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moof's prattling


(no subject) @ 02:57 pm

It's now just shy of two months since moving back in with my parents in Chicago, and just over a year of funemployment.

Mom really has been getting more forgetful and confused by things, although she's always been vaguely ditzy in some ways; there's no question that she's the source of ADD in the family. While it's definitely gotten notably worse in the past year or five, it's hard to tell if it's "natural" (i.e. she's in her mid-seventies) or if she'll follow in her mom's Alzheimer footsteps. No cognitive defects AFAICT - just a really terrible memory.

Dad has been on a mess of drugs - statins and blood thinners and who knows what else - that screw around with his sleep and give him leg cramps and probably a bunch of other things that he doesn't talk about; while he's gotten squirrelier over the years and his driving has gotten even more frightening (pro-tip: you shouldn't keep tailgating people like you have the reflexes of a twenty year-old when you're in your seventies) overall he hasn't really changed much. He shows a bit more stiffness than he used to, but otherwise he's the same old sperg-engineer Dad.

Me... well.

I'm still pretty depressed (as expected) but there's less ideation and I'm engaging more; in that sense moving here has been at least somewhat successful. I still have little motivation to go out and do much of anything, though, and I find myself stewing over what the future could or should bring. The tech industry seems to be continuing in the directions I haven't liked - that is, rapid deployment and change without regard to stability combined with the deprecation of sysadmin in favor of deveops - so that seems like an unlikely direction to continue in, unless I were to move quite far laterally or down.

While I've started rearranging my room more to my liking, boxing up the stuff my parents and sister have left here, it still doesn't really feel like mine and there's the chronic thought running through my head of "How long will I actually remain here? And if so, does it actually matter if I change things?" and sometimes continues along to the heat death of the universe and other bits in the Nihilist Arby's vein.

I tried to book an appointment at a counseling center about two weeks ago; while they said that the first slots would open up in about three weeks, I also got the impression that the person taking my info was kind of dubious at my responses. In some sense, this is true; I put on my cheerful "talking to bog-standard humans" voice and refrained from going into my laundry list of woes, keeping it short instead.

I suppose I should go and poke around Chicago more, but that involves getting out of the house (and getting out of bed.)

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moof's prattling