The Way I Am

I am feeling Eminem today. “I don’t know, it’s just the way I am.” I hate rap, generally but I have always had a soft spot for Eminem. I admire the way he’s so unapologetic even when he’s being an absolute dick. I want to be more like him instead of wallowing in societal programmed guilt for every flaw I have that people choose to take as some personal affront to them.

I am so sick of being surrounded by hypocrites saying I can’t accept them for who they are and I am too negative and critical when it all started with their rejection of me for having a mental illness. Yes, I am moody. No, it is not intentional. I get panicked, I lash out because I feel threatened. I am unstable and I do act rather flaky because I’m so often not in my right mind. And rather than accept me as being ill, I get to listen to how it’s my personality, it’s my outlook on life, it’s my temperament, it’s everything but it actually fucking is.

In Pet Semetary it was “Sometimes, dead is better.” In my life, it’s “sometimes, alone is better.”

I am having a BAD mental day today. The brain zaps from coming off Viibryd have begun and I feel sad and angry and unfocused and frankly, a little schizo. But rather than get an ounce of understanding, I get told I am a disappointment and a flake who lets my problems get the better of me by choice.

In this instance, I wish I could be exactly like Eminem and tell them to suck my dick. Crude and offensive but no less the truth. (I wonder how many readers will run screaming into the night because I said something so disgusting,ha, meet me in real life, that’s EXACTLY how I talk and I don’t apologize because if foul language is my worst sin, I should be so fucking lucky.)

I am not in good shape, at all. My scalp is crawling again, itchy and giving the illusion of bugs. Then I get ZAP ZAP ZAP deep in my brain every ten seconds or so, which is uber fun. NOT.

I keep trying to take the high road and remind myself this too shall pass but for the moment, I’m living it and IT SUCKS.

I am broken out in hives, to boot. Started at bedtime last night, just started spontaneous itching and breaking out in red splotches. My kid had a rough night again, so maybe it’s anxiety from worrying about her. Or I am really just this much of a freak.

Freaks need love and acceptance,too.

Ha. More likely to find a damn unicorn.

So maybe my attitude does suck. I wonder if I wasn’t in a depression and withdrawal, sleep deprived and stressed out, if things might seem less grim to my mind.

Oh, but nooo, that’s just logical we can’t have that because it doesn’t allow people room to pass judgment on me. It’s so much easier to believe I am a waste of space than to entertain the notion my illness really does get this bad sometimes and it taints everything.


Well…Plus side, I was watching an episode of Bones and found a song I liked so I bought it from Amazon. That cheered me up for 2.3 seconds. Until I realized downloads used to be 99 cents and now they’re $1.29. Greedmongers can’t figure out why people download illegally. Stop making it so expensive to be legit, damn it. Yeah, I know a buck is cheap, blah blah blah. It’s the principle.

My Paxil should be filled by tomorrow. Maybe that will start a new chapter for me, it could work. I gotta have hope. It’s all I’ve got at this point.

And if anyone says “You have your kid and your health” I am going to have to put a voodoo curse on you. You could have the holy grail and in a depression, it only makes you more depressed because joy eludes.

Anhedonia it is called, the shrink said. Inability to feel joy from anything. I may be the posterchild right now.

****I am pondering sanitizing this post because I know my language is offensive to some but ya know what? If swearing runs off followers, then maybe I don’t want them following me. Because I am a flawed human being who is very emotional and sometimes that emotion comes out as anger and i swear accordingly. Take me as is or leave me.


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