So, wtf is with that bizarr-o title, you may ask. Well, being the antagonistic world mocking troll that I am I took note recently that two of my posts that included the word “bipolar” in the title got twice the views as my less specific titled ones. Is that because they were better written? No. It’s because we live in a trend-obsessed society of people who surf tags and titles for content as opposed to simply reading something before deciding it’s crap and of no interest to them. This hurts all TWO Of my feelings. I will never grasp a world so vapid that a post about what condiments one put on their sub sandwich for lunch that day can garner 2000 likes and yet I can write a heartfelt ode to a fallen friend and get trolling comments about how boring my writing is. So here’s your fucking condiment post with a specific topic that I probably will not stick to because….I like to troll and antagonize mindless sheeple.
(And for the record, I’m having no condiments today because I am eating leftover chicken seasoned so well, it needs nothing else for flavor,tyvm.)
Another long depression filled weekend complete with agonizing cramps and backaches and the never ending interrupted sleep cycle. We took in new kittens, and the timing is awful, but I’d agreed weeks ago when things weren’t going well and to learn they were being half mauled by the owner’s pit bull…Vex and Hex are now our family. Unfortunately, Vex is having trouble with mommy cat seperation anxiety and for three days straight has opted to wake me at 3 a.m. with crying and attempts to eat my face. Literally, gnawing on my face and nose. And this is with Godsmack doing his usual mouth nomming all during the night. One would think I could close the door, solve it, right? Oh, noooo. There is a second door that leads to the bathroom and the kid’s ripped it off the hinges years ago. It has only a curtain and since the bathroom’s main door has a 10 inch gap at the bottom, not even closing it keeps them out.
And me even thinking about turning away my kitties should tell you how exhausted, irritated, and frustrated I truly am. Normally they are a comfort but right now, everything is just piling up and there is no comfort.
Except that’s not entirely true, Godsmack seems to be liking his new role as big kitten on campus, he is patient with those adoring noobs as any mama cat. It makes him less lonely and that is good. Let him bathe their flesh raw and leave mine alone.
My kid, as ever, is a joy. And by that, I mean, she won’t cooperate on the tiniest things, fights me at every turn, refuses to eat real food but calls me a starver for denying it her 5 ice cream bars in one day. She wants to watch TV with me, but she talks through every word of it. I can’t make a call and she’s talking through, that, too. She reads my email and texts over my shoulder. I can’t sit without her being so close our elbows are touching and if I move abruptly and accidentally jar her, she calls me an abuser. And before any well meaning entity tells me ‘stop letting her get away with it’…you come spend some time with this kid and be the one who has to constantly tell her no. There is no letting her get away with it. I hang tough and it just makes the fights go on and on and still, I don’t back down and still, she keeps fighting me. I may not be at my finest now and I may not have much to give but she takes and takes and takes without returning much most days so I end up feeling like roadkill and she’s the vulture picking meat off my carcass. Not warm and fuzzy mommy enough for you?
At 3:49 a.m. today she gave me a heart attack, so to speak, by ninja creeping into my room to tell me she couldn’t get comfortable. I told her to go back to her own bed, but instead she brought the kittens in and they got to making noise and I was in pain from cramps and exhausted and I just wanted to go back to sleep cos I was supposed to make up for turkey day at the shop by being there Monday morning….I eventually had to lure the cats away with food and order her back to her bed, raging under my breath that I was either going to give away kid and cats or run away myself, anything to get more than 3 hours of bloody solid sleep a night….
I am not a monster. I am, however, being ground down to dust and it is taking a toll. During summer it wasn’t as awful because at least it wasn’t dark at 5 p.m. thus signaling even my child that it’s bedtime. Bad enough my seasonal depression makes me want to go to bed that early. Now every night once it hits 5:30 pm. she starts rioting when I refuse to tuck her in. This seasonal shit has fucked up every goddamn aspect of every goddamn thing and yes, from my overuse of swearing, you can tell I am goddamn stressed out and pissed off.
But I made it to the shop. After she went to school I went back to sleep. Wandered in here a little after eleven. Fuck it. He’s out of state indefinitely, what’s he gonna do? Yell at me on the phone? This is generally the point for the history of my life where jobs and relationships fall apart because I am falling apart and I am becoming unreliable, unfocused, screwing up little things, hating even minor social niceties for taking even more from me than I have to give.
But hey there’s a bright side. 5 days from now the curse will be over, the pain will subside, and my hormones will level out so that my insanity level will crank down a few notches. YAY. So I can handle Fangsgiving festivities which even with no drama still seem to be more stressful than heart warming good fun. Depression has really robbed me of everything joyful and good.
I know much of it is depression and hormones because a couple weeks back I took a picture of the ground covered in leaves and thought, so this is why it’s called fall, the leaves all fall and make this pretty patchwork on the ground….Now does that sound like a thought from someone who simply has a bad personality and negative attitude? Or is what I truly am inside when not being pummeled by hormones, bipolar, seasonal depression, stress, and anxiety?
I’d sure like to know if that leaf admiring girl could come out and play more often. I kind of liked her. And that, my friends, is what depression does to you. It makes your best traits seem like a whole other person you wish you could hang out with all the while dooming you to being the one trapped in darkness and hopelessness.
That is a sandwich no amount of condiments on earth could make taste better.