What more is there to report but the same shit?

I have been ignoring almost everyone in the last few weeks, and that's because I don't want to go through the endless social politeness bullshit that's required every time one has a conversation. I am sick of lying to people when I say I'm "fine". I could care less whether they have a good day or not - what does their good day do for me? Uh, I do believe nothing?

I have been yet again blocked from going back to therapy. My shit health insurance won't let me go back to Sheppard Pratt, nor will they allow me to go to any of the therapists I DID find. I have to go through some kind of in-house network, which means hours on the phone, and I don't have the time nor the energy to jump through their hoops to get well - not that anything I've done has helped in the first place. So I'm back to square fucking one again. Sick, depressed, and no one who gives a fuck.

I don't even WANT to deal with anyone anymore. I'm sick of being let down. My house will be just fine for me to hide away in, I'm happy enough there. Just hide and never come the fuck out except to go to work. I am just done with trying to get help or talk to anyone or deal with anything, it's not worth the fucking aggravation.

At last, a bit of respite. But only a bit.

The pressure has been lifted a little now that I've turned in my crim exam - and let me tell you what, I think that's probably the hardest I've ever worked on an assignment since I went back to school last year. It had better get a passing grade, by Christ, or you will see one upset little bitch over here.

Powerpoint is a great program, but it takes forever to build ONE presentation. Who knew that it would cost me six days' worth of time? Sheeeee-zus.

Anyway, while other things are still bubbling away in the misery pot, things have eased up enough so that I can breathe some. I slept like the dead last night, the first time in ages. I guess that's because I was finally able to relax just enough so that I didn't toss and turn on the sofa all night long. How I miss sleeping on a real bed! I know, patience... patience... meh.

They recruited someone from one of the other units to stand in as the lead technician at work. The poor bastard. I give him three months, although he might be up for it, he's a little tougher emotionally than the last two we've had. Time will tell. He'll work with me on my transportation issues, because he also catches the same commuter trains that I do - this is a plus. Time will tell.

In a general conversation with Eye Candy, I found out that he's blissfully occupied with his girlfriend - in fact, moved here to be with her. So much for that, heh, but in a way it's a very good thing, as now I have no reason to be interested in him as anything more than a coworker. The second he said "girlfriend", I was like, "orly?" and all prurient thoughts that I might once have had shut down - instantly. Again, I'm thinking that it's likely for the best.

I'm not emotionally ready to get involved with anyone, anyhow. I'm learning how to.. well, be single, I suppose. Probably what I need.

Bleh. My quiet time is over, as someone just walked in the door. I don't mind working the early shift sometimes, as I get here earlier than everyone else and it's a rare change that this place is ever silent. The lights are off but for one, and it happens to be right over my desk, so I enjoy being alone here sometimes with just my thoughts, the darkness and the silence to keep me company. Unfortunately, when someone comes in, it's all dispensed with.

I wish that people would sometimes appreciate the beauty of silence and darkness. It's not as negative as one might think.

That's enough rambling for now, I suppose.

Sick of the bullshit...

Frustration everywhere I look. It's as if there's a conspiracy to fuck with me as much as the universe is able.

I've been awake for a grand total of an hour. In that mere sixty minutes -

* I've lost my Internet connection. Seeing that I have a crim midterm exam worth 30 percent of my grade that's due tonight, and the only way I can turn it in is through the Internet...

* I lost the exam ITSELF. I wanted to Email it to myself but I couldn't find anything but the outline. Six days of work GONE.

* My train to work is half an hour late, completely rendering my effort to get up early and finish this exam futile, as now I won't get to work early enough to do anything with it.

* Some woman on the train decided to strike up an attitude with me because, God help us all, I was trying to get on the train and I was in her Highness's way. So I did something that I have never done in my life - I got nasty right back. "I SAID excuse me, you fucking bitch."

Yes, I DID go there. And it felt good, too.

Now, I've fixed the Internet, and found the exam, so that's all right. The train I can't do a thing about, so I just need to rework things so that I'll finish it by tonight. And I will, of course. But I just didn't need all of this today, especially not on a Tuesday when my nerves are going to be utterly stretched thin as it is.

Please, Christalmighty, don't let this be what the day is going to be like....


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

And just like that....a complete 180.

I am seriously beginning to wonder if my mental problems aren't more than just simple depression/MDD. As horrible and suicidal as I had felt only a couple of days ago, I feel perfectly fine today, and yes, even semi-good. Something is seriously wrong with me - I know it deep in my gut. But no one can seem to get to the reason WHY, despite my brief tour of one of the finest mental hospitals in America, heh. There has to be some kind of an explanation as to why these ups and downs are so crippling. Perhaps I'm finally taking the advice that has been shoved down my throat the last couple of days and stopped worrying about everything.

My drive for perfection worries me so much. If I don't get an A in my classes or perform my job the way I think I need to, or if my finances aren't in perfect order, I get so damned upset. I never thought of myself as a perfectionist before, but then I've discovered a great deal of unpleasant things about myself in the last few years. Perhaps this is the whole key to why I can't stand myself - it's because I hold myself and everyone else to impossible standards. It's funny, because that doesn't apply to everything. I could care less about how a person looks, for example - perfection in that area doesn't matter one bit to me. But God help someone if I feel like they've been disloyal or have stabbed me in the back. It's nearly impossible to regain my respect if that happens, and these days it doesn't take much to lose it. It's so hard to get in the first place!

I just don't know how to change this about myself - it's such an integral part of my personality.

Maybe I'm just talking through my hat, as usual, and need this upcoming vacation more desperately than I believe. Who knows.

It's Friday, so not much going on. I'm going to just try and relax as much as I possibly can. This has not been an optimal week for me, what with the mood swings, the bullshit going down at work, and the news about the audit. But, shit, things have got to start looking up, I don't know how much longer I can hold on with sleeping on this fucking sofa. I am not getting younger, here.

Let's hope that the weekend won't be as hectic as this past week has been.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

.....

Not really feeling much like writing, but I'm forcing myself to, if only to give myself a rope to hang onto while I'm feeling down. I'm seriously trying to hold on. A lot of things haven't been going right, but that's par for the course, or so it seems.

The 8k tax credit that I'm supposed to be getting? Well, the amended return has now, as of Monday, landed in the IRS's "examination unit" - which basically means audit. Great. I can more or less kiss that money goodbye, because they ALWAYS find something wrong. I haven't been dishonest in the least about my taxes - can't afford to be, I work for the gubmint, for fuck's sake - but they'll find something wrong and they'll take all of the tax credit, or a partial amount. I'll bet you eight thousand dollars, hah hah. (sour sigh)

I'm looking for therapy again. I can't deal with the feelings that I've been having as of late, and the attacks are starting to come again, now at an alarming rate. I could barely keep it together at work today. Not a good sign, just not good. I've found one place that might be able to work with my fucked-up hours, but they're religious in nature and I'm a little (no, make that a LOT) leery of it. Still.. what have I got to lose anymore? If it takes swallowing a bunch of crap rhetoric to make me whole again, I'll swallow it AND like it. I'm sick of this. I am sick of being sick, tired of being tired.

I'm also scheduling an appointment with my primary doctor to get a workup. I also think there's something (no, a lot of things) physically wrong with me. I don't know what else I can go through that's worse than what I already have been. Again - what have I got to lose?

We lost another lead tech today at work. That's the second one in 4 months. They're never going to get anyone to willingly fill that position, it's too much work and too little compensation. The ex-manager I had is now branch chief (a good thing) and we have a new manager, who's nice.. but never there. Basically right now we're lawless, and it's not boding well for any of us. I liked the last lead tech because she whipped these assholes into shape. Not now. She left today, and it was sad to see the smile on her face as she was sailing out the door. They gave her utter fucking hell and I'll be the first one to say it - they treated her like crap. It's no wonder she didn't want to stay. Now? God, it's going to be rough.

No developments on the Eye Candy front. I've actually been going out of my way to avoid him, to be honest, because he sees me at my worst and I don't even want to try to impress him. I don't care what he or anyone else thinks. Fuck 'em all.

Classes going okay, I guess. Like everything else, I've given up caring. I fail these? Fuck it, what's the difference, I owe a shit-ton of money now in school loans, so what difference does it make if I fail? It's another thousand on top of more thousands. It doesn't matter. I'll be fucking fifty years old before I get that degree anyway, the way things are going. What good will it do me then?

Sorry. It's a downbeat post. I don't care. I AM downbeat, depressed, sad, overwhelmingly lonely and damned close to feeling suicidal again. What's the difference? What does anything matter anymore?

I have no one to tell me that it's going to be all right. No one. And even if I did, I don't know that I could ever believe it....

God, help me survive this endless fucking darkness...

A bit contemplative today.

It's Saturday morning, and it's raining here, finally, after a long dreary week of heat and unrelenting sun and horridness. I'm thoroughly enjoying the gray skies and the sight of the raindrops slamming against the pavement. It's been too long since I've seen it!

I've made a snap decision to go ahead and take a vacation - I've decided that I can no longer go on with my present course without going batshit mad. If I have to wait a little longer for the bed and the computer I need (because my old desktop broke down, finally, after nearly 7 years of faithful service) and the cookware and all of the other shit, that's fine. Because I'm burned out. There comes a time where you have to weigh your options. In this case it was keep on the way I'm going, make mistakes, lose my temper more and more often, and eventually risk my job... or spend the money, take the vacation, take time for myself to regroup and relax. Not much of a contest there, I guess.

So I booked a cruise to the Bahamas. Yes, I know, why another cruise, I hated the last one, didn't I? I didn't really hate it - I just didn't want to travel with my mother, and it showed. I'm alone on this one, and I think that I'll probably enjoy myself a lot more, if only because I don't have to worry about doing things and wondering whether or not she has enough energy to go upstairs for a cup of coffee without complaining. I also don't have to suffer her talking to complete strangers about how America's health system is so inferior to Canadian plans - I swear, she did that to me on that cruise we went on, she yapped on to everyone and anyone that would listen about how much we suck as a nation, etc., etc. In other words, she pulled the same bullshit that she's always pulled all of my life, embarrassing me in front of people and making me wish dearly that there was a hole to sink through. Is it any wonder I had such a rotten time? I didn't want to be around her. And that wasn't the extent of her mouth, either - but I don't want to get into that. I'm actually feeling somewhat all right-ish today, if a bit contemplative, so I don't want to upset the peace that I've finally managed to somewhat achieve.

Anyhow, I'm going on September 13th, almost a year to the day that I went on the last one. It's only for 4 days, and I leave from Orlando, so that's a big difference from the last time. I may do a couple of the shore trips, though the ones I went on in Canada weren't really worth the money in my opinion - but again, it was a different circumstance, in that I couldn't do anything strenuous because of my mother. Oh, I know, she said to go without her on stuff, but you know how that is, you feel guilty if you do. That's another reason why this one might be a better circumstance. The shore trips this time involve parasailing - which is a crazy-assed thing to do, especially for me, but I might just give in to temptation. That and frolicking with sea lions. I do love sea lions, they're really cool creatures. :D

Other than that, things are the same. I've made another couple of stabs at trying to get out of here and make friends, but as usual it's going not-so-well. Just the other day I was thinking to myself that I don't get listened to even online, heh. But as I'd mentioned before - this, too, shall pass, and so it has, for now.

I just wish these attacks would stop. But it is what it is, at least I'm not completely falling apart like I once was.

As usual, when I'm contemplative, the words come out like so much verbal vomit. I really wish I could get my head together enough to stick on topic and keep on track, but it never happens. This is truly "freestyle" - I just put it down as it comes into my head. It's a shame that I can't write anymore, because some of this shit would make a great book, if I ever had the inclination to talk about it. But I feel that I've lost all of my writing talent - I couldn't do it now if I tried. I spent too many years hearing people laugh at my efforts, however pathetic they were, and now I just don't believe I can do it any longer. Why do something if all I'll get is criticism and derision?

Of course, I could say that about nearly everything I've ever done, too.

Eh, enough of this downbeat shit. It's weird, but I'm sitting here watching VH-1 Classic (something I often do on Saturday mornings waiting for my cooking shows, because television is a wasteland until noon here), and there's a show on called "Metal Mania" that runs for a few hours. It's basically music videos of glam metal from the time I was in high school, and it's a huge, guilty pleasure of mine because I was so immersed in that culture growing up - it was basically my identity (and we did have a few stoners in the place, heh). I've outgrown it all now, of course, but I still sort of get a little thrill out of seeing Mötley Crüe or Cinderella or similar with their mullets and more makeup than most women prancing around on stage, heh.

Anyway... I have to say that some of these guys really made good. Take Bret Michaels, for example. He had what was (and still is, probably) one of the most-maligned glam metal bands of all time, that being Poison. People laugh at Poison, they really do, Poison is epitomized as being everything wrong with "metal" and rock, etc. And yes, they were most definitely cheesy, they have no defense there. But plenty of others were just as bad - hell, Twisted Sister and Dee Snider in my view were a hell of a lot worse as far as the cheesy factor is concerned. In any case, Bret Michaels has been through a fuck of a lot, healthwise, but he's still trying to work and make a career for himself, 20 years after glam metal has been shoved aside to collect dust in CD shelves around the world. I identify with that work ethic. He never did the drug lifestyle or dissolve into a pool of his own sick like everyone else, and that alone probably marks him as "different". I, being of a different sort myself, can identify. And I can respect him for that, so... as far as I'm concerned, Poison might be cheesy and 'lame', but Bret Michaels is a fuck of a lot better off than most of his detractors.

And, so, a cheesy and lame video for you all to end this Saturday. :p I'll write later if I feel up to it. Cheers.

P.S. I actually find this song incredibly cynical, not to mention beautiful.

Suckage abounds.

This past week has been hell on earth, as I've previously stated. One of the main reasons as to why is because I've been forced to work in the lab without air conditioning during what has easily been, so far, the hottest week of the year. I have been fighting a screaming headache, heat stress, nausea and Christ knows what else since Tuesday, all in the name of testing drug-using idiots. If I was burned out before (and I was), now I'm just hanging by a thread as far as this job is concerned. I desperately need a vacation, but I'm not going to get one - not because I don't have the time to spare, but because I have no money. I am STILL waiting for this fucking 8 grand from the gubmint, not that it looks as if that's coming anytime soon. To be honest, I'm starting to get scared. I bought that house partially because I knew I would get some money back for it, and to not have it right now is really beginning to hurt me financially - or to at least put a squeeze on my comfort level. I can't even get anything I need right now, never mind want. I'm sleeping on my living room sofa right now because I have no bed - the mattress on the floor shit doesn't work anymore for me, I'm too fucking old and my back hurts too much to keep doing that. I'm totally stuck in limbo without that money. I can't do anything but try to keep my stupid head above water. (And I'm sure the frustration in my words can be well heard at this point. I just don't know what, if anything, can be done about it.)

Social life still in the toilet. Mad at the very few friends I have left, for different reasons. I'm well on my way to complete isolation, not that I honestly care anymore. No one ever really calls to check on me, or invite me to things that I might actually enjoy. Apparently I am now persona non-grata to people that were once my friends - so be it. Maybe this is a sign that I need to start over fresh in my life, with a new perspective, identity, goals. I don't know.

Right now there is a lot of frustration coming from nearly every aspect of my life - personal, financial, professional. I don't know what to do about it, and I've never been one to handle frustration very well, I admit to that. I am just...tired of fighting, I suppose. Seems that I've always had to fight for everything I've ever wanted, from material things to keeping people in my life. I am tired of struggling just to say sane and tired of crying and feeling half-crazy. I am tired of being alone. I am tired of FEELING alone.

The only aspect of my life right now that isn't suffering is my "career", if you could call what I do that, anyway. These drug-addled freaks down here love seeing me, for some reason. Perhaps I need to remember that I'm lucky, compared to their lives.

Or perhaps I just need to keep in mind that these feelings, like everything else, will pass. I need to try and remember that, some days.

I don't really know what the point is (if there even is one) to this post. Just some stuff that's been building up, I guess. I just see frustration and roadblocks all around me and it's hard to keep my head up or think that anything will get better. But it will. Eventually, it will.

Now I just need to talk myself into believing it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The week from hell.

I'm still alive, but it's been an extremely rough week. I'll tell more about it when I have time - as it is, I'm in bed right now and getting ready to more or less pass out. An update will follow soonish, though.

Just letting those of you who give a shit know, that's all.

Songs that make me absolutely sick.

I was watching VH-1 Classic this morning (often something I do when there is absolutely nothing on the tube - it's amazing, I have DirecTV satellite and yet out of 500+ channels there's still zero airing that isn't dreck), and they were having a "Totally 80's" block. (Shut. the. fuck. up. It's my generation, damn it, so kiss my round red ass.) Anyway... they were playing mostly good stuff, but there are some tunes from that era that were disgustingly "feel good, positive, chin up, happy happy" bullshit. Since the 80's were basically not a very happy period of time for me as a rule, those songs tend to make me want to vomit.

Unfortunately, some of them are making a comeback. Why, I could not tell you.

I now present some of the most disgusting tunes ever made - at least in my opinion. The videos are included, though why you would ever watch them, I have no idea. I know I won't be. (Note: they're not all from the 80's, but for some reason that decade was the most nauseating...)

1.) Katrina & The Waves - "Walking On Sunshine"




This is the video that got me thinking about this whole subject. I mean, come on. First of all, those three guys walking behind this bitch look anything but happy to be in this silly, sad video. And it's common knowledge that "the Waves" aren't nearly as important in this act as "Katrina", whom I suppose is pretty enough but quite frankly looks like she's singing about her girlfriend, if you know what I mean. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, but let's face it, those tennis shoes of hers don't make her look real feminine, know what I'm saying?) Second, if you're going to be doing a video about sunshine - pick a sunny day and not a foggy, gray rainmaker. Though the shots of the bridge in London are a nice touch. It does occur to me that it could be a statement of irony, but I honestly don't think that was the intention - they don't look intelligent enough for it.

2.) Bobby McFerrin - "Don't Worry (Be Happy)"



This is the song that is on my all-time shit list. Don't worry? Is this guy fucking nuts? It's obvious this asshole has never suffered with depression or has even heard of it. Plus that guy going "whoo-hoo-hoo" in the bridge makes me want to curl my nails into his throat and rip it out - Jesus, how irritating. This video is actually cut off in the middle of the song - which for me is sweet fucking relief. I think this one actually vaults above Miss Katrina up there for the "most fucking annoying" award. The real kicker about this song is - this douchebag doesn't even give you a reason why you shouldn't worry about things. Just unbridled, unthinking optimism. That's how people get hurt, motherfucker. Sad thing is, this dick laughed all the way to the bank with people's money. I guess he doesn't have to worry about shit, now does he?


3.) Fleetwood Mac - "Don't Stop"



It absolutely breaks my heart to have to put Fleetwood Mac on this list, because I've always liked them so much, especially the tracks "Dreams" and "Rhiannon", which are nothing short of beautiful. But this song is an abomination. The lyrics - ugh. "Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone." Thanks for reminding me, assholes. I already regret that I've lost so much of my life to depression, I really don't need a reminder that I've wasted yet another day because I can't manage to hold my head up without sobbing my heart out. Jerks. My only consolation is that maybe Christine McVie and Lindsey Buckingham were LSD-tripping when they wrote this - I could possibly forgive them.

4.) Lee Ann Womack - "I Hope You Dance"



This bitch just...doesn't... get it. It's obvious that this song is for people that have never had one thing go wrong in their lives - that or fools, because you would be a fucking idiot to be that frigging optimistic. Thanks, but I will sit this out and be glad to do so, because I'm of the real world. What a douche. And so obviously trying to cater to the "girly-girl", the so-called "sisterhood", blah blah. Such a joke. I won't even get into that subject, because that's another rant altogether.

5.) Johnny Nash - "I Can See Clearly Now"



"I can see clearly now, the man's insane!
I can see all the bullshit that's in his way....
Gone is the common sense I thought he had,
He's going to sing a dumb (dim), dense (thick) piece of crap song!"

Heh, no doubt there'll be a part two....

On an antisocial kick recently.

I've blocked/deleted a bunch of people, mainly people I went to high school with, on Facebook. I'm actually considering deleting a lot more that I no longer talk to or want anything to do with. I guess that I'm starting to slowly accept the fact that there's no point in having people that don't talk to me or want anything to do with me knowing anything about my life.

Strangely, I'm okay with all of this. Sure, I feel sad. But... there's been too many bridges burned. I can't go back in time. Maybe it's best that I just cut all ties with the past... that way I can build a future for myself. Whatever that might be.

Maybe I should just start fresh... brand-new.

I'm tired tonight and I'm working on a headache, so I'll close out for now. But, yeah. Although I'm sad and regretful about a lot of things... it's like pulling a bandage off of an old wound. Yes, it's going to hurt - temporarily - but in the end it'll be so much better for me that it's gone.

Onward.

Decision making. On a Wednesday, at that!

Heh, not that this is anything earth-shattering or whatever, but I've decided to try and boost my retirement up a bit by opening an ING Sharebuilder account.  I'm just hoping that I can figure out how to use it - it's all very confusing to me.  What I actually want to do is to start investing, even if it's just a small amount.  Now isn't really the best time, because I'm overloaded with debt (that homebuyer's tax credit still hasn't shown up yet and word out on the street now is that it won't until December - which doesn't exactly leave me in a good position over here).  But I put what was in my bank savings account into a Roth IRA.  I'm just going to build it up as much as I can for now, and once I get all of this debt shit paid off, I'm going to go ahead full-steam with it.  A lot of people have told me that I shouldn't pay off the credit card or whatever, but here's the thing - what else do I have to do with the money?  I'd sock it away in the bank anyhow, so I may as well begin with a clean slate.  The only debt that I want right now is my student loans and my house - otherwise everything gets paid off, and I'm through with it.  Hopefully I'll even be able to accelerate the payments on the house so that I can get rid of that, as well. 

Might seem stupid, but I'm 38 years old.  I need to seriously start thinking about my financial security down the line, because it's obvious that no one is going to "rescue" me.  (Not that I'd want them to.)  My only regret is not beginning earlier - but at 18, 19, 20, who thinks about their mortality?  Who thinks about retirement at that age?  I regret that I wasn't enlightened or mature enough to do so, but I guess that it's not too late to start catching up.  At least, I hope not.

 

 Bleh.  I had originally begun this post over 5 hours ago, but as usual the morons that I have to serve at work get in the way of my finishing it.  Tomorrow is unfortunately going to be that much worse... sigh.

 

Should I be slightly worried that work is a little more fun these days since Eye Candy showed up?  Heh.  No, no, no.  No worries.  Not going to do anything stupid.  Not even thinking about it.  And if I was at all weakened (which I haven't been), I took a refresher EEO course about discrimination and sexual harrassment today, so that ought to remind me NOT to go anywhere near there, heh.  (As I write this, I'm even aware that it's a lame attempt at convincing myself.  But, no, seriously.  I am NOT going there, no amount of attention from this dude is going to make me fuck up this job.  I refuse.  Besides, it's a stupid flight of fancy, who'd even look twice at me anymore - I'm 38, massively apathetic, and, well, massive, heh - the physical fitness campaign as of late has been woefully lacking, sigh.  I'm still trying, but at this point I expect nothing.)

 

I refuse to end this post on a bad note.  I'm actually feeling somewhat okay today, so I'm not going to let anything bring me down.  I plan on doing some more work around the house, my mood and illness permitting, and homework as per usual.  In other words, my normal life, or as much of a life as I can expect these days.

 

Things aren't all that bad.  They're not great... but not bad, either.  Suppose I should be okay with that, huh.

 

Later.

 

 

 

 

The first day of summer, and it can suck my ass.

I start off every summer by saying that I hate summer.  Well, this year isn't going to be any different.  I despise, loathe, detest, abhor, repudiate, spurn, RENOUNCE summer.  The heat and the humidity, the nastiness, the funky smells of drug addicts that refuse to wear deodorant or personal hygiene products.... oh, God, this one's going to be a winner, I can just feel it.  Bleh. 

 

Now that I've made my opinion known, heh...

 

Something tells me that maybe I shouldn't have written that Father's Day letter yesterday.  Although it was cathartic and got out a few emotions concerning my father, in the end I was sort of morose and weepy for the rest of the day.  Consequently I feel tired and rundown today at work.  I'm still glad that I did it, though, as it's allowed me to finally admit to myself that I truly hate my father.  I don't want to say that - after all, it sounds cold-blooded and evil - but it's the truth and I'm not going to deny the truth any longer, no matter how nasty it sounds.  And who knows, maybe it's yet another step that I need to take in the process of healing.

 

Eye Candy has cut his hair into a buzzcut - which drastically reduces his sex appeal.  I'm so disappinted, ugh.  I've always been a long-hair lover, can't help it, there's something about long, silky, flowing locks that gets the motor running.  He's still quite good-looking, don't get me wrong.  Just.... not as much now, meh.  In all honesty, it's probably for the best, as I don't want to get tangled up in such a situation.  This is the first decent job I've ever really been able to get or hang on to, and I'm not messing it (and my future) all up for some man.  It's not worth it - quite frankly they never are, in my view.

 

Listen to me.  I sound so fucking bitter.

 

Anyhow.  That's the news from this end.  Not much going on, as you can see.  I'm on second shift now so I may actually be able to take a little more time to write in this thing for a change, now that I don't have to get up at 4am anymore... heh.

 

Later.

 

 

 

 

An open letter to my father. (Warning: this is ugly. Don't expect sunshine and roses.)

I can't even start this letter with "dear", because you've never been dear to me, or even a presence in my life. I have no memories of you being a part of any of my childhood - none whatsoever. You are a shadowy figure that I saw on weekends because a court in downtown Baltimore ordered that it be so. You never made it a point to freely see me or even acknowledge that I existed. At least, that's how it seemed to me.

In hindsight and in knowing what I know now, I know that you and my mother had the world's acrimonious divorce. Neither of you could agree on anything, not when it came to me or my brother, not on how to raise us, not on the slightest thing. I have a hazy remembrance of seeing my mother crying on the sofa after a phone call from you - I know that much. I remember feeling more and more uneasy every time I had to talk to you - because after all, who were you but a stranger? And I'd always been warned never to talk to strangers. You would fall into that category, yeah?

The few memories that I have of you are tainted by the presence of my stepmother - yeah, you know, Carolyn. The one that didn't like either of us but especially not me, because I look just like Mom, the woman that she wanted to forget exists. The way she'd force us to go to church when neither of us were raised to believe. The food she'd make that we hated but had to eat every single morsel of or we'd not be allowed to get up from our seats. The threadbare clothes from Goodwill that she'd dress us in. And the preferential treatment that she always gave Toby, her own son, over us. Oh, I know the way it was supposed to go. Toby first, because Carolyn insisted so. Then my brother, because after all, he was the golden child that everyone wanted. Me last. I know how it's supposed to be, Dad. No worries, I won't step out of line...

But the one memory that I'll never forget is the day when I had to run across two major highways and through an entire neighborhood to my grandmother's house because you were chasing after me and promising that I'd be smacked because I dared to say no to a visitation with you. There was a REASON, Dad, that you never cared to hear about - would you like to hear it now? I had a Girl Scout trip planned, Dad. A Girl Scout trip that I had personally saved for, for months and months, something that I really worked hard for and wanted to go on. It just happened to fall on the weekend that I was supposed to have visitation with you, and I'm really sorry for the inconvenience and the cramp in your style that it apparently put you in. You said no to it, that I was to come with you and that was that - like I was property, chattel, I had no decision in the matter.

But you see, Dad... I took that decision out of your hands. And that's what you wanted to punish me for - for standing up for what I wanted. That's why you chased me across highways, risking my life, being afraid of the very person that was responsible for my own creation. I had to scream for my grandmother to let me in her house because I knew that if you'd caught me I was going to be smacked, publicly, beaten. I knew that. And I'll never forgive you for that, for putting my grandmother (who herself was not exactly a calm person) through that.

I will never forgive you for a lot of things. For abandoning my family, for treating me like I didn't exist, for treating me like an afterthought when you DID finally notice me. I will never forgive you for allowing that woman to force me to go to church and dressing me in little better than rags (letting everyone stare at me when I did go out was a real ego-booster, let me tell you). For cutting me completely out of your life almost from the beginning. I will never forgive you for sending the smallest amount of child support that was legally allowed. You know what your contribution to my life was, Dad? Twelve dollars and fifty cents a week. By the time I was eighteen, that was my fucking allowance, Dad, because what the fuck can you provide for a child with 12.50 a week? That was my bus fare for three days to go to school. Thanks for helping raise me!

Then came your fucking letters. Those stupid "newsletters" that Carolyn wrote to everyone you all knew, and I just became a name on a mailing list to you. Do you really think I give a fuck now what either of you do? Do I care?

The most insulting thing of all is that you claim you want to talk to me. Then talk TO ME - stop fucking having Carolyn write letters FOR YOU. I don't want them! I want to talk to YOU, not to her, all of my fucking life I've had to go through her to reach you. And now you wonder why I won't have anything more to do with you. What's more, you don't even honor the one simple request I make of you. This past March, when my birthday came, you sent my brother a birthday card to send to me - because you don't have my new address or phone number, and the rest of the family is under strict instruction NOT to give it to you. Haven't you ever wondered why that is, Dad? Any clue?

Don't you recall that I asked you NOT TO CONTACT ME in any way, shape or form? That means NO BIRTHDAY CARDS, DAD. No cards, no letters, no phone calls. I don't ever want to hear from you again. RESPECT THAT. But no, you can't even do that for me.

Face it, Dad. You've lost your daughter, the only daughter you've ever had or will have. You've lost that, because you never cared enough about me to forge any kind of relationship with me, not even a crumb here or there. You've been a piss-poor example of a father in my eyes, and in truth a piss-poor example of a man in general. Men don't treat their children like you have me. I've been raised with no good example of what a man should be like or treat women like, and in so doing I now have a skewed, distorted, unhealthy perception of how a woman should be treated by a man. And trust me when I tell you that it's spilled over into my adult life. I live every day with the complications of your choices.

I know what you'll probably do - you'll probably start your blameshifting and say that Mom had a part in this, too. And she did, you're right. Truth be told, I despise both of you for your actions in raising me - you've both made fatal errors in my eyes. But I don't fault Mom for some of it, because she did the best she fucking could with what she had, which in the end was absolutely nothing, thanks to you. I blame you, Dad, for most of it, and I have no problem in saying that I hate you for it.

I hope, on this Father's Day, that you're sitting over there in Arizona (with or without Carolyn - I don't know or care, you made that bed long ago so lay in it) thinking about the bad choices you've made and the consequences of those choices. I no longer wonder if you think about me or if you regret what you've done, because it no longer matters to me in my daily life. I've made what I've made out of myself without your presence, assistance or help, and I don't need you now. Don't come into my life now, because I needed you then - and you weren't there. So as far as I'm concerned, fuck off.

I'm done with you.

Life as usual.

I haven't written anything for a while because nothing's really been happening, which in my world is a good sign, or at least a sign of "normalcy".  I'm still working, still in my classes, adjusting slowly to life on my own in the house.  Things are okay.  I had a really bad patch mentally for a while, but I think even that's beginning to subside. 

 

So now what?

 

Yes, that's what's on my mind.  Now what happens?  I could go on like this indefinitely, maybe forever.  It sounds terrible, but if I were to just let this all be now, that my life will never improve or get worse than this - I think I'd be pretty much okay with that, and could live with whatever happens.  The only real downside to that is that sometimes I get pretty lonely.  I mean, sure, I would love to go out with people and have fun and all of that - but if it doesn't happen, I guess I'd be okay in my house with my television/computer and Dandy Lion.  There's no trauma associated with that, a good thing. 

 

What scares me is that I've more or less turned into my mother.  That's what she does.  Watches television, putters around the house, that's it.  And that's all I do.  I wanted so much more out of my life than that, but I guess maybe it wasn't meant to be that way. 

 

It doesn't help that I hate most people, though, heh. 

 

I've discovered to my shock and horror that I have ants in my basement.  NOT good, and I'm not at all happy about it.  Found THAT out when I went downstairs to change Dandy's water dish.  There they were, floating away in what was left of the water.  Big black motherfuckers.  I am pissed.  Looks like I'll have to call an exterminator, stat.  But, bleh.  It's a problem I kind of didn't need.

 

Guess it could be worse, though, I could have something worse than ants crawling around in there.  Ugh.

 

New guy down at work, started last week.  He's definitely eye candy.  I don't dare flirt with him 1.  for fear that he won't take me seriously  2.  for fear that he WILL take me seriously and either throw up, which is the reaction I expect, or slap a sexual harrassment suit on me (or both)  3.  simply because I don't shit where I eat as a general rule, heh.  Still.  He's nice to look at, and a girl can dream, can't she?  :p  We were walking down the corridor on the way to lunch and he was like "I survive this job by using apathy."  Hah.  Instant lust.  Like I said... I don't dare do a thing about it, but I can think about it, heh....

 

Heh, it proves that at least my interest in other people isn't TOTALLY dead.  Almost, though.  Almost.

 

Anyway.  I wish that I were more enthusiastic about things, but the truth of the matter is that it's the same old, lame old at casa Ray.  At least I'm not having attacks.  That's something, anyway.

 

Thursday and almost (re)opening time, bleh.  My shift got pounded this morning and we're all fucking exhausted as shit, but there's still 2 hours to go.  I pray I can get through it without killing someone.

 

Cheers.

 

 

This blog is two years old! OMFG.

Man. It's absolutely astounding to me that this blog is even still around. Two years ago today, I actually started this journal over again after I'd deleted everything in a black haze of what I now know was a depressive attack. I'm honestly not real sure of what's kept me from doing it again, to be honest, other than the determination that for once in my life, I would finish something that I'd started.

And so I have - only I'm not nearly finished with this. Not by a long shot.

Two years ago, my life was in utter shambles. I'm not ashamed to admit that. I was caught in the throes of my mental illness. Unemployed. Deep in the abyss of despair. Thinking to myself that suicide was the answer to all of my woes, if only I had the courage to actually do it. Faking what little happiness I could muster, and believing that everything was shit.

So, where am I two years later? While I'm not cured by any stretch of the imagination (and probably will never be, as depression is not curable, exactly), I've made great, almost incredible strides toward healing. I know this, despite all of my talk about how epic my failures are. I have a job - yes, it's not really what I wanted out of life, collecting urine from addled drug users, but it's still a job, and a decent-paying one at that. I am in school, advancing toward a criminal justice degree, however slowly I'm inching toward it. And I now own a house, a place of my own, a place that I will never have to leave if I don't wish to. Sure, my social life is still shit - but double-you tea eff, as they say. I can't achieve everything all at once, and even if my social life is desperately lacking, I can't say that I'm truly unhappy with my achievements. Despite all of my complaining.

I've come a long way in recognizing the situations that are toxic for me, and in knowing when to let go of people, places, things. Still working on the past, I suspect that'll be a lifetime project - but I'm trying to move toward the future. And I know there's a future out there for me somewhere, at least in my positive moments. If I end up all alone, at least I can say that I finally had my own way in determining what my future was/is.

Today I feel pretty strong-minded. Not that I can do just about anything - it's not that kind of positive - but that the direction of where my future lies is in my hands. I guess that's a positive thing, after all.

I often wonder what happened to the woman that used to be so energetic, positive, a people-pleaser, etc. But as I look back tonight on two years of this blog... I marvel at how far I've traveled. Yes, I have a long way to go for sure, but.. I'm a far cry from the sick, sad woman that I was 730 days ago. I'm stronger, more determined, with a better direction. While I may not know exactly what I want right now, I have good ideas developing in my head as to what I need. It's just a matter of getting there. And even if I don't fulfill all of my goals (whether right away or ever)... hey, I tried, and that's better than nothing at all. Either try or die, and I'm not ready to die, despite all of my talk of suicide.

It's time to grab the proverbial bull by the... well, you know the rest of the saying.

Onward to year three. I'm incredibly proud of myself today. And I just know you are, too. :p

I am okay today.

I know that a lot of people may not actually believe that, especially after the week I seem to have had -but it's true. I am actually feeling all right. Mainly because I seem to have come to some sort of conclusion inside my own mind, though what it is I couldn't say.

I think that, by giving up completely on a social life and no longer expecting it to come from outside sources, I am now looking within. And maybe I should do just that. The truth is that I am tired. I am weary of seeking approval through external validation, if that makes sense. I am weary of trying to find acceptance in a world that never really has accepted me or my peculiarities. So...in a way, I'm actually more at peace now with the fact that I'm on my own and can really depend on no one at all but myself. I'm scared of that, but at the same time, liberated. Does that make sense?

Several people have let me down in the last week. But the truth is that I expect no differently - so maybe it's time to stop beating myself up over it.

I will still have difficult moments, as we all do, but I'm slowly beginning to learn to live with them. I think.

But no worries. I am truly all right with myself today. I am at peace, and that is so rare a feeling for me. I want more of it.

I am going to be okay.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The weekend of hell....ish thoughts.

After what can only be described as a horrific Friday and Saturday, I have finally calmed down a little bit - but the resulting destruction now spreads far and wide. When I get angry, by God, I do it right.

In short, I've probably lost another friend (not that I'm all that impressed with said friend right now anyway - maybe when my temper cools off I'll be sorry later, but right now, fuck them), and I've probably revealed a little too much of myself to another one. Neither of which I'm pleased about, but at this point, fuck it. I have nothing left to lose.

The truth is that I have too much to do, with school and work and all of that, but again I got the old "I'm too busy" excuse. Like I stated earlier, maybe I should just make myself unavailable, too - perhaps that'll get people thinking a little differently.

I'm still steaming mad over what happened. And this was a relatively unimportant thing, under the circumstances - so maybe it's just best that I turn my back on this situation and move on. It's not as if I invested too much of myself in it, anyway, and considering all that's gone on, it's just as well that I didn't.

The other situation, well, that'll all come to a head by this time tomorrow afternoon. I'll know for sure that I made a mistake by then, never mind "if" I did - I know I did. First rule of life when you're in a position like mine is never, never, ever reveal your true feelings to anyone, and I broke that rule last night, not only broke it but demolished it. Bad, bad idea. However, I am quite prepared to pay the price that I know is coming. It won't be so bad - just the loss of yet another person in my life, that's all.

Not that it matters, as they haven't been around when I needed them, either. No great loss.

I am bitter today. I know it. It doesn't really matter any longer. I'm not prepared to try again to disrupt what's been so far a lonely, dyspeptic, but hurt-free life. At least the only hurt that I experience is that which I cause to myself.

For once in my life I'm looking forward to going back to work. Maybe I'll start requesting overtime Saturdays - at least I'll make money instead of facing demons I don't want to, or need to face.

No faith.

There is nothing that feels worse than striking up a conversation with people that you think you're going to get along with, only to be brushed off, blown off, ignored, be told that you don't exist in their world later on.

Is it any fucking wonder I just stay away from humanity?

I don't even think I'm going to try anymore.

More bridges burned.

I discovered tonight, thanks to a nifty little online tool, that a bunch of people have deleted me from MSN.

No great loss. These are people that I either haven't spoken to in years or don't WANT anything to do with.

The cycle of isolation is beginning to wax once again. I find that I don't care.

Whatever.

Out of work sick - AGAIN!

Y'know... this is just getting fucking old, here. This is the second time in 2 months that I've had to take an extended time period off of work because one of these unhygienic, inconsiderate motherfuckers I "service" gave me their cold germs or their diseases or whatever. I'm sick of this - quite literally. If my supervisors would just let me wear a face mask like I wanted to, I wouldn't be constantly in and out of work like this. But, hey - it's on them. If they'd just follow my gentle suggestions, I'd not be home lying on my couch hacking away. Their loss, I guess. But it's costing me not only time from work, but money as well. I had to spend almost a hundred dollars today to get home (because the commuter train doesn't run during off-peak hours), the doctor visit, the medicines, etc. It's annoying. Really, really, really annoying.

The upside of it is that the two new female trainees we've got down there allowed me to go the hell home and take care of this shit.

So I'm stuck now on my sofa until Friday. Bully for me.

It's just as well, really, as I've been achy, tired and with a lot of shit floating around in this empty space I call my mind. I've been doing my best to reach out and make more social connections lately, with some limited success. Time will tell, but I have a feeling that things are about to change on that front.

No more, lest I jinx myself. All will be revealed in time.

Bleh, what can I do on this sofa for the next two days. (irritated muttering)

An update to the blog. Unfortunate, but necessary.

I was going through my blog this evening, cleaning up fragments of drafts and whatnot, when I noticed that there were 26 comments on one very old post, and 74 on another. We're talking about posts from as old as July of last year. I knew then that the comment spammers had hit once again.

I had set this blog to not allow unmoderated comments past 2 weeks. But unfortunately, the spammers are clever and have somehow got around this limit, so... unfortunately, I will now have to set all comments as being moderated and I will have to approve them before they are posted. It irritates me to have to do this. I'm not anyone's mother to be approving what people say beforehand.

But, unfortunately, I also do not have time to be cleaning up after these motherfuckers. It took me an hour just to clean up the 74 comment post. These idiots are truly, indeed, idiotic - I don't have 74 fucking friends that would leave comments on this thing. I'm lucky if I have 5 people reading this, heh! In any case, such as it is, I need to turn the comment moderation on, and I'm truly a.) irritated by the fact that I have to do so and b.) sorry for the inconvenience.

Please don't let this discourage you all from posting comments, should you have any. I read this blog every day and check up on it, so your comments will go through fairly fast AND uncensored - no worries on that score.

I am, however, making a suggestion to Blogger tonight that they allow the ability to delete unwanted comments en masse. It is ridiculous that it took me 60 minutes to clean up ONE post. Thank Christ that it wasn't worse.

Why these oozing assholes think people want their crappy Cialis and Accutane through the mail is beyond my comprehension or understanding, heh.

Cheers.

Wow. What a shock. Not.

You Are 37% American

America: You don't love it or want to leave it. But you wouldn't mind giving it an extreme makeover. On Memorial Day, you'll fly a freak flag instead... and give Uncle Sam a sucker punch!

How American Are You?

Oh, well. Happy Memorial Day anyway.

Finally time to relax a bit.

I'm suffering from a rather nasty head cold, but otherwise I'm taking it as easy as I can. Things are starting to settle down, and although it's still not anywhere close to perfect, it's at least going in the direction I'm wanting, so that's something to be proud of. Classes start on Tuesday (though they've already got the first lesson up online, so I guess you could say that they've started), and for the most part I'm ready, though this Spanish course continues to worry me. I'm hoping that I can pull off a small miracle, heh.

Life is as normal. Things are starting to settle into a routine, though I won't be anywhere near comfortable for a few months yet. It's going well, however.

Tomorrow is Memorial Day and I have zero plans but for trying out my new appliances, setting my computer up in the office, and relaxing. God knows I don't get much of a chance to do that.

Maybe one of these days I'll report something exciting. :p

Transitions and ramblings. Echoes from a cracked brain...

For those of you that still bother to read this silly blog, it must seem to you as if all I ever do is bitch and whine about my life - about how wrong or right it's going, about how I feel and what I think (usually negative) about the state of the world and the people in it.  It's true, I do a lot of this and I know it.  I just felt the need all of a sudden to apologize for doing it, and I don't really know why.  It sometimes bothers me that it doesn't seem as if I have anything more to talk about than the state (or miserable state, such as it is) of my mental health.  But the thing is that it's been the forefront of things that I've had to deal with for the past few years.  I make no apologies for THAT much. 

 

The truth is that I don't really hold any strong opinions of issues of the day - and that worries me.  Oh, sure, I feel this way about a certain thing, or that way about a certain thing - but it's sort of a fatalistic feeling.  Like.. "It would be nice if things go my way... but I really don't expect them to, and if they don't, I guess I'll just live with whatever happens, because I can't control the outcome."  Like if they made abortion illegal or something.  I wouldn't like it, but I can't control what happens, so if it's made illegal, I'd just live with it.  What good does complaining do?  And I know that's sad, but yet it's how I feel.  I have no control over anything that happens - so what's the use in fighting it?

 

This comes from watching my mother marching in all of those "demonstrations" during my childhood.  Yeah, great, she spoke out for what she believed in, that's just wonderful.  But at what cost?  What good did any of it do?  The world today is even WORSE off now than when she was doing all of that, and in the end it cost me the support I desperately needed during my childhood and adolescence.  Because she was never, ever around when I really needed her.  Because she was absent when I was confused, scared, and hurting from the bullshit I was going through in junior high school.

 

Let me tell you all something - this bullshit with "bullying in school" isn't new.  It's not new at all.  The only difference today is that there's more attention being paid to it.  Kids were killing themselves back then, too - or at least trying to.  I did.  I tried to kill myself at 15, and damn near succeeded.  And I assure you that my mother never knew it.  Nor did anyone in my family.

 

Why?  Because no one was fucking paying attention, that's why.  The only reason I'm still here today is because that suicide attempt failed.  That's the ONLY reason. 

 

I can say one thing, though - thank Christ I'm not a teenager today.  Thank... Christ.  Because I think my suicide attempt would have been no attempt, it would have been a fucking success.  The amount of cruelty that is omnipresent today - and the various methods that are used to wield it - it would make any child kill themselves.  I wouldn't survive these times.  I know that.  I am grateful that I at least escaped that much.

 

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, to be honest.  It's just general stuff that's been floating through my head in one form or another.  A story on the news will spark it, just a thought or two, and then it's gone.  I would have six thousand posts a day on this blog if I were able to retain all that I think about over the course of a day, so maybe that's a fortunate thing for you all, heh.

 

Oh, yes, back on track to where I was... which is generally being apologetic.  I don't know why I feel like I have to justify my actions, even here.  Perhaps it's my usual apology for just existing.  Who knows.

 

I try not to think much about the past anymore, or to even allow things to come into my mind that I don't want to remember.  I've banished them to a far, far corner of my empty head.  But there are times, there are still times, where I desperately wish that I could be what I used to be... or that I could be the person that I once had POTENTIAL to be.  If that makes sense.

 

Most people don't remember me when I was very small, but I wasn't always like this.  I used to be a gregarious, outgoing, extroverted person - especially when I was very young.  Before I found out that life hurt.  Before I found out that people, as a general rule, are cruel and thoughtless.  No one realizes just how very much I want to be that child again, the child without a care in the world and trusting in people to do the right thing.  I guess, though, that it's a thought that a lot of people share, that I guess I'm not so different after all.

 

Thanks if you've read this far.  I'll be okay, really.  I have my classes coming up soon (and the Spanish one is going to be a BITCH, I can already say that right now), and work always keeps me busy.  I have the house to work on, too, when I can.  I have zero money right now, meh, but I guess that'll be the case for a while until I can maintain some kind of a schedule and/or routine.  Once I do, though, it'll all be okay.

 

Life really isn't THAT awful.  I'm just a little lonely sometimes, that's all, and that's unfortunately very normal for me.  I should count my blessings while I'm ahead, you think?

 

More later.

 

 

 

Positive people make me sick. And other rantings. Redux x 2.

This post was originally written yesterday (Monday), but I never had time to finish it, thanks to the bullshit that goes down at work.  So, I'll paraphrase it here, then continue on with my usual pointless rambling.  See below.

 

Monday....

 

So I'm donig my usual odious duties at the lab today, and I get told by a coworker, in short, that "I have no right to complain" about my job.  Now - keep in mind - all that I said was "It's Monday, bleh." 

 

Those three little words got me a 15 minute lecture about how "there are plenty of people who would be grateful to have my job" and how "people can't feed their kids" and "if I didn't feel like being here, I shouldn't be here, I should be somewhere else".  That's right, ladies and gentlemen.  All because I said a simple fact - it's Monday.  Yes, I added a "bleh" to that, but who wouldn't?  Who enjoys their weekend coming to an end, especially when they have to deal with idiot drug addicts that can't understand simple words, never mind complex concepts of life?  And even if I did - so the fuck what?

 

I will reveal the fact that said coworker doesn't even work IN my unit.  He works upstairs, you see, maknig over six figures as a lab technician for a different department altogether.  So, yeah, I guess it IS easy to be positive when you make six figures a year and don't have to even DEAL with the people I have to on a day in and day out basis.  Seriously, I wanted to fucking hand-chop him in the throat. 

 

I have never, ever said that I wasn't grateful to be employed.  Every day, I'm happy I have a job, no matter how disgusting it might be.  But I'm entitled to complain every once in a fucking while, especailly with all the BULLSHIT I have to put up with.  As for people feeding their kids?  Hey, those people CHOSE to have those kids - it's not on me to feel guilty that those same people can't provide for them.  I am so tired of people playing the "think of the chiiiiiildren!" card!  If you can't afford to raise a child, whether physically, time-wise, or money-wise, then don't fucking HAVE them - don't use them as an excuse for why YOU can't get ahead in life.  And as for not feeling like being here?  I NEVER feel like being here, but the plain fact is that I need the paycheck - it's why 95% of people work, so I don't want to hear that crap either.

 

End Monday... now on to Tuesday.. 

 

The above exchange was really all that I truly had to say on the matter, I guess.  I'm feeling a little better today, simply because of the fact that I finally got some sleep - Sunday night/Monday morning I couldn't sleep for shit.  I hate how the weekend affects my schedule.  But... there's always new things to bitch about, I suppose, and today is no different. 

 

I have a few people that I know - I won't make a joke and call them "friends" or anything - that seem to just drop in and out of my life when they want to.  You know the kind of people I mean?  They're never around when you need them, or want to talk to them or anything - they call you when it's convenient or when they're bored or similar.  I'm starting to discover that I have an awful lot of these people in my life - and the decision, ultimately, is whether or not I want them to remain a part of my life, not that they're really in it anyway unless it's convenient for them.  The real question is - am I satisfied with that?

 

And I'm starting to think that the answer is no.

 

Sheesh... part THREE now, it's Wednesday -

 

I think I'm just going to call this post finished, though I have (or had, at least) a lot more to say.  It's pointless bitching anyway, for the most part.

 

I will say that I feel considerably better than I did when I began this post on Monday, though that doesn't mean very much in my world, I guess.  Still tired, still sick of humanity, still disillusioned with life in general - i.e., nothing new.

 

Hopefully the next time I try to make a post in here, I'll actually finish it the same day.

 

It's straightening out. Whew.

Everything is starting to even out, albeit slowly and painfully.  I've begun developing the routines that I'll need to survive my workday, blah blah, and it's helping me to feel a bit more secure, though I'm nowhere near where I want to be as far as the house is concerned.  Still, I'm beginning to make plans, and that's always a good sign, I suppose.  This weekend I plan on tackling the kitchen, as I'm tired of the boxes in there and not being able to turn on my stove because half of my shit is piled on top of it. 

 

This is my new reality, I guess I'd better get used to it.  As I stated - I'm still nowhere near where I want to be, with any of this, but... it is what it is, so I have to make the best of things.

 

There's still a lot to get done, though.  I'm having issues with my financial aid this semester - I'm trying to order my books and they're telling me I don't have any financial aid to do it, which is utter bullshit.  At least, I hope so.  I can't afford to take more money out on a loan for a mere 300 dollars' worth of books.  I'm already into this school for a shitload as it is.  Guess I'll have to call them, yet another thing to add to the massive to-do list...

 

The financial picture is still a bit bleak, but once I get that 8k in, a lot of things will clear up - a LOT.  I'm counting on that.  But we all know how the gubmint works, at least those of us in America - they'll take however long they want about things.  I should know, I work for 'em.

 

I've decided to go ahead with the party, though it'll have to be a "drop in and eat" affair, which I think may actually work better for some people. 

 

I had a lot more on my mind, but I've actually been quite suddenly afflicted with a headache, a rather strong one at that.  Ugh.  That's all I need, another weekend wasted due to my ailments, whether mental or physical in nature.  And I don't have the extra time this weekend, it'll be a full week of drug addicts and insanity starting Monday.  Whoo.  Thrilling stuff, isn't it?

 

I hope I can get through today without being too incredibly bored - Friday, y'know.  I could be doing so much more at home, but, meh.  In time, I guess. 

 

 

Actually grateful to be back at work.

Imagine that.  On a Tuesday, yet.  But I have had what can only be described as a rather "weepy" weekend.  I've been crying on and off ever since Saturday morning, all the way up to this morning on the train.  Double-you tea eff.  I'm happy to be here simply to get my stupid, cracked mind to stop wandering to subjects that I just don't need or want to think about.  Still not feeling too good, though.  I don't know if that's because of the weather or what - it's been cold, rainy, generally grey, which I normally love.  But today?  I think I'd actually pay to see the sun again.  Not at all like me.

 

I keep trying to convince myself that it's just the stress of buying the house finally coming to roost, that it's all "caught up" to me and now I'm going through the emotional fallout.  I also tell myself that it's "that time of the month" (I'm sure that's more than you needed to know, but let's face it - shit happens, I'm a female, fucking deal), that it's coming up on school again and I've got that on my mind, that I just have a lot to do and it's overwhelming, oh I keep making up all sorts of excuses which are, in the end, just excuses.  The plain fact is that I don't know what's the fucking matter with me and my eyes are leaking like rusty sieves when I least expect it.  That's the long and short of it.

 

At least these idiots at work are keeping me nice and occupied, though it actually hasn't been that horrible of a day (but then again, it's lunchtime right now, so let's withhold judgement until the afternoon, shall we). 

 

My main fear right now is that the depression is starting to return (and it's never really been 'dormant' in the first place, it's always there, this is not something you can turn on and off like a faucet).  Being alone doesn't help that.  I'm afraid that I'll give in to my baser impulses, which is to simply cut myself off from the rest of the world and never emerge again but to go to work - otherwise my social contact is nil.  It's nil now, but I'll end up not even trying.  I don't really want that to happen, but I can see it coming, and I'm so afraid that I'll just give in and never try again.  I know myself.  I have no incentive to get out or invite anyone into my world.  What's really fucked is that on some days, I don't want anyone around me ever again... and then there are the days where I want it so badly that I cry my stupid head off for the lack of it.  Again... double-you tea eff.

 

Who knows what the fuck is wrong with me.  Maybe I'm normal and it's the rest of the world that's fucked.

 

Back to work, meh.  On a side note - never try to open a botle of frozen diet Coke.  You will end up regretting it.  Trust me.

Just when I thought it was all over.

Despite my rather valiant efforts, I have not had a real good weekend. I've been in physical pain for most of it, and the plain, simple fact is that the realization is now starting to hit me - that I've contracted to purchase this house, it's permanent, and that all of the real work now begins.

This wouldn't be so bad, but for the fact that 1. I've never had such control over my own life; and 2. it's all so goddamned overwhelming.

I had a breakdown in the Ikea parking lot today for reasons unknown, until I really thought about it - and the plain fact, it's too many decisions. People keep telling me that I'm not under a time pressure - that I have time to think, that I can decide any time I want to. All well and good, except that I can't make a decision. I've never been any good with deciding anything, from major decisions such as buying this place to begin with, to a simple one such as what color dishes to get. I just can't do it - I freeze up, I'm always scared of doing the wrong thing, of screwing up, and that's a natural consequence of being told, in not so many words, that you've been a screwup all of your life.

Today was the first day in a long time that I felt out of control of my own head. It's not at all a good sign.

I'm also starting to face the fact that my life is what it is now. That I'm more or less all alone out here, left to my own devices. Most of the time, I'm okay, if not great. But today is one of those days where I just feel utterly abandoned and unwanted by the world. And that's when all of the memories come back, like ghosts that won't go away. Memories of when I was married, of before I was married, of after and all of the utter destruction that was caused and is now behind me in the rear view mirror. Destruction that I somehow can't escape, as much as I try to forget.

Today I feel like the screwup that I've always been called. Today, for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe I shouldn't really be alive.

No, no. No worries. I'm safe tonight. But it's a fleeting wish that I could have all of the time back again, that I could make something more out of my life than what I have now. Yes, I'm in a better position in a lot of ways, and I'm grateful for what I do have. I just feel raw... and very, very scared. And that what I'm feeling isn't normal, but then nothing I apparently do is 'normal', anyway.

I hope that this is just a dip in the road. I hope that my depression isn't starting to come back. I don't want it back, I don't want it back, I don't want it. I don't want to be sick anymore.

Sleep. I hope that tomorrow will be better.

Settling in.

I've moved fully into the house, though I'm not at all unpacked, never mind being close to organized. I'm living out of boxes at the present, which shouldn't really bother me - I'm used to that. Still, I've asked for next Monday off, in the hopes that I can get some things done. I'm finding that I'm really tired of tripping over my bicycle because it's halfway in the kitchen.

Otherwise, life is as normal. I got my promotion and raise, starting this upcoming check, and don't think that's not a relief. It came just in time, seeing that my living expenses seem to be going up like a rocket. I'm told that will settle down over time - I hope so. Despite the fact that I've qualified and sent off for the 8k tax credit for the house, it's still not going to go too far - I need to set up an emergency fund, which is going to take almost half of it. (And so it should - I never know when something's going to go up, heh.)

Still thinking about the housewarming party, though it doesn't look as if a lot of people want to come - big surprise there. We'll see, but I'm not going to spend a fuckload of money if people aren't willing to be there. I can't eat a bushel of crabs by myself, as tempting as that might sound. I'm not really so much upset over the fact that a lot of people can't come, or don't want to come - I'm rather antisocial, so I expected as much. I guess that it just highlights how antisocial I've been and continue to be. It's another thing that the depression has taken from me, another thing amongst countless things.

Besides, with the recent oil spill in Louisiana and all, it might be that I won't be able to afford to hold this shindig, after all. Crabs are already at 250 a bushel and they're predicting one expensive-assed summer. So... time will tell, I suppose.

I'm tired today. Tuesday, y'know. The addicts seemed to be a lot busier than usual over the weekend, must've been a fresh supply of cocaine in the District or something, who knows.

Anyhow, that's the update for now. Hopefully I'll have some pictures to show when I finally get some time to take care of this stuff.

Exhausted... but it's all over with.

I am really, really tired... too tired to hold my head up. But it's all over with. I'm moved in. I'm done. I will never, ever move again, not unless I want to and not unless I feel like it. No one is ever going to fucking make me leave somewhere again. Ever.

More later, I promise. I'm too exhausted to write more right now.