Into the abyss and back again

I’m back to functional today, albeit in a low way.
Yesterday, though…I hung tough for a long time but then…Wham. The mood didn’t just tank, it died. I was in a dark space, pounding on the walls of my own mind, screaming LET ME OUT!
Didn’t work.
I was stuck there, wanting only to sleep, do a brain reboot. I got so sleepy at 6:30 I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My daughter showed no signs of winding down so I forced myself to binge eat to stay awake. Beef jerky and sour cream and onion chips bring the child to a quiet jabber rather than rapid uzi fire.

By the time she actually went to sleep…My sleepiness was gone. I just lay in bed, tossing and turning, half watching, half listening to a Deadly Women playlist. My mind went round and round. Obsessing on every slight committed against me by people who claim to care.
Then the guilt for feeling betrayed because…
Well, because I’ve been programmed to feel guilty for having feelings that get hurt when apparently the rest of the world does not.
I don’t consider myself all that sensitive outside of shark week prelude. I’ve been called fat ass, bitch- whatever. I laugh it off or snark it away.
But betrayal…I don’t shake that off easily.
I want to.
I just can’t.
Because while others may see shaking it off as forgiving…I view it as a weakness for the people who hurt me to further exploit. “Look, I fucked her over once and she’s too nice to realize what a manipulative asshole I am…I’m gonna keep doing it and dumb bunny she is, she will let me.”
Having kindness mistaken for weakness pisses me off.
I’d rather be seen as an angry grudge holding bitchbeast than weak.

I rant, therefore I am.
Point being, biting my tongue is what probably lead to last night’s crash into the abyss. If I can’t rant it out and confront those who hurt me…I bottle it up and it eats me alive. I want to tie all the negative stuff to a balloon and watch it drift off into the sky…
But I am not there yet. I may never be.
So I continue walking on egg shells, trying to use people as they use me, but I’m the only one who wastes even a fraction of a second feeling bad for doing it.
I could be the bigger person.
Not there yet, either.

I’ve got enough dealing with my moods and anxieties, I don’t need betrayals and guilt on top of it. That’s why I’ve gotten to the point of “Fuck it, I have enough friends. The voices in my head keep me company.”
But I think the bottom line, under all the hurt feelings, is the fact that I’ve just outgrown some of the people around me. They never change, they never grow or evolve. They are like smelly stagnant water and it’s time to dump out the bucket.
(Ever have a leak under the sink and have to put a bucket there? Yeah, that stench.)

The car is running like shit again.
I had to return two of my Christmas gifts that didn’t work.
I called my dad and he screamed at me because apparently my brother is being a douche so taking it out on me makes perfect sense.
I asked to speak to stepmonster.
I feel restless. I can’t get interested in shows, books, nothing holds my interest.
I am trying to write and I have done about a hundred pages but…my attention wanders and I can’t stay on track so it’s going in a direction I don’t much like. I’m not in that “pocket” where the real world is a peripheral and the fictional world is the pocket to slip into. That’s what writing is for me, anyway.
Getting into that pocket. Life goes on around you, but there’s that other world to escape into.
Outside the pocket, it just feels like work. Like trying to hard and failing.
It’s a bummer.

Okay, mental purge complete.
Just in time for reality to binge me on more garbage I will need to purge later on.
Rinse, lather, repeat, such is life.

On the less sucky side, there are three adorable kittens outside. They are feral but I feed them same as the other strays. Kittens are like a drug for me. You could show me a disemboweled corpse but if a kitten was beside it, I would see only the kitty.
Cats are just children wearing fur coats.
Without the channeling satan tantrums.

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