Put Your Life Mask On

So my beloved Wednesday 13 has a song called “Put Your Death Mask On”…and it’s a kick ass song but after my appointment with my nurse doc today…it occurred to me, death masks are final. What I wear every day is a life mask. Pretending to find joy where I really don’t. Living in fear of the other shoe dropping. Smiling when I want to snarl and Z whack non zombie skulls just because I am so damned frustrated with it all…

In my blog I am the real me. Mouthy, uncertain, stubborn, insecure, grouchy, fuck off if you don’t like it. I mean, I pour my heart and soul into my posts and I’m lucky if it resonates for the same 6 people. Meanwhile someone writes a post about faith in God or changing your diet and they get three thousand likes. Tells me all I need to know about the world and my feelings about the world when the mask is off. I just dislike humanity on a whole. Its vapid mindless hive thinking processes. And more than I loathe all of that, I loathe myself for even wanting to get a single like or comment because it means, I, too, have fallen victim to hive mindedness and that is unforgiveable.

Unless I remind myself I’ve never been of Borg ilk or my life would have been very different. I don’t necessarily want to be liked. Hell, I don’t mind being disagreed with, at all, long as one can make an educated argument against my own. I think it’s more validation that I crave than it is “love me love me love me or my soul will wither and die”. Still…needing validation at all make me feel weak and hate myself. Damn this being human thing.

Life keeps throwing punches. For weeks I have been sweating every unknown call on the phone, expecting it to be the mobile dentist office calling to find out if I got my kid into a specialist for that bad tooth. Because if I don’t, I am neglectful, but because I live in small town hell and my kid has Medicaid, the doctors aren’t lining up to take it all on…I found a pegacorn, however, with a generic Dentaquest card in my mail box the other day. I went to the website, picked a name, and hot damn, she got my kid in the very next day. She was amazing with Spook. And they did X rays and the bad tooth was a baby tooth, not a permanent tooth like mobile dentist guy said, so while there was screaming and moderate thrashing…Dr. K managed to pull that bad tooth with only novacaine and now my kid’s dental health is all caught up and I didn’t have to drive out of town or sell an organ to cover it.

That was a win.

Then came the losses. Hey, our heat is still out and suddenly, it’s in the thirties. YAY. Oh, and that load of laundry that isn’t getting dry…well, surprise, your dryer is throwing out zero heat. OMG, winner winner, salmonella infested dinner! I can’t catch a fucking break here. I will never get out from under it all. And there’s no way that dryer’s coming out, not with the floor caving in the way it is. I’ve come to terms with leaving pretty much everything I can’t carry myself behind because it will all be bug infested anyway. But I had hoped the washer and dryer would hold up a little longer. Like til…zombie apocalypse when we’re too worried about survival to care if our laundry is April fresh…It sent me into a meltdown, of course, and my kid was in pain from the tooth extraction but still making constant demands and I was just trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to do…

The wheels nearly came flying off. I took a double Xanax. So when R popped by to get a cd he asked me to burn, he wanted me to drive across town to fetch his gadget so he could do measurements on the furnace. I explained after that much Xanax….driving is not the thing for me to do. One mg, fine. But two mg, after getting very little sleep due to a dentist-fearing child keeping me up…That would have been impaired driving. He got pissed off. I said fuck it, we’ll freeze waiting for ass trash landlord to send some incompetent fool to look at it.

The plan is for him to take a peak tonight, he doesn’t think it’s anything too major aside from some unsoldered wires. Which the landlord’s guys would see and say, no, just order another $200 board because we’re too fucking stupid to take some readings and use a soldering iron.

This was all after The Ultimate Insult, of course. He went on his politics tirade, I keep saying agree to disagree, and he told me if I don’t get on board with republicans and Trump, they will put Hillary in office and she wants to send all people on public aid of any kind, inc disability, to an internment camp. Hmm, pretty sure the republicans do too, so what’s the difference? He essentially told me I am blind and moronic and I said you need to go before this becomes a real fight. I mean, cut it loose, already. I don’t agree on Trump being better than Hillary or vice versa. I hate politics. It’s ruining relationships because everyone is so sure they are right but we’re all probably wrong anyway. But basically having a friend tell you “get a job cos you’re going to an internment camp otherwise”…just wow. Like my brain needs help with suicidal ideation.

Of course, I didn’t mention the ‘s’ word to nurse doc. I’m not quite ready for the butterfly net yet. I did confide in her about how I am helping R out for that promised car and I mentioned his reference to internment camps and even she seemed stunned why a friend would say something so cruel. She should meet my family if she wants a real lesson in how cruel “loved” ones can be. She seemed mostly concerned about my not sleeping solidly, suggested I double or triple the melatonin. Not a bad idea unless it renders me unable to get up with my child in the morning. She raised the Trintellix to 20mg daily and printed me a flyer for a twice monthly support group. I am betting she’s making her copious notes about what a nutbar I am because she mentioned therapy and I said, quote, “I’d love to go to therapy if there were any other place in town my insurance covers aside from the one that broke my confidentiality twice.” Doc nurse seems skeptical of everything I say and maybe to a point, I am off kilter. But those medical confidentiality laws are there for a reason and when someone betrays them-and you-more than once…who would want to go back to that level of incompetence, not to mention out and out cruelty?

So…I am trying to pick up the pieces. I brought the wet clothes to the shop because for some reason there’s a dryer here and R said to knock myself out and use it. So for now, I guess that’s how our laundry will be getting dried even though it’s such a hassel. It’s a temporary solution. Next on the list is the heat, of course. Wearing gloves indoors is not optimal.

Which is weird because I have to fight my kid to bundle up during the cold mornings, she says she’s overheated, but indoors, she wants to wear gloves. Anything to amp up the drama. She fell and skinned her knees the other day and had two adults packing her home and one of them hollaring that she got hurt and I was thinking she was gushing blood…Nope. Standard issue kid skinned knees, not a drop of blood. She was even smiling as they were babying her and carrying her toward me. I want to be a caring parent but feeding that manipulative drama streak…ain’t happening. I patched her up and ten minutes later she took the band aids off and declared herself ready to go play again. After all that drama…

She’s 8. I have to keep reminding myself.

In fact I keep making excuses for everyone’s jerk behavior all the while flogging myself to the point my stomach hurts all the time. Until the break in the mold when I don’t have to contend with this shop and R. Or K randomly telling me I’m good with old people, I should get a job in home health care. WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE SO CONCERNED WITH ME HAVING A JOB? They don’t get that able bodied does not mean able minded. I am hanging by a fucking thread, getting zero joy out of life aside from sleep, and faking pretty much every damn action I take except maybe hugging my kid or cats. But yeah, I have all these people up in my business when I’m not asking them for stuff (well, I did ask R for help with the furnace, but him offering to buy me a car, nope, I’m happy with ugly beaters, he’s the one who thinks a car needs to also look good, and it’s his money but i did NOT ask)…

GRRRR. The cracks in the mask are appearing at random intervals. Like when the devil girls got banned from playing with my kid because I dared to tell some mouthy teenager she could kiss my big fat butt. I snapped. I should be more mature, but I have a breaking point and it seems to happen in spurts of inappropriate behavior like that. God knows what is next. Worst thing for me right now is being around R because he won’t stop the political bullshit, we will never agree, and it’s destroying our friendship. He refuses to see it, but he’s right and I’m wrong and democrats or progressives or well, everyone but republicans are evil.

But we need heat so I will suck it up tonight, feign the niceties, hell, I will lie my ass off and claim I was all wrong, Trump-ublicans are the second coming….IF it means working heat. Once I get heat, I’ll rescind my status as a sell out. This is survival, not the time for pride and ethics and standing my ground.

Besides, with fake news and social media and government manipulations…I’m not convinced I have true facts that form any of my opinions. All I can rely on is what I heard in the past, from Mr.Trump’s own words, and his current Tweetstorms. And I don’t think he’d blink any more than Hillary would to toss the “undesirables” into camps or mass graves.

The country has come to the point where Gattaca is around the corner. Anything less than perfect or uber productive is on the chopping block.

Is my paranoia showing?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I really hope I am wrong and there are decent people out there in the government who mean well.

Yeah. Try saying that aloud with smirking.

Back to wearing my life mask. My kid gets out of school early today which means two hours of her here at the shop bored out of her mind and making me suffer for it. Because nothing I do for her is ever good enough and trying is sucking the life out of me.

Sometimes, I think the mask is the only thing that gets me through. If I were to ever let loose with how mentally shattered I really am…Let’s just say there’d be a need for a lot of white coated people with very large butterfly nets.

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