Thoughts, Nonsense, Neurosis, Boom
Saturday, December 20, 2014
I don't have any crisis at the moment. My fall classes are finished and I aced them all. Money is okay. Kids are alright (I said that in Roger Daltrey's voice). Work...well, it's always one part boring, one part alright, and two parts big fucking mess, so that's nothing new. It's like there's this big lull, a sigh, a pause. And I don't know what to do. It's too quiet.
I realize I've got to find something wrong with everything. When things are going the best, I'm bracing for the worst. The after-Christmas hangover is coming, and that will last at least a month or two. So it's time to enjoy THE FUCK out of this Christmas, dammit.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Tonight's a little better. Bad time at work, but good night at home. I always regret drinking after the fact, but in moderate amounts, it feels as if it helps. I can relax and connect easier. We were just out looking at the stars. Things felt good and normal. Planning for Halloween. Being stupid and ridiculous. How things should always be. Yeah. I feel good tonight.
Thursday, October 02, 2014
I've become a downer over the last decade, which is about the same amount of time I've maintained this blog. It seems the more "good" things that happen in my life, the more shitty my personality becomes. I can't pretend to understand why. And I'm sorry. My mind is a poisonous place as of late, no matter what happens, I'm an insufferable asshole, incapable of chilling out and enjoying anything. I drink too much. I'm lazy and boring and stupidly predictable. I either irritate, offend, or just push away anyone I've ever loved. Trust me, though. I'm trying to figure it out. I'm human. Hopefully I'll outgrow this phase of being horrible to everyone around me.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Scrolling through my Facebook feed, my eyes tend to roll back into my head every few minutes each time I pass certain family members' ignorant posts meant to make the nonreligious of us feel ashamed. They all know I'm an atheist. The last one was a "shame on you," type jab to those who don't agree that god is good. I don't understand people. Why emerse yourselves in an oppressive fairy tale? And why make me out to be evil for simply using my fucking brain and stating the obvious? How can my otherwise sane and loving family members have this COMPLETELY FUCKING MENTAL side to them? I need a drink.
Yes. I realize this would be a very boring film.
It would need a great soundtrack.
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
I also saw numbers as young or old. For example, 1 was a mischevious baby boy, 2 was a tidy British schoolboy of about 8 years old. Each consecutive number was a little older, with 9 being a woman of a motherly age, maybe in her 40's. 9's personality was similar to Morticia Addams. I'm not even going to go into the personalities of the letters, but they all have them. Every last one. All unique.
I only now, this very morning, decided to google this phenomenon to see if this was a thing that other people did. And voila! It appears that I have ordinal linguistic personification, which is a form of synesthesia. This is actually a thing. I have this thing in common with other humans. I don't feel completely unbalanced now. This is a perfectly ordinary and accepted form of crazy.
BOOM! I can go back to bed now.
My family members always seem to die on holidays. My PawPaw died on Independence Day when I was 16. My aunt died on Christmas Eve. Nanny died on Columbus Day. I get nervous when a holiday approaches. I think if I had to pick a holiday to die on, it would be April Fools. Anyway, today is a holiday. Labor Day.
I bring this up because...
My grandpa died this morning. I hadn't been terribly close to him, my dad's side of the family have never lived close enough to me to establish a strong bond. I'm not devastated, as he was 91 and I had known that his health was failing fast. The whole family seemed prepared for it. I haven't cried yet, so of course that makes me feel like a monster. I cry for no reason on the drive home from Walmart, for fuck's sake, why can't I cry in a relevant situation?
I know this will definitely fall under the category of TOO SOON, and would also not have been found humorous by my late grandpa, but...yeah, I think it's pretty damn funny. So. My grandparents had given my parents a hinged double photo frame years ago. On one side is a photo of my grandma, on the other side is my grandpa's picture. It's the sort of frame that has a voice recorder built in so that you can record and save a message. There is a button on each side, and a message for my parents from each of my grandparents. I honesty can't remember what grandma recorded, but when you press the button under grandpa's photo, his voice says, "If I could get out of here, I'd join you for a cup of coffee!" Would that not be PERFECT on his tombstone? Yeah? Huh?
I figure, if I can't cry, I'll try and laugh instead.
It is now 4 in the A M. Charlie's alarm will go off in about 15 minutes for him to get up for work, and I will be sneaking into bed, trying to play off that I had been there the whole time. But, yeah, he never buys that. Damn you, brain. Damn you, internets. Good night.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
I'm totally wasting valuable time sitting around in bed, propped up on my elbows, Facebooking until my pinkies go numb. It's after noon. Kids are in school. Charlie's at work. I got the kids on the bus this morning, ate a donut and went back to bed. I'm a lazy turd.
I start classes Monday. I took a huge break from school, but now it's time to pick back up with it. Or else my family will assume I've given up (not that I haven't thought about doing that), in which case they will pester the fuck out of me.
I really have nothing more to say.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Friday, August 15, 2014
I feel stupid and fragile. I'd like to just not give a fuck. I'd like to sleep soundly and wake up normal. I want the dreams back that used to play out happy fantasies.
On another note, I found out this evening that my grandpa is dying. Probably quite soon. I haven't seen him in something like 12 years. It makes me feel shitty.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Sunday, August 10, 2014
In those days, for reasons I have long since forgotten, I wanted to be called Robin, although I was instead dubbed "Roy," which has stuck with me to this day. We were all young and ready to reinvent ourselves, and then the next week we would re-reinvent ourselves. Because we still could.
We were waiting for one of our mothers (not mine) to come pick us all up and cart us to one of our houses (also not mine) where we would babble to each other and listen to records. None of us drove yet, as were all Freshmen in high school. Sitting on that curb, smoking, waiting for my favorite people in the world to join me, after sifting through vintage toys, books, and records and deciding not be buy anything (because I probably had no money)...I felt perfect. It was one of those rare moments in my life where I felt no worry, just love and contentment. All was right. I was with the few people in the world who understood me.
Sunday, July 06, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Saturday, June 21, 2014
I overreact whenever my body does something unexpected. The older I get, the more surprise aches and pains I get. I google symptoms and find the worst possible scenario, then I start picturing my funeral. Never once do I entertain the idea of seeing a doctor. I'm hopeless.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Friday, May 23, 2014
Pffft. I actually made that noise. With my mouth. So yeah, that was sincere.
This is the second or third time now I've slept through thrash morning. I heard the truck coming as I was waking up, groaned and fell back into bed (notices the amazing typo I just made and leaves it -- but I would totally wake the fuck up for THRASH MORNING). *ahem* Trash morning. I find myself ridiculously amusing sometimes. Anyhow, now I feel guilty. The garbage is piling up by the side of the house. I said I'd do it. But instead, I had blissful dreams about Christmas and doorways. Was re-entering the dream after the kids left for school worth missing the trash truck? Yeah, I'd say so.
I'm in an okay mood, aside from the garbage mishap. I hopped up on the scale upon waking to find I have now officially lost *drum roll please* 35 lbs. I like this. I have more to lose, but damn, that's a nice number. So how am I celebrating? By...not...exercising. That's probably a bad idea, but I slept late and I work soon, so I am going to spend the afternoon drinking coffee and daydreaming.
I miss a lot of things this morning (well, this afternoon...I slept through "morning"). I miss the way my brain would conjure great things and fixate intently on them. Unfortunately, this would also trigger the bad feelings, so it's odd to miss that. But today I am feeling good. Not particularly deep, but peaceful. Why can't I have the deep emotions and the peaceful feelings at the same time? I think whenever I let myself feel something too deeply, it hurts a little. And sometimes I want it to hurt a little. But right now, I'm okay just whistling and enjoying my coffee, so fuggit.
And Boom. Just because.
Thursday, May 08, 2014
Those who haven't experienced it sometimes want to listen. Mostly not. Most pretend to be interested, ask if I'm really okay or what's bothering me, but then get uncomfortable and tune out when I start to describe my Blah. And when they do listen, they sometimes want to "fix" me. Get more exercise. Read a book. Go out in nature. Spend time with your family. Just get out of the house more. *sigh* I know they mean well, and those are all great things to do. But none of that will cure me. I'm not a sulking teenager. I don't just snap out of it. When I am down and go for a walk, I am still down when I come home. The chirping birds mock me.
Then there are those who have experienced depression and anxiety to varying degrees, from seasonal to chronic to debilitating. I feel for them all, yet again, I don't share my feelings with a lot of them. There are those who seem to want to turn it into a Who's More Depressed contest. I'm not trying to win anything, I just thought, I don't know, maybe a little empathy? I'm not looking for pity, goddammit, and I'm certainly not about to give any out. People want to be listened to and understood, not outdone.
This. This is why I just write it here. Hardly anyone comments. Just reads, or clicks away. But if someone reads this horribly depressing blog and relates...*hug*
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Oh, I give up. Fuck. I have no words. Not really. I'll try to describe this but I don't know why I'm bothering. Maybe I'm keeping track of my thoughts so I can tell the doctor. But the doctor won't want to hear all this, they'll just ask me questions and give me a fucking prescription. I'll just write this for me, then.
I feel an almost-nothing. I don't like to feel emotionless, but a full-on nothing would be better than what I've got now. It's a numb lined with frustration tinged with sadness and pent up rage. And a hopelessness. I'm a dumb pathetic creature sometimes and I hate it. I want to rip things apart. I want to sleep. I want to get in my car and drive. Throw away my cell phone and computer. Cut off contact with the world. Live in a cave. I'm not doing any of those things, though. Instead, I'm curled up in bed feeling miserable and blogging from my phone. The end.
Monday, January 06, 2014
Like I said yesterday, I woke up with a feeling of dread. It never went away. I carried it with me all day yesterday, waiting for the worst. I took it to bed with me and let it invade my dreams (I had a very hazy dream about working for a hotel/bookstore and my employer hating all my ideas, and a girl asked me to come to WA with her for New Years). I felt this tense waiting when I woke up and got the kids off to school. Went back to bed and the wind made it sound as if the house is about to cave in, which is fitting, as it feels like the world is about to cave in.
So tired. I feel like I'm on another planet. There's a slight shift in everything, enough that the world seems foreign now. Things are not quite right. Everything is awkward and strange and wrong. It's like I'm Sam from Quantum Leap. I've jumped into this body, into this life and I'm only pretending to know what I'm doing or why I'm here. Hoping next time...will be the leap home. Pshhhh, whatever that means, I just really like Quantum Leap. ;)
I felt so great yesterday, but I stupidly drank a pot and a half of coffee in the afternoon and evening. So subsequently, I barely slept. I had a dread feeling before going to sleep and then the same after waking up. No dreams. None that I can remember. Damn. Hoping for some good ones tonight. I'm watching Delicatessen, and it's shaping up to be a very strange and (hopefully) wild dream-inducing movie.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
I'm so excited about this idea, I don't care how silly it sounds. I have a strange preoccupation with dreams. I don't care if they're the feel-good sort or nightmares (I have and recall plenty of both, normally a few per night), I love them all. It seems like the more vivid my dreams are, the better and more creative I feel the day(s) after. It's like it all comes in waves or cycles. But anyways, I've always had that wish that I could record my dreams and replay them for myself and other people after I wake up. The closest way to do this (that is reasonably within my power to do) is to write it out, either in story form or poetry or both, and illustrate it with the same emotion from my dreams. I know I can do this.
Wow, I have more energy than I can believe today. I get these days where I wake up and I just feel super creative and happy, like I can do anything. I look back over my old posts and can't understand how I ever felt so down. I know it's going to happen again, but I'm going to take advantage of this good day and write as much non-whiny bullshit as possible. :)