Trick question. My ass looks fat in everything. I’m good with that. Fluffy is my “porcushield” to discourage attention from dish dwellers. Approach with caution or the quills pop out. People freak me the fuck out. Thank you, anxiety disorder.
(Thanks to Diane for the above graphic, you know me so well, chick.)
BTW…No pep talks about “being so down on myself.” Self deprecating humor as a means of preemptive strike against detractors is what got me through six grueling years of school bullying. If I can’t make fun of my flaws, I may as well drink bleach and snort Comet (with crystals!)
The last couple of days have had me thinking long and hard about how shrinks can so completely ignore the connection between mood and weather in bipolar disorder. They want to call it “seasonal depression”, get lots of light, lick the belly of a baby seal, etc…Wednesday it was gray, spitting rain and snow, and I was just freezing and couldn’t get comfortable outside a blankie fort. It was like a hobgoblin sneaked in and stole all sensation of warmth. And fetching my kid in it, standing outside five mins while they took their sweet time dismissing, didn’t help. I came home, ate hot ham and beans and cornbread, then curled back up under a blanket. And spent the whole evening anxiety ridden and praying R didn’t pop in to socialize cos I wasn’t feeling it. By that point, the maintenance work one trailer down had been banging on for ten hours. I found two shots’ worth of whiskey left at the back of a cabinet and dumped it into my Coke.
Bad coping mechanism, but ya know, when you hit your max Xanax for the day and the noise is still making your bones crawl out of your skin…You will lick hallucinogenic frogs for relief. McMuggles view this as weakness but when the worst anxiety you comprehend is public speaking…It’s easy to judge. Try spending your entire life with that feeling.
Yesterday wasn’t so bad as it warmed up, sun came out, and I had the goal of paying bills and ugh…Xmas shopping. Which meant a trip to Wal-mart. And I bought like two things cos what I went there to get her…was sold out. So all that time, gas, stress…for nada. And I got further irked because a kind elderly man in a wheelchair asked me to help him because he couldn’t get a single fucking employee to the department no matter how many times he rang the bell. I saw some management types, marched up to them, and told them he’d been waiting twenty minutes, could they find someone to help him.
On the plus side, since I was all the way out there, I stopped at Dollar General…and got most of her Christmas presents in one place. (Frozen this, that, everything fucking Elsa.)
I went to pay rent. New girl was taking payments. I asked, “Can you make sure you write that down in the book? Last time someone forgot and I got a late notice when I’d already paid, it freaked me out.”
And the landlord himself comes out of his office scoffing, “That happened one DAMN time…”
Well, panic attacks don’t care if it’s happened once or ten thousand times. I’ve busted my ass trying to do better and get things paid on time, it just freaked me out to be in a position of…well, ya know. Being the “old” me. She was a lot of fun but man, what a fuck up.
I just found his scoffing an annoyance. “one damn time”. Fuck you.
It was more errands after that, more noise next door. One more panic attack when there was a knock on the door. Neighbor kid who doesn’t even wave at me but he wanted to bum a smoke. Whatever. Been there myself. He’s the one who has the bumper sticker that says “horn broken, look for finger.” I can abide.
I am, after all, driving around with what looks like a Subway logo that says “zombies eat flesh” (eat fresh.) I respect that kind of humor.
I splurged five bucks for a discount dvd for my kid cos she’s been driving me nuts all week with her “i’m bored”…three movies for five bucks. (Beethoven one,two, three, she loves dogs.) Kept her laughing all night. It was a nice breather, and it felt good to have finally gotten something right with her. R popped over and he wanted to watch some movie called Lucy. It wasn’t bad. What sucked was his hypocrisy. He spends half his day on the damned phone looking at youtube and texting, yet I pulled out my droid to check out Dominos cos I was hungry and he had the nerve to snap at me for being on it and not focusing on the movie. WTF is that. I just wanted food.
I never did get food. And I took my meds this morning, not having eating anything since 5 last night when I had beef jerky so I feel all nauseous now. Yay. This never gets old. Med after med, always with nausea if you don’t eat first. I’m not a breakfast person unless someone else is cooking. In which case…two eggs over easy, bacon, hash browns, white gravy…
More noise from maintenance. That trailer’s been empty three years and bam, over the last five days they’ve pretty much overhauled it and been speedy about it. Can only mean one thing…Either the landlord got a section 8 tenant or the trailer’s so trashed they’re just breaking it down before hauling it away. I just want the daily noise to go away. It’s making me a damned basketcase. Because I don’t care if it’s music I like, I can only handle it a moderate level for brief intervals. Brain simply can’t take rapid fire noise with any grace.
I think R wants me to come in today. I’m not feeling it. Cos it’s a project he’s had me come in to do six times in the last month and he always gets on a different track and nothing gets done but me being out of my bubble and irked. I guess I could spew sunshine and say at least it’s quieter there but…Ha, no, the road department is doing work right by the shop. No escape, least here I feel safe. Ish.
On an end note…My kid was chattering in the backseat en route to school this morning and I replied…She said, “I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Melissa.” So I played along with the imaginary friend thing and asked why Melissa won’t talk to me when I’m nice enough to let her live with us.
Spook replied, “Melissa doesn’t like you cos she’s a ghost and eats ghost food and you don’t.”
I love by Boo-berry cereal I can only get at Halloween. I don’t think I like Melissa very much.