It’s true. To hell with Spotify and all the ap madness. Bipolar has a built in ap called Splatify that you use whether you like it or not.
And so that is where all this “high functionality” has landed me today.
I basically slept from midnight til 12:30 p.m. I was up a few times, feed the cats, go pee, yell at the cats for knocking shit over and waking me up with panic cos I thought someone was in the house oiling a chainsaw in prep to kill me…(Okay, creative license there, but you get it.) For the most part all this functionality and socializing rendered me exhausted enough to sleep without melatonin. I think briefly I may have just died and I don’t remember even wanting to return. That’s TIRED.
The birthday party…Ugh. My kid had a blast. I got there before R and his wife and knew no one aside from the kids and birthday girl’s parents. My kid of course abandoned me to go play (fair enough) so I stood around feeling utterly uncomfortable and smiling in a possibly demented clown fashion. Three people is a crowd to me. There were at least parents there, no including all the kids.
I figure, okay, these people are most in their late twenties so of course they don’t know what to say to me. I figure, okay, let me put myself out on a limb here. Cos, after all, life lies and says to just be yourself and people will like you. If you TRY then you will be included.
Such fucking bullshit.
This one friend of Ursulas was one of the few people I vaguely “knew” from years of cookouts with R and his wife. She was talking about dyeing her hair and I think, oh, I can get in this conversation what with my love for Splat and Manic Panic. So I ask what color she is going with. She completely ignores me. Another person asks and she whips out the phone and looks it up. And shows the picture to every BUT me. I mean, I may as well have been invisible she went so far out of her way to exclude me. And i’ve never done a damn thing to this person.
THAT is why I talk about how shitty people are. I goddamn tried to put myself out there and totally got snubbed if not disrespected. It’s bullshit, especially when battling your own reluctant mood and rioting anxiety. Is it any wonder I prefer being alone?
Aside from R and his wife when they finally got there…I didn’t have anyone to talk to. They all either forced fake smiles and bypassed me like I had leprosy or just plain ignored me. I took a lot of panic breaks. Yes, panic breaks. I can only take crowds so much. I also needed a smoke. And I finally got to see my new prized car that doesn’t run. And wow, it’s such a bright red, it has earned the name Jezebel. It’s got some issues (I took a pic but am far too splat to bother transferring it here) but hey, for two hundred bucks and some labor that R and his son and law are fairly sure they can diagnose and fix…What the hell. It’s pretty much a done deal and mom’s on my ass about getting her car back so I am in that catch 22 place of “gun, knife, noose, I’m dead no matter what, at least choose the least painful method.”
My daughter was the one who broke the pinata open. And nearly took out the screen to their TV. (She’s my precious plum. Fuck a bag.) I just did a loose mental inventory of what they had to have spent on this shindig for forty plus people, all Disney brand name Elsa/Frozen theme, all the food and cake and shit…I bet, even rounding down, they spent over six hundred dollars. ON a two hour party. For a four year old. Then tell people no gifts, just donations to the homeless.
Hey, elitists..How about less lavish party stuff for a child who won’t remember it and YOU donate so people can give your kid presents???????
I know I am nightmare frugal, have issues with rich people and ostentation, and come off very judgey but REALLY? And I said the same damned thing about what my mom spent on my kid’s last birthday at Chuck E Cheese. If you have the excess income to throw such a shindig, then you can go donate, right????? Or put a price limit on the gifts and specify what donations are needed most with a price cap.
I try to wrap my head around it and I can’t. My kid is worth more money than the world has and all that but also…I don’t remember shit from my younger years so how much mom spent while we went hungry for the week just…UGH.
Yeah, yeah, it’s their money, I should mind my own business. But hey, when you live in a trailer park and have to listen to people talk about the low class uneducated scum that live in trailer parks, ha ha ha…You get an attitude. Just because people mean well and do right on the surface doesn’t make them good people.
I was glad to leave. Of course, I called mom about dropping Spook off and she said, “You need to bring her some food for snacks and supper and breakfast, we’re low on food and I don’t get a check for two weeks.”
Fine, nothing new there. Except the other day when I stopped by…my sister had a catalog out and was showing me all the shit she is gonna get on credit to decorate the house. I mean, really? You can’t keep enough money to buy enough food but you’re gonna go into debt for home decor cos who the fuck cares?
To add insult to injury…my sis’s friends were there with their 3 kids who were eating the food for mom and them…yet I have to bring my kid’s food. So family is shit and bums are it. How can I not loathe these people tied to me only by blood and some societal demand I claim them?
Now supper and drinks at the Mexican restaurant wasn’t so bad. Mrs R basically forced R to come along and he spent the entire time on his damn iphone playing POker and doing his rate a beer ap. RUDE and irritating. But at least we were in the far back in a booth and I didn’t have to deal with the mass crowd except for entrance and exit.
I was glad to get home. Yes, I am glad my kid had fun at the party. I had fun at dinner. But today I just feel like…I don’t know, like I donated every ounce of blood and can barely function. The house is biohazard level again and I don’t even have the energy to feel unfit mommy feelings. I am tapped out. Splat.
This is why I am always so torn between metering out my exposure to the dish and yet going with it when the energy, hypo mania or not, is there.
I am gonna go fetch my kid in a bit then…Fuck a bag. Beyond feeding her, bathing her, and making sure she has clean clothes for tomorrow…I’m not gonna sweat this other shit. I pushed myself, hard and far, and without all my meds balanced (fuck you pharmacy and doctor) so…
I am taking a mental health day. Ish.
This week I am gonna slow it down. Or I am gonna melt down, just like always.
Splatify, minus cool music. Welcome to bipolar 101.