run. I’ve been meaning to do this for months and had not got around to it. The decision is bad enough for the environment even without the fact that they did not inform the public that it was happening; I’m sure we aren’t the only household who continued using expensive compostable bin liners for food waste after they had switched to burying it in landfill.
They don’t make it easy to find the relevant address to write to, as they funnel you to specific online reporting forms and if you can’t find one that’s relevant it is hard to find a general address to write to. I tried to set up an account with them, which they recommend doing to send a complaint, but the website wouldn’t accept a password from me, even though I met the rather stringent criteria given (eight characters, letters, numbers, upper case, lower case, some special characters!). In the end I had to use a different form to complain without setting up an account.
The form referred to me as a “customer” which annoyed me. I’m not hugely anti-capitalism (reading about Thomas the Tank Engine as a capitalist dystopia notwithstanding), but I don’t think all our interactions can be reduced to the market, and this is one of them. I’m a resident (not technically a ratepayer, but my parents are), not a customer.
The whole thing left me feeling as if the machinery of government in this country is in the hands of uninterested technocrats who think they know better than the electorate, but that surely is just my paranoia…
I’m still worried about dating. I feel no one could ever love me or live with me, so I should stop seeing L. for her own good. But when I reflect on that, it doesn’t seem so logical, though. “My thoughts are not always my friends.” I can see that there would be some difficulties if we were in a relationship, but I can also see how we could possibly balance each other out in a positive way, if I don’t panic and inadvertently sabotage the relationship.
I guess I can’t see anything in my life turning out well, though. Certainly not in the next year or two. I try to focus on the improvements I’ve made to my life, but they seem equivocal. I’ve had jobs… but nothing lasting or that I feel I’ve done well. I’ve dated… but never built a lasting relationship. My shul (synagogue) attendance and Torah study fluctuate wildly. It’s hard to see things suddenly turning around.
Still, I’ve just set up a date with L. for Sunday. We’re going to picnic in a park in central London. I’m hoping it won’t rain. The weather forecast is dry, but you can never tell in this country…