A Fine Vintage Of Bitter

(Thank you to Shadow for inspiring this title, as well as my new description of myself.)

I have spent far too much time in the dish the last two days. Which my idea of too much would barely be a full work day for the mundanes but for me, it’s overdose, systemic poisoning, I AM CRYING FRACKING UNCLE! And what did I do that was so taxing, aside from being outside my bubble? Um…Sat on my ass at the shop watching conspiracy theory videos with R, fetching smokes for us both, and getting a free lunch. Some would call that socializing. Some would consider it fun.

I am not some. Don’t get me wrong, I know I have to force myself out of the comfort zone for my own “sanity” because isolation feeds depression. The trade off is, I came home today with a churning stomach ache, pounding heart, and sense of a black cloud over my head. Damn conspiracy videos and Jade Helm and government and…Call me self centered but I really do not have the psychological resources to ponder all the ugliness going on in the world. I believe in government conspiracies, mind you. I am fairly certain we are all doomed. I just CANNOT handle the anxiety it induces when I’m already drowning in anxiety from my meager existence and self limited exposure to things of petri dish. Though…Watched the trailer for a movie that was in development called Gray State, and omg, I must see the whole movie. Which isn’t gonna happen because whatever footage is out there is being removed promptly but I must…see…it. (Don’t bother telling me to put on a tinfoil hat or watch what I say, I am sure I’m already on government watch lists just by associating with R and his obsession with them.) But seriously…I want to see that movie. I don’t even like movies. That’s gotta indicate how much my interest was piqued. Of course, it would probably be detrimental to my mental health issues but, damnit…Trainwreck. Can’t look away.

Off the tinfoil hat soapbox.

We had a huge storm last night, lost power for hours. Which in a humidity laden sweat box is akin to being in the fires of Hell. I went and sat out in the rain, it was so hot in here. I even brought the kittens out of their safe seclusion because they were so warm, their fur was damp. Oddly, storms don’t really freak me out. When the tornado alarms sounded..I went and took a shower. My kid was safely at mom’s so I wasn’t even all that nervous. Sitting in the rain was wondermous. I kept hoping to get hit by lightning. Well, not really, but it was a spectacular lightning show. I have this bizarre fascination with dangerous things that could kill me yet are still beautiful to me.

Hours. No fans, no wifi, nothing. I couldn’t find a fecking flashlight anywhere. So I went around lighting candles, only to realize I had no holders for taper candles so I had put together a makeshift one out of aquarium gravel as weight and a long stemmed vase as the holder. *Note to self- it’s been three damned years and the plastic is still on that nice LED lantern dad bought you…BUY SOME FECKING BATTERIES ALREADY, DUMBASS, AND YOU WON’T HAVE THAT PROBLEM.* Wait, I spent all my battery allowance on my kid’s toys. Priorities, ya know. LeapPad is a wonderful baby sitter.

Eventually went to R’s after he popped by to bring me something, felt how hot it was in here, and ordered me to come to his house before I got heatstroke or something. He had no power, either, but we sat outside smoking in the drizzle waiting for it to come back up. He dispatched me to fetch smokes. Man never has cash and the credit card machines were down. That irked me cos it meant going back to see if he had cash, then another trip into the dish. Dished the fuck out here.

Eventually power was restored, storm died down, life went on. Except I had to restart my slave computer so everything else would come back up. I tried to return my dad’s calls from last night and my MagicJack informed me I couldn’t make that call because I don’t have an international calling plan. I realize he lives in Bumfuck and all, but I am fairly sure 12 miles out of town is not international. WTF, MagicJack? Storm had everything all wonky.

The last two days I’ve been forcing myself into gear by jumping into an ice cold shower. Thirty seconds. Ice cold. It’s that hot in my place. I took FOUR showers yesterday because I was just so overheated and sweaty. Guess I’m making up for all those days during winter and spring when I couldn’t be arsed to shower but a couple of times a week. It’s helping right now, but that dark undertow in my brain is telling me not to get cocky and think it’s a long term improvement. I don’t know what that undertow is about. I literally do not find things fun anymore. Not comedy shows or movies. Not going out, not the remote chance of being able to face an amusement park and ride roller coasters (which I used to love). I enjoy nothing. Total anhedonia. It’s not conscious, it’s not pleasant, and I sure as hell don’t like it. I don’t know where it’s coming from but if an anti depressant is helping with that aspect, it’s not doing a very good job, even if I am remotely functional (for a couple of days, anyway.)

In other news…I’ve got that thing going on where my PH is imbalanced and I get these rash type spots on  my arms and torso from where my own sweat is viewed as some sort of invader by my immune system. I am itchy and bruised-feeling constantly. It goes away during winter, but summer, when it’s sparked by perspiration, is miserable. Throw in all the bugs and getting flea bites outside, I need a loratadine the size of a semi hubcap. And I swear, I do not go seeking things to make me miserable just for the joy of complaining. I’ve had this allergy thing since childhood, summers are a misery for me. Factoid.

I haven’t done fuck all by way of housework. Too hot.  I think it’s gonna cool off slightly tomorrow, I’ll tackle it then. After so many hours in the dish and the mounting anxiety (in spite of a xanax)…I am due a break. I give myself permission to do absolutely nothing today.

And for the morbidly curious with the stones to face reality based fiction (Call me Orwellian)…The movie that most likely never will be and yet should be. May the director and his family rest in peace. (Murder-suicide my ass.) DO NOT WATCH THIS IF IT COULD BE A TRIGGER. I am just a fan of contagion/disaster films so this trailer really hit me where I live.

 

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12 Responses to “A Fine Vintage Of Bitter”

  1. That film is the future. Hopefully I’ll be long dead. I prefer surviving natural disasters. I was thrilled in my dream last night. Weird, I know.

  2. That movie is def our future, some things are already happening, WTF ever, nothing I can do, except hand out handfuls of meds for me & my fam to gobble,, more concerned with my family, I’ve lived with this shit all/most of my life

    • In my true nature, when I watched that clip and saw all the shelves emptied…I actually thought, “Oh, fuck, we all need to start hoarding our psych meds…” I might do okay without the mood stabilizer and anti depressant (as in go manic, start a riot, go depressive and curl up in a sewer pipe) but wow, am I glad I’ve stockpiled Xanax 😉

      I told R earlier that I feel guilty that I brought my child into what this world has become, and is becoming. So not the future I wanted for her and yet…There it is. Nothing we can do about it. They WILL have to euthanize/murder me before I let them microchip me. I already have a parasitic twin in my brain, I got no room for extra visitors in my body 😉

      On Tue, Jul 14, 2015 at 3:41 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

      • Yeah saw the MRI of your brain, WOW Dood! Yep I got a handful of xanies stashed. I worry about Nikki & esp Jayden because he’s still ‘a baby’ like Spook. As far as microchiping, stupid grp of employees at a company (forget what kind -Google) in either Sweden? voluntarily chipped (grain sized) in skin on top of hand,,, I had a fucking weird ass dream when I was in my early 20’s. We were nuked & I ran outside to help some kids. I saw flashing, my skeleton was illuminated like an X-ray,,, & then incinerated,,, WHOA! heavy shit, still remember it!

      • Your dream sounds like the opening scene in Terminator 2. That scene haunts me to this day.

        On Tue, Jul 14, 2015 at 4:09 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

      • I haven’t seen that movie (not a big fan) in so long I forget that scene,,, but Google that Sweden/microchip thing,,,

      • Just watched it, my dream was fiery hot & bright like the sun exploded. I can see how that bothers you

  3. Going to play a different tac, but not too off course!
    Lightning, thunder, storms… Fucking great… Drove through a friggin torrential storm a couple of weekends back and wanted to pull over, look at the fork lightening for kicks, passengers in the back not too thrilled however!
    Not fucked up like me so give them credit for playing nice with the program, and I got paid for taxi duty
    Funny enough I wrote a short piece featuring lightening that night

    And summer… Fuck off and give me article cold with clear grey skies with a side order of occasional light rain, I’m standing there in a hail storm as bikini and swim trunk crowd are running for shelter, me with the other freaks!

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