Yep. Another post involving The A Word. The dreaded anxiety. Free floating today. I don’t know why, perhaps hangover the week in the petri dish even if it was a shorter week thanks to many appointments for my kid and me. (My kid and I? Whatever.) Still, it was a trying week just the same, possibly because while the appointments got me out of the shop, I was actually dealing with other, far more public and populated places. It definitely took a toll.
Fortunately, not so much as to cripple me today. Still managed to drag my ass for a couple of yard sales (in part due to my kid’s relentless nagging, I think without it, I probably would have said forget about it.) We also went to three different stores for various household supplies. By the last store, I was at the end of my rope with traffic and noise and people. Especially a tense moment at the last place, which had nothing whatsoever to do with me. Some woman jumped this dude who came in on a motorcycle and I guess he was going too fast and almost ran into her and her little girl. As I have renumerated, I don’t handle confrontation at all, even when it’s nothing to do with me. I seriously thought these two were going to come to blows and it set off every panic receptor in my body. FLIGHT, FLIGHT, FLIGHT. Sadly, I’ve got too little fight left in me except for the big picture stuff. Survival and all.
There has been the added drama of my kid’s social life. First I get a note from S’s mom asking if S can stay the night with Spook, she has no phone anymore so we have to write notes. So I said okay, after 5 p.m. so I can get some stuff done. Then came the devil girls (they are oddly now allowed to play with my kid since I became the neighborhood spokesperson, getting all the kids back on the school bus route) and of course, my kid can’t play with more than one or 2 at a time and there was drama. Name calling. Thievery. S doesn’t want to stay now, and I guess she told her mom to say no and that upset my kid, who then said she didn’t want S to stay, she wanted the devil girls. I have no idea what is going on now. I will stand by my word if S does show up to stay, but otherwise…Enough fucking drama. My nerves don’t need it.
I am stressing because our kittens, Adelitas and Sachel, will not start eating solids and their shitty mom Cleo has declared them weaned and refuses to feed them. I got Kitten Chow, moistened it with water, with warm milk. They aren’t interested and I am terrified they are going to starve themselves. So I’ve taken to using a medication syringe to feed them tiny bits of the Nutri-gel, in hopes it will stimulate their appetite while nourishing them. I don’t want to lose my two little Manx kitties. Well, Sachel is a bobtail but Addy is pure Manx, not even a nub of a tail. Beautiful, sweet lil babies.
I was further distressed by a visit from stepmonster. That beast had to the nerve to gush to me how their neighbor’s car broke down so they loaned her one of their 5 vehicles. Yet these people couldn’t lift a finger when my last 3 cars went belly up. Can’t help their own fucking family, but help a damned neighbor they’re not related to. And oh, supposedly it’s cos she’s a single mom with a toddler but I know the fucking truth. It’s because she has a job and with my dad, that’s all that has ever mattered. You don’t work, you’re dirt. It doesn’t matter the reason. You could be in a coma and he’d expect you to have a job. More than being hurt, it just pissed me off. They didn’t give a damn when I was stranded, with their granddaughter and they had extra vehicles. I haven’t had any sort of accident or speeding ticket in 25 years. Last ticket I had was when Spook was an infant and it was for a stupid seatbelt violation. It’s not like I’m a terrible driver. They’re just fucking rude and cruel.
I may have my issues with my mom and sister’s zoo-esque lifestyle living together like a commune but when I had no car, my mom came through letting me have back the one I gave her, then giving me the old one Dad had passed onto hers. I just don’t get my dad and stepmonster sometimes. Everyone seems to like them but the way they treat me and Spook is rather monstrous. They’re still taking food to my mom and sister’s crew (they usually make my sis clean their house to earn it, but they don’t offer me that option, because stepmonster prefers my sister’s cleaning to mine and hey, fair enough, whatever) but mom and sis have triple the income I have, they get food stamps, and still, Dad helps them out more than us.
And don’t think my kid, even at 8, hasn’t noticed how little the whole family helps us while helping the other side so much. “I’m sorry you’re not Grandpa and Grandma’s favorite child, Mom.” FFS. Do these people not see how that belittles me in my child’s eyes? Of course, it doesn’t much impact her opinion of them, because hey,sometimes they take her places or buy her stuff or in my mom’s case, she shovels 4 cupcakes her way every other hour. What’s to not like when you’re 8.
The saving grace is that I have long been an outside in my own family, i’m pretty used to it. And taking any help from my dad’s faction is akin to taking out a loan from a loanshark, even when you’re paid up, you’re still having it held over your head. Not worth it.
I was also treated from two seperate sides on donor sightings around town. I don’t know why they bother, I don’t care if the man lives or dies. Hopefully he lives in agony until he’s a hundred as punishment for abandoning all 3 of his kids and blaming the moms instead of owning his own asshole-i-ness. Someone swears they saw him working at a gas station here in town. Well, good for him, maybe the state will enforce the child support at some point. He was also spotted at the hospital and frankly, I hope he has an STD. Yeah, I’m evil. And I barely think of the man until people start bringing him up and of course, they’re all outraged at his shitty treatment of Spook and the fact he blames it all on me. As stepmonster pointed out, he saw her and dad with Spook out in public multiple times and he didn’t even cast a longing look to his child, he actually turned away, didn’t even attempt to talk to her. And she was with them, so he can’t play the “Niki will start a scene, that crazy bitch” card.
In some cases, it’s less denial and more apathy that keeps me feeling less…volatile and spiteful. If I don’t hear about him, I forget he even exists for the most part. Wishing him ill is just me lowering myself to his level, but at some point the emotions do get the better of me and I lash out in tiny, petty ways. I’m a lowly human. To my credit, at least on the two occasions we encountered him in public, I made no scene and I didn’t punch him. I mean, if I’m so volatile and intimidating, that would be the expected response, right? But I didn’t. Because I’ve grown as a person, in spite of shitty circumstances and a misbehaving brain.
I lost the med lottery today. And it’s weird. I ate first, took my meds, ate a little afterward. And still got slammed with nausea and a headache and grogginess, not to mention acid reflux. And I had the audacity to do my usual and lay down in my dark bedroom waiting for it to pass and Spook’s posse came in and accused me of falling asleep and not supervising my kid. I was not asleep, ffs. I am able to lay down and close my eyes without nodding off 99.9% of the time. Nothing gets my dander up like a false accusation. Especially from a bunch of mouthy brats.
I am feeling better now, though 0.5 mg Xanax barely took the edge off the A word. I guess this is my new norm. I wonder if the dual anti depressant therapy could be heightening the anxiety, that is known to happen. But going into seasonal affective disorder, I can’t afford to cut back the anti depressants. Oh, and that’s one more stressor, my Medicare drug plan stuff came and they’ve changed the forumulary covering even fewer brand drugs, and they’ve made it clear they intend to to switch all of us to a similar drug that is cheaper. Which means before 2018 I’ve got to get the nurse doc’s office on a waiver so they can’t take Trintellix away from me. I am all for cheaper as long as the med has the same effect. But I’ve tried their idea of “similar” and none of them worked. If they yank out the one that helps I am screwed.
So all things considered…I guess I have many reasons to be anxiety ridden and to have spiteful or fearful feelings. And even if it’s not justified, it’s still real and it’s still a pain in the ass.
Social security disability reviews always ask for examples of how my disorders interfere with my ability to lead a normal, quality life.
The more proper question is, how don’t they?