Meditation Technique

"Shoving a butt plug in the asshole of your mind."

Sorry... watching Midnight Gospel and couldn't get that phrase out of my head until I wrote it down. Next time I attempt to meditate, this will be the visual. 

List: Reasons why Jenny is losing her damn mind

• I stopped drinking (more or less). I've had exactly one beer in the span of seven weeks. I had basically been drinking to self medicate my depression, so now I'm just stuck... dealing with it. Unfortunately, so is everyone around me. 
• I just ended a 15 year relationship, which has basically been most of my adult life. It's the right decision, but it's hard thinking about the aftereffects and what the future's going to be like. We're also still going to be living together for quite awhile until we get everything sorted out, so...yeah.
• I might be going through early perimenopause. I dunno, I've been having pretty big mood swings and what might be small hot flashes, and it's around the age mom started going through it.
• I'm at long last trying to finalize a divorce that should've happened 18 years ago and realizing how much of a mess I am at an age when I should have my shit together.
• There are adorable hyperactive kittens getting into everything in my house. 
• (there are more reasons, but I think I've unpacked enough for now, thank you) 

big feelings

I know by my peace that I've made the right decision. I'm ending a 15 year long relationship and that's so fucking scary. Especially because it's with someone I still deeply care about and always will. But I also know that the feelings I've held and kept secret were slowly eating away at me and would have destroyed everything around me, anyway. I don't feel like an imposter anymore. I feel like I can slowly find myself again.

From here on out, I'm going to try harder to make my feelings clear to the people I care about. I've gotten very skilled at guarding myself and speaking in cryptic ways. I need to face it, I can't expect everyone to know my heart's language. I always thought... if they cared, they'd learn. But that's not being fair. Also, I realize that's a very unhealthy way to go through life, alienating and testing people. I have to accept that, at times, I'm going to hurt people with the truth and I will also be hurt, that's just part of being human. I don't need to live on the defensive.

Anyways, I saw this picture on FB from a movie I've yet to watch, and it made me feel alright this morning. Hence this post. 

*side note: I just watched this movie, Coco, this quote is nowhere in it. FB is full of lies lol

I got this

It's morning. I'm starting to like the morning. My head finally feels clear in what feels like forever. I can see what I had been feeling in a different light. 

It was just loneliness and insecurity. That's it. Just two silly fucking emotions amplified from isolating myself. Those feelings build exponentially when I leave them unchecked until I feel crushed under them. I stupidly start assuming other people's thoughts instead of just talking. I don't look at my own thought processes for what they are, but instead see it as my failure as a human being. As if it's me, I'm the problem. I'm not enough, or I'm too (fill in the blank). I am my own worst enemy and biggest critic. 

But, nah... fuck that. I am enough. I am a fucking badass. I think it took being actively judged by someone else (and she can piss right the fuck off) to finally stand up and defend myself. I am a grown ass woman, I live my life however the fuck I want, and no, I don't have it all figured out yet, but no one really does.

Nah. I got this. 

Feelings suck. Also, no feelings suck.

I've gotta get out of the loop I'm stuck in. I can't think, I can't speak, I can't feel. I'm deadened by the thought of the unknown. I'm mind reading instead of communicating. I'm folding inward. I feel I can't improve upon the silence. Whatever spark I had is smoldering. It hasn't gone out, but I'm just so tired and confused. I'm not propping myself up with alcohol like I've done for so long, so I'm just... floundering. 

I don't know how to do this. 

resolutions. plural.

Lots of resolutions...I'm feeling ambitious. Hold my beer, I got this.

1. Be patient, kind, and understanding... even with those who I don't think deserve it. It's not my place to judge. Everyone needs more kindness and less snark. I want to be the sort of person that I would look up to. Above all the pettiness.

2. Put down my phone and read more books -- ones I already own. I've got way too many unread books on my shelves.

3. Paint more and experiment with different styles.

4. Listen to new music -- a new album (as in one I've never heard all the way through) every few days.

5. Be kind to myself. This includes eating healthier, drinking less alcohol, getting more exercise, and taking mental health days (from work and/or everything) when I need them. It also includes dragging myself to the doctor when I need to.

Time is a missed bus

No matter what good happens, there's always moments where I wake up and just feel buried under every single thing. I look at everything I've done wrong, or the things I shoud be doing or should have done. My stomach is tied in knots. It's raining and gray and I feel like this gross lazy thing that adds nothing to anything. Like I'm wasting my life and everyone else's time.

I know time is an illusion. But it's a very convincing illusion. It takes everyone with it when it speeds on past me. It feels like the rest of the world is on a bus that I just missed and am too tired to catch up with.

Excitement

Making a list of things that I find exciting and worth it, for the times that I find nothing exciting or worth it.

A Jenny Jump Start, if you will.

1. Discovering new (or, new to me) music by artists I've never heard of, in a different genre than what I've recently been listening to
2. Reading relatable poetry
3. Furious kitchen dancing
4. Painting something lovely
5. Lighting incense and sitting around listening to records during a thunderstorm
6. Walking through trees (meaning a bunch of trees... not, like... THROUGH A TREE)
7. Playing piano with headphones on and imagining a rapt audience
8. Ghost stories in the dark
9. Writing haikus about fun things
10. Backfloating in the sun
11. Writing lists about things that make me happy

Stopping here for now, until I think of more.

Peace & Love

Still doing this

I'm alive.

I don't feel like it sometimes, but I'm here.

Something feels off. Something's missing. I don't know. I feel a little lost. Daydreamy and surreal. Isolated. Even around people. It's like I'm not connecting. I'm in a parallel dimension where I can still see people. Speak. Hear. But I'm not really there. They're not really there. Everything's empty.

I spent a half hour outside talking to my cat tonight.

I'm losing my fucking mind.

Ready set GODDAMMIT

Let's start by listing everything I'm angry about.

1. Dishes not done.
2. Trash overflowing.
3. No one else in the house caring about the first two items on this list.
4. Pants. They're never fucking comfortable.
5. My phone has amnesia and has recently started autocorrecting all my texts to bizarre shit.
6. STINK FUCKING BUGS I HATE THEM.
7. I'm angry and I don't want to be angry and that makes me ANGRY!
8. I'm too tired to do anything cool but I don't want to be in this bed.
9. Elderly people in large groups. Ugh.
10. Having to wait for someone to get off their billionth goddamn personal call at work to talk to them. You are at work. Act like it. Also, I'm telling on you. Fuck that shit.
11. Know it all holier than thou types. I will eat whatever seafood I fucking want. And like it.
12. The word "thou."

Okay, I think that helped. I've gone off my antidepressants and I'm experiencing random anger again. But it's stuff that should be bitched about. So there.

Also realized that my meds were effecting my sleep quality. Maybe just thyroid supplements for awhile. Trying to not be a zombie. I'm bored with my medicated state of mind. I need my mind back. My brain fog had gotten terrible. I couldn't remember simple words. And how much have I even written over the past year? Yeah, fucking nothing. Okay, I think I'm no longer too angry to sleep so...

Uhh...my throat is making a weird popcorn sound. Popopop pop pop. What in the world. Huh.

Letting the empty void know, I'm still alive.

Okay, so I don't, in fact, have cancer. That I know of ( the hypochondriac in me will always think I have some undetected form of cancer). But after much testing and racking up much doctor bills, it amounts to "cat scratch disease" and is now done with. I also found out I have an under active thyroid, Hashimoto's Disease, which explains my depression and weight gain and a million other symptoms. But I can't afford the doctor visits and medications for it (no more insurance), so knowing about it is about it. I'm on OTC thyroid supplements, that's better than nothing I guess. The good thing that came out of all of this: I went back on antidepressants. Which is my explanation for the gap in depressing blog posts this year. I've gone from hell to being mildly content, with a tinge of maybe not very content sometimes. Basically, all of my emotions are dulled down to the point where I can live with them. Which does nothing for my creativity, but whatever.

I just had a horrifying dream this morning after the kids left for school. I dreamed that my brother came very close to shooting me in the face and killing me. I haven't spoken to my brother for months. We had a falling out over his stupid backwards worldview (pro Trump, anti-gay/trans/nonreligious/basically everyone interesting). But...the fuck was up with that dream? It's upset my afternoon. It's a beautiful sunny day and I just want to pull all the curtains and drink until I'm unconscious. Stupid dream.

I'm going to try to force myself to write. Hopefully inspiration is not only tied to depression for me. I want to write shitty haiku about nature. Or whatever. This is going to be awesome. More to come. From MILDLY CONTENT JENNY. BOOM.

Lump

I can't feel much at the moment. I have a lump in my neck, which OF COURSE I've googled and Web MD'ed to death, so I'm sure I'm dying. I have a doctor appointment in two days, and I know that's only a start. I won't find out anything about it straight away. There will be labs, tests, whatever. In the meantime, I'm as much of a wreck as someone who is mostly numb to emotions can be. Wondering if I should plug on like normal, or whip out my bucket list. Which I haven't really even made yet. What do I want from life? I don't even know.

Details, coming soon.

I'm clearly not good at being human

I'm roaming around in a mind fog. My days are all blurring together. I can't think clearly. I'm no fun. I'm just tired of all social interaction. I have the urge to just gather up my stuff and go camping by myself for a week. I'd probably be eaten by something, but at this point that almost sounds nice. Can't come in to work, sorry, I'm being eaten by a motherfucking bear. *sigh* I just can't anymore, but still have to anyway.

Drunk and watching Waking Life

Things are too real. Or unreal. Reality is oppressive. Or nothing is happening. Pain is real, as I slap my face, cheek and cheek until my skin is singing. Awake is pointless movement in space. Dream is worlds in worlds in worlds, too few, far between and forgotten, devoid of routine and full with everything. I am so done with reality.

Hyperamazing

So today is unicorns and fucking rainbows. One day I'm stuck in a gray and blue mental auschwitz, the next I wake up as a happy hot pink tiger cub on a Lisa Fucking Frank notebook. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me.

How am I doing

So I'm not okay. Again. I'm a broken fucking record. Nobody wants to hear that I'm not doing okay. Even when they ask, "You okay?" when I say no, all I get is silence, or an, "...okay..." "No," is never the acceptable reply. I'm supposed to say yes by reflex whether it's true or not, because no one knows how to respond to, "Actually, it feels like all of reality is breaking apart and I've no idea how to cope with it."

I don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what anyone could do to help. I don't even know how to word it so it can be understood. It's not one single thing. It's everything at once. It's everyday everything suddenly bigger and badder and more intimidating. It's dread. It's paralyzing emptiness. I don't know what triggered it. I have no clues or reasons. I'm empty handed. The only thing I can do is write it, roll it up in this bloggy bottle, and toss it out there.

Invisible cook

I'm making the dinner. I'm listening to my music. Last night I was the only person alive. Now I'm invisible. Invisible. But they'll still get their fucking dinner.

Snow. Is. Bullshit.

Shit. A snow storm is coming this weekend. I guess a big one. It better fucking be huge, since I am going to have to stay overnight at work tomorrow. ON MY DAY OFF, just so I am sure to make it to my shift the next day. I stocked up on essentials this morning. Rum, Coke, beer, snacks. I plan to do my homework, drink until I'm stupid, listen to music, mope, and write some shitty poetry. And maybe a good poem, but that is not likely. At all.

I don't know how to be alone in a hotel room. It's always lonely and uncomfortable. Last time this happened, I brought productive things to do, a book, things I don't have time to do at home, or things that require more concentration than I can muster at home. But did I do anything productive? NO. I drank, sat around feeling mopey, drank more, looked at facebook, drank more, wondered how many of the hotel guests were fapping in their rooms at that very moment, drank more, flipped on the TV, found a stupid movie that I did NOT want to watch, watched it, bawled like an idiot because that's the reaction that movie was designed to induce, fell asleep feeling like the only person alive, and then me and my hangover woke up in the morning to the music of slamming doors.

In a shite mood. My Ethics instructor emailed me this evening, concerned that I'm not participating in class. It's an online class, and far as I know, I have not missed any deadlines. So really. Fuck that guy. I'm doing the best I can. The first real assignment is due on Sunday before midnight. This is, hmm, FUCKING THURSDAY. I appreciate his concern, but...no...no, I actually don't.

I'm on a Depeche Mode kick tonight, so I will leave you with this:

New Year, Same Me

I think if I didn't have school or family, I would sleep most of the day, stay perpetually drunk, and do nothing but listen to music and write. I'd finally have the time to write book after book of horrible angst which I keep insisting qualifies as poetry. If I even stayed alive long enough. I had a conversation with my boss the other week about how she thought, minus family and school, I would still find something constructive to do with my time, because I'm just 'that sort of person.' This woman obviously doesn't know me at all. Not that I plan on doing anything to deprive myself of family or school. But I know me. I am, at my core, an alcoholic sloth.

This is the first year I've started in awhile that wasn't tinged with just a smidgen of optimism. I think that's because all my heroes and suddenly dying. Life is letting me know NO ONE IS SAFE. YOU ARE NOT SAFE. I CAN TAKE AWAY EVERYONE YOU LOVE, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF. Bowie, though. That was like a punch in the gut. Really, though, it was just him and Alan Rickman dying within days of each other. They were the top two in my list of Older Men I'm in Love With. I'm afraid to list the others for fear of jinxing them.

Also new: I got an Amazon Echo recently. So now my house is always either full of badass music or my family screaming "ALEXA STOP" over and over.

Saint Jareth

Sick Sad World

I am sick and it is fucking with my thoughts. I've got a chest cold (is that the same thing as bronchitis? I dunno, I never go to the doctor anymore), I'm losing my voice, and I have a weird itchy and painful rash that started on my arm, and was told by several people that it looked like shingles, it was acting just like shingles, but is now on both arms, hands, and is creeping up my goddamn neck and I am convinced my body has just decided to slowly self-destruct. I am at work, giving less of a shit than normal. Pretty much zero shit. If I were to stay home, I would still have to deal with being alive, but without the perk of being paid for it, so I decided not to call in sick. I'm hoping that I'm contagious.

Guess what? I'm going to bitch about everything, so if you don't want to hear it, quit reading and fuck off. It's that Everything Is Shit time of year. Out come all of the Christmas decorations and my full-blown depression. Traffic, greed, shitty weather, packed stores, religious nonsense, annoying commercials, bad movies, and Elf on the Goddamn Shelf. Somewhere deep down, I do like Christmas...in my own way. I just don't feel like digging that deep at the moment. Fuck It.