Doing the opposite

TRIGGER WARNING…..

I’m fucking drunk.  I’m mentally ill and having a VERY bad moment… ok it’s been a few hours but wtf ever.  I am not going to be talking about fluffy kittens and unicorns.  If that is why you’re here then here:

These are not my pictures.  I just googled them.

Now, if that’s what you wanted then leave now.  It only gets darker from here.

 

 

 

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Still there?  wow.  grew a pair of ovaries did we?  whatever.  your sanity.

 

I get drunk when I have a breakdown so that shit makes sense to me.

Having a breakdown is not a picnic.  It’s a literal shitstorm in your mind.  Like everything in the world is just the same as it was, but now everything is screaming at you.  Inanimate objects, your internal voices (which apparently there’s really only supposed to be one but I have 6 so take that. XP)  Today it was the babygate that seperated the living room from the kitchen.  I scolded Mik (ben’s daughter) for the nth time for stepping over the damn thing instead of using it properly like i have asked her to do since it got put in the house last year.  It literally takes more effort to step over the damn thing than it does to open it and walk through.  I take a minute and do some sweeping trying to figure out why I don’t like it and tell her this:

“I don’t like you stepping over the gate because you are disrespecting my wishes and not using the gate properly.  Kind of like your door.  If I was to just open it as I so pleased without your permission then you get upset.  So please use the gate correctly and i’ll use your door correctly.”

her response? “well, you’ve walked in on me without my permission before”

My response. “Fine.  I’ll use your door as i please and you can just kick the gate down for all I care.  Does that work for you?” of course I”m not at muy normal talking voice but she starts telling me that i’m yelling.  loud-noises.gif

I don’t yell easily.  I just know how to project my voice to be heard over people.  It’s not yelling if i’m not straining.

I give up.  She finishes with the dishes and I continue with cleaning the damn living room, which has turned against me in my mind.  The fucking piano had evil eyes that wanted to kill me.  She goes for a walk and I finish cleaning before losing my shit.

everything is yelling in my head even though the house is silent. Fucking silent and all i can hear is screams.  I want to die.  Instead I take down the fucking gate so that I don’t have to have the god damn argument again.  I begin crying and wailing because of what the gate meant and how it was supposed to be there for david but david isn’t here anymore.  He can’t live here until ben fixes the fucking pipe.  when will that be?  Gods only know.

So I drink.  Because being drunk means my meltdown makes sense.  My blubbering and anger and the screaming everything makes more sense.  Because right now my head doesn’t.

 

That moment when…

So I don’t know about you guys, but since starting my anti-anxiety meds instead of having full-on panic attacks I will have moments of self hatred but not coming from myself. I know that doesn’t necessarily make sense but here’s one way that I can describe it:

My brain is a Megabus.

Usually everyone’s quiet and is along for the ride most of them are sleeping others are equipping in with obvious observations about the outside world. Some are even having social-psychological conversations with themselves giving me quite a bit to think about. But when I start to have a lot of anxiety they all wake up and they’re all start shouting at me, the bus driver. And they begin driving from every seat in the bus but my own. If anyone has worked in retail you will probably understand this. Being the bus driver means that I can’t react I can simply say shut up period sometimes but usually it’s just shut up.

But sometimes my mind is a terrorist.

And because I’m American I’m sure I have to sit here and explain that no I do not mean someone wearing a turban speaking Arabic or someone from another country that other less educated Americans would believe to be terrorists. I apologize if I offend anyone I really do not mean to this is not the point of my blog. I’m actually quite fascinated with cultures languages and people around the world and if you would love to talk to me please message me. Or not I would totally understand. As I have told my boyfriend you should not stick your dick in crazy or let crazy stick it stick and you. And I’m sure that correlates to messaging crazy people. But don’t quote me on that or do I don’t care. Maybe I do. Shit.

Any way back from that rant what I mean by my mind is a terrorist is the fact that sometimes those passengers who like to say mean things about how I’m driving like to jump into my lap or completely remove me from the driver seat and decide to drive it the way they want to which unfortunately is not always healthy for the bus AKA my body? Anyway so I take a an Emergency anti-anxiety pill which isn’t currently working.

I won’t bore, or scare, you with all the things that my brain tends to come up with but I can tell you that they are not nice and they are really demoralising and saddening.

Anyway, I’m currently house sitting for my best friend at the moment and will be for the next week so yay me and doing things on my own. hashtag trial run living on my own for the first time in my ever fucking life. But that story comes later.

It strikes in the night

I swear to God depression is going to kill me. I can’t hardly sleep and when I do sleep I have vivid dreams and when the vivid dreams are nightmares their dreams about getting back together with my ex-husband. I hate these dreams not only because it makes divorcing him that much harder, but it also makes waking up that much harder.

In real life my ex-husband and I get along pretty well. We could pass for friends if things weren’t so awkward. We still get along and talk about video games tabletop games that he’s running tabletop games that I want to be playing. I tell him about my progress on some of our favorite games that we used to play together. And of course we co-parent. We co-parent so will that it’s weird. I say that it’s weird because I’ve seen other divorced parents co-parent and my ex-husband and I do it really well. We rarely fight or go back on what we say or do. In fact we’d give each other lots of time and notification of our plans so much so that it makes co-parenting easy. And I know that I really shouldn’t be griping or complaining and maybe I am but it’s just odd. But maybe that’s just me. I am a little odd.

Then likes to tell me that I need to be open to the Future and any possibilities of my ex-husband and I getting back together and dating and so forth the possibility that things could go right again. I hate this advice and I wish you would stop telling me that. I don’t want to hear it because I know it won’t happen. I know I can’t be as happy as I am in my dreams. I can’t be monogamous and that’s all Zac wants is to be monogamous and I can’t blame him for that. If that’s what makes him happy then I want him to be happy.

Who can you call?

No one. Not at the moment. Ben is in the bedroom being grumpy at me because i don’t want to talk about the fact that I’m unhappy with the basement flooding with our own refuse because he refuses to skip a credit card bill or whatever to get it fixed. Instead he paid for a guy to clean out the pipes to give us “hopefully” a couple of months to save up.

My biggest problem?

Probably the fact that i made a decision as a grown ass person and mother to not allow my son to live in this house until the pipes are fixed. Hooray for me but Ben doesnt see it that way. He thinks i made a dumb decision (my words not his) to not have David here. Of course all i can think about is the fact that i still don’t have a job, I’m still living in this house, my house isn’t sold yet, I’m still not fucking divorced, and… i still can’t make a living doing anything.

Le sigh….

I know i shouldn’t try to rush things with the systems set up but I’ve been applying for jobs for months and i have nothing. I would upload my resume but that might be tmi.

Anyway… rant dinner for now. Here’s a couple of pictures i colored in to keep from hurting myself.

P.s. still thinking suicidal thoughts and they’re making me sick because all i can think of is saying goodbye to my son. The scariest thing is thinking about is how my brain is convinced he won’t miss me. *sobbing now*

Being Sneaky (aka a plea for pc’s)

I’m currently at my parents house, fiddling around with their new computer.  It’s a Mac and the only reason I’m fiddling with it is because I have no real knowledge of how to use it.  My parents had an older one before it crapped out and that one was a little bit easier to use than this one.

Which means I have barely enough knowledge to use it.  (insert internal screaming here)

is case and point:  it just took me 5 minutes to figure out how to download that gif.  fml.

anyway, back to being sneaky.  Ok.  I’m not being sneaky.  I just have to be quiet because my 20 year old brother is sleeping upstairs and I have to be quiet because you do NOT want to wake that bear.  I wish I had a picture of him to show you guys but he’s the most epic thing I have seen.  Long hair, long beard, and a laid back attitude to just about everything is pretty awesome.

P.S. If you are reading this and are not required by work or school to use a Mac computer, please get a windows computer.  they are so much more user friendly than Macs.  Macs have their place in the world but that world is not my life.

p.p.s.  This blog is not sponsored but if windows wants to sponsor me that would be totally boss.