I said I would not post today because it is one of my high anxiety days, but fell asleep last night in Girlie’s room watching her breathe, so I’m posting today. I’m sorry.
I startled awake on my left side at 2 am
face down on my hand in front of my computer
a car horn blowing for what
seemed like an hour but
probably was only five minutes
until I realized the crickets plus
the trains plus the horn must have
short circuited my brain into hearing
the sound of a 1970’s oven cooking timer,
skin crawling like a pepsi and sugar junkie.
(I didn’t mention back pain but there was significant enough pain for me to notice but not put in the first draft. What? You thought this was unedited? Do you have any sense of how many times I have to read this to make sure that the incoherent thoughts are actually spelled correctly?)
Oh, I have fallen off the wagon of health and well
ness to the ground of decadence, caffeine and chocolate cookies.
I’m going into some type of withdrawal. I need to sleep.
I left the worst Godzilla film with Michael Broderick in it
wondering, what has become of those actors and why
was My Bear leaving the house so early that it is dark
outside. Didn’t he hear the mayhem of the toilet over- bb v b n bfvghn vyub byrtekm,,,,,,,6 (Girlie says hi)
flowing and the serial gravity flushing of 8 containers of water?
followed by what felt like morning sickness. I think we need
a new toilet that is not shedding its inner skin of calcified
ick hard well water. I left my chamber of horrors with a
“you have got to be kidding me” and “give me a break!”
to a sleeping house (I checked the baby) with him
in the driveway ready to drive away, neighbors,
“sure she does look crazy now, walking around in a long shirt”
“Where the hell are you going?” I ask because my mind says
you help a vomiting woman, he said, “You sounded busy.
I’m driving the slow way to work.”
Disbelief and fear of primal screaming,
I turn around shut the door and
turn off the light.
I’ve got to be dreaming,
but no, this is my reality.
Sometime yesterday, I slipped into withdrawal,
but could not remember that I had not taken my
big blue pill, which is the most important one. Viibryd.
The partial re-uptake inhibitor that keeps me balanced,
less depressed and less frightened,
that I ran out of the day after a major holiday.
Yesterday morning, in addition to losing my glasses,
which by the way are impossible for me to look for since I can’t see them,
I can’t drive without my glasses since I’m as blind as a bat
I also missed an appointment for Girlie’s immunization,
the last one she’ll need before kindergarten
(they keep repeating that very important fact,) and as a result,
I caused a “you shall be on time to county appointments” shaming orientation session
red flag on both our county health records which stops us both
from being able to use county health services
until I attend this session because poor people must be dumb
and have no dignity or pride left anyway.
Sure, I understand it is very rude of me to be so inconsiderate to set up an appointment then to
have a panic attack and/or anxiety attack before arriving
making myself late for an appointment
if I can drive at all by that point.
I should plan my panic attacks 24 hours in advance
so that someone else can take my appointment time.
I could, endanger myself and my child and everyone
on the road near me and drive while I sob,
if I could find my keys,
if I could find my glasses
just so I can get to an appointment on time.
Which is more important?
Death or timeliness?
I just don’t know?
I’m pretty sure being alive is important.
This county appears to need order in order to give services
why would I ask for help if I had any self respect left.
I’m trying to grow my own food and
as long as that is not illegal
I will do what I can to make sure I don’t
piss off the powers that be here
though I guess it is already too late.
I lost my keys in my purse
which makes me believe that the
alternative reality that happens
in my dreams is true,
though I truly know this is the
broad plaid flag of my mental illness.
There is a small window of opportunity before
I go further off the edge into real crazy, because
someone may see me leave the house though I have
been okay for such a long time. Now, I’m afraid that
everything I did yesterday is subject to the scrutiny of my
“crazy filter” which means I really do need to hide from
anyone who can see me and let them take everything away
because I deserve nothing that I have and should disappear
into the woods. Haven’t I already be there this month?
Should the visitation of my red demon of a menstrual cycle
be a sign that all is lost since my hormones contribute to
the shame, the fear, the crazy and the delusional
that I’m supposed to be in control of,
since I am an adult and
I would have been in medicine compliance
had I not been afraid (terrified) of a new pharmacy.
I am no different than my children,
I am actually worse
because I am the source of all the things wrong with them
since I gave this stupidity to them, plus I should know better.
Usually, at this point I’m mentally screaming hysterically in my head in terror
to drown out the sound of crickets and frogs that are laughing at me.
You know like a 1970’s Hammer horror film with the fish eye camera lens that
proves how crazy I must be, though I am quietly writing in bed.
Pluses: 1. Girlie has a new mattress, I just have to try to put the crib together. (yeah, that's up there with me owning a water filter, therefore, I will sweat solder it into the waterlines in the basement, because I can do anything. Right (sarcasm.)) 2. My Child's in home therapist gave me some strategies for dealing with him after the worst holiday weekend visit ever. 3. the Silent Sentinel, Girlie, my bear and I have enough food for the week 4. I picked up my prescription though I did lose a block of time, did I remember to take the pill? no. 5. I remember that I need to look for a psychiatrist and general practitioner who are closer to where I live. 6. I'm supposed to check out NAMI in this county and see if they can give some emotional organizational support. 7. A friend may come for a visit, though I'm not supposed to get my hopes up, because everyone has stuff going on and I'm not more important than anyone. 8. My tear ducts are working just fine. 9. I'm not on a cell phone so I can't possible ruin it. (I really don't know where it is so would someone call it please? 10. I'm not dead. 11. Girlie has not escaped from her room yet, though I heard her talking earlier so I know she is awake. 12. If I walk by her room, she may jump up and give me a hug, though the people who can take her from me don't want me to use her to be happy, which makes me feel bad for being happy she's here. 13. Salty tears can only ruin a laptop keyboard if you have short arms. 14. It looks like it rained outside, so I don't think I have to worry about dead plants that I forgot to water. 15. My front yard looks better than my living room. 16. I have a place to live. 17. I don't remember having a place I can be late to today so that's a plus. 18. I reserve the right to choose to use punctuation and capitalization as an artistic choice. 19. You think I've got nineteen things to be thankful for? 20. I think I managed to double book only one activity yesterday. 21. I'm over the age of twenty-one, so I no longer give a shit about alcohol. 22. Fat chance of ever being pregnant again, they made sure of that. 23. Girlie is up and talking to her room, saying,"Good bye." I think that means I have to get it all together and function again. 24. ESR and My Child both have new glasses and I made it to a therapy session with his therapist. 25. Sobbing is supposed to be cathartic.
My computer tells me today is September 10th, so I have been writing this post since Tuesday the 8th. No one can cry that long. Girlie now has a crib. I made my Bear go find tools and help put it together. I spent yesterday distributing leaves around my garden (free compost.) I should post a photo of the row of trees that were planted.
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Obviously, WordPress is not in the mood to upload my image of trees today, maybe tomorrow…
4 thoughts on “24 Partial Sanity list- Long and sad, so get tissues or read it another day”
Sweet MFM, I wish we lived around the corner. I probably couldn’t help you a lot, but I could at least lend an ear, an arm, a hand, whatever. I know you’re having trouble hanging on, but you’re doing it. Maybe not with a lot of class, but whoever said that was part of the job? Oh, Mrs. Father Knows Best? Well don’t you believe it! And remember this: Nothing good in the world has ever been done by well-rounded people. The good work is done by people with jagged, broken edges, because those edges cut things and leave an imprint, a design. (Harry Crews) You’re doing GOOD WORK with your family. Even when it doesn’t feel like it! Love & hugs, girlfriend.
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Thanks Calen. I guess my jagged edges matter.
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That’s why you’re a terrific mom AND artist!
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Thank you. I need all the encouragement I can get. My ex is a chaos demon and is making life difficult.
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