It’s just one of those givens in life that we take for granted. Until something necessary breaks and then you realize…HEATING IS NOT OPTIONAL. My mood and will to live and comfort level skyrocketed last night when R got our heat working. It had two seperate issues but he took 45 minutes, took measurements, fixed some loose connections, banged the blower motor into submission, and voila…my daughter and I woke up to warmth this morning instead of an ice palace.
Gratitude is immense.
Hell, I may just bite the bullet and start nodding mindlessly during his political tirades. I’ve never given a damn before and I really don’t give a damn now, it’s just that natural rebel instinct that kicks in when someone tries to tell me their opinion is the ONLY legit one. I don’t think they could put Scooby Doo into office without me finding something to disagree on, like, I am totally not eating Scooby snacks to honor you, dude…It’s all become so clearly ridiculous to me. Leave me out of politics. My personal beliefs have nothing to do with their agendas, they’re just the ones fucking with my rights to those personal beliefs and the right to practice them. Aside from that…I’m out. Let Prez Trump do his thing and hope for ‘the best. I’m done getting ulcer-like stomach aches about a topic that truly bores me to death. I think I can mindlessly nod and pretend to agree or be interested during R’s tirades. God knows I do it often enough for my child’s tirades on everything from My Little Pony to Pokemon to ‘you’re the worst mom ever because you won’t let me change my outfit for the sixth time today!” At some point…you just gotta let the children have their tantrums and disengage as much as you can.
Children…Yeah, even with the seasonal depression coming on due to the lack of sunlight and the cold temps…I can’t fucking wait. REALLY. Her friends being at my house day in and day out, and even when I send them away they still play out in our yard which gets her all wound up…Bring on the 5 p.m. darkness and cold so these brats will go indoors. I let S stay at our house to catch the church van last night and come 8:30 when they got back…she couldn’t find her mom. House was dark and locked, I got no message or call-who the fuck does that???? Wasn’t til after 9 when the mom finally drove up looking for her kid. WTF? And this was all while R was trying to fix the furnace so I am sure the stampeding shrieking kids helped him focus. I was gonna tell Spook no more of this girl catching the bus at our house but apparently, it’s not an issue cos that whole family is moving next weekend. And much as I don’t like to see my kid’s heart broken…Buh-bye. The only thing the trailer hood retains and replaces more than bugs and cop cars driving through are people moving in with oodles of kids she can play with next spring.
I’m kind of a monster, I guess. Oh, well. It’s life.
Actually, I only have monstrous tendencies when pushed to my limits. And I’d say her dentist appointment, me seeing the nurse doc, going without heat several cold days, losing all our kittens, the dryer breaking down…Yeah, the monster is peaking out because damn…too damn much going wrong too or being demanded of me when I am running on E. I’m doing my best. Even if those around me seem to want me to feel otherwise. Fuck ’em.
I took doc nurse’s advice about upping my melatonin at night so maybe I can stay asleep. Well..I woke a couple of times but went back to sleep…but come alarm time, I was so groggy I could barely sit up and help my kid zip her coat. So until they create a sleep helper that doesn’t leave me that impaired come morning…I’m just gonna have to live with interrupted sleep and never being fully rested.
The more I think back to my visit with nurse doc yesterday, the more convinced I am that for whatever reasons…I really want to go back to Dr. B. I can’t explain it, I just….feel like she is skeptical of everything I say. She finally stoppd the perpetual clacking on the computer while I talk but there’s still…something unsettling there. I can’t get true help from someone I feel is…well, not team Morgue. Dr. B always made it clear he was pulling for me and he recognized my intelligence and potential and he empathized openly with what I am going through…Maybe it’s her fresh out of the box master’s degree but I’m not getting what I need from my appointments with her. And as society as trained me because, hey, I am mental, I keep bullying myself to suck it up, they’re just glorified pill pushers anyway, does it matter who writes the script? To me…I guess it kind of does matter yet here I am, months later with the same feelings and still invalidating myself because it’s what I’ve been programmed to do.
I’ll leave the deep thought for another time. For today…we have heat at home, food in the fridge, we are physically healthy, our cats are good…There are things to be grateful for.
I think depression may be the greatest magician of all time the way it presents me with its grand illusions of impending doom. Of course, when that’s basically 7 months of your life every single year…the illusion is the reality even if the doom isn’t real. My feelings are real. And if depression were a person, I’d totally tell them to fuck off and just avoid them or make a voodoo doll of them.
Unfortunately, I can’t walk away from my own brain and its trickery. Ain’t that the big problem. No escaping me.