Two days of uber functionality, not by choice but by necessity. I’ve not been having good mental health. As I told my kid when she was complaining about not wanting to clean up her mess, “I don’t wanna have to go do this because my mind is sick but society doesn’t care. There is no such thing as sick days for mental illness.”
There should be, because yesterday my anger was skyrocketing, my anxiety boiling over, and I just wanted to curl up in a ball away from everyone and everything and cry. I came home, we had supper, and then it was batcave time (when we all retire to our respective rooms for solitude and brain reboots.) I zonked by 8:30. Unfortunately, I kept waking up every two hours even though I could barely keep my eyes open to sit up. I hate those nights, even if they aren’t the norm.
Today was supposed to be better, I’d been told I wasn’t needed at the shop and all I could think was, thank god, regroup time for the brain.Well…His daughter went into labor so I was beckoned for the whole day. Bex came with me. It was in spurts, calls, people coming in, but died off toward 2pm. Thank God. Kenny came in and I just started feeling overly crowded and stressed. Which puts me in a mood and makes me hateful because I feel threatened thus go on the defensive.
It’s 91 degrees today and we are sweating our butts off, but at least we are safely ensconced in the safe zone. I’ve had enough of my brain being hammered at. Voices have become like nails on a chalkboard, this is where I am grateful for Becca’s moods and being quiet. She gets it.
It’s just been a bumpy road. And it figures it comes on the heels of telling the shrink how well I am doing.
Well, some days I am, some days, not so much. When I feel crowded and anxious, it’s not good. If I am up and sort of manic, then it’s great.
In other news, I cut my hair off to my shoulders. It’s too fucking hot and I needed a change. Sad thing is, I hacked off 6 inches of hair and R and Kenny didn’t even notice thus proving…I am scenery. Nothing noticeable, just present. And it’s not so much attention seeking, I most often like blending into the woodwork. Just…six inches of hair is pretty drastic and the only responses I got, after pointing it out, were, “Oh, so you did cut your hair” and “I liked you with long hair, but you have an 80’s Joan Jett thing going on now.”
Then Kenny told me I am “one of the guys” which explains much. That’s why they have no problem dehumanizing women (R’s nickname for this one girl is “Tits”) and why they don’t notice anything about me. I’ve always had guy friends and I like being one of the guys rather than a set of tits, but damn. You can’t discuss women in front of a woman in demeaning terms without a little backlash.
Because of this, Kenny has slapped the label “Manhater” on me. No, I hate asshole behavior, which unfortunately seems exclusive to men when it comes to my gender.
Even in the best mood hearing women reduced to little more than body parts is gonna piss me off. I don’t understand how being referred to as “crazy bitches” by men is not woman hating but if you call a man on sexist pig behavior, that makes you a man hater. I really need to meet a better class of people or just avoid them all together.
I am soo cool with the latter. People are nothing but a migraine waiting to happen sometimes and I don’t have the skills to cope with it. Or more like, I don’t have the patience or desire to be bothered coping with it.
I cut my kid’s hair, too, chin length. I am awaiting the backlash from my family, my mother gets bent if I even cut the kid’s bangs. But she sees mommy getting a haircut, she sees her friends getting haircuts, so she wanted one. And since she doesn’t want the fuss of brushing and detangling long hair…Bye bye it went. It will grow out but I don’t think I did a bad job. Besides…It makes her happy, she keeps stroking her own hair and smiling and striking poses.
Grrr. The heat, the anxiety, it’s all making me an impossibly cranky person. Brain reboot time soon. So I can turn around and do it all again tomorrow.
The grind of the school year is tough for me.
The boredom of summer is too.
I can’t be made happy so I am just gonna give up on happy.
These days, if I make it through without slapping someone due to impatient anger or having a panic induced spaz out…I consider it a good day.
You take what you can get, even if it’s not exactly what you want. Small victories. Often, that’s all there are.