not dressedMeh, pants are overrated, anyway. I’ll get to it later when I have to face the dish.

I don’t know why but Sunday has always been my least favorite day of the week. Which is odd, since it’s a non business day (legal business such as mail service) so one would think it’d be my calm day. Instead I find it dull and pointless, as it has a vibe of its own that I find a bit oppressive. Maybe ‘cos everything opens late, closes early, reminds me of some bow down to organized religion. (Not that I wanna drink, but being told I have to wait til 12:30 pm due to some antiquated notion of going hell for purchasing alcohol before then pisses me off.) Or maybe because it’s the day before the week starts back up, which means more daunting dish time for me. I dunno. (Note to self: see how many followers I lose every time I reference religion in a “I don’t believe” way.)

I got my time out day yesterday. No people. Well, aside from Spook and yapping cats. Once I just let myself feel listless and crappy…I actually accomplished a few things. Did dishes, two loads of laundry, mowed the lawn. Cooked spaghetti and garlic bread for supper. Watched some crime shows I hadn’t seen before. (Which is astounding to me, not because I am in denial that crime, especially between spouses happens, it’s just that it happens so much there are like a dozen different shows with cases based on such thing. Forget the divorce rate, wtf is the spousal murder rate???)

I think I have at long last found a system that works for me. All my life I’ve had the “work first” mentality shoved down my throat. “Get it done, this comes first.” For me, the method has had an adverse effect, thwarting what little motivation I have. Especially with the anxiety and depression. Trying to fight the inertia of that stuff because it’s some societal expectation is grueling. Now, there are times when I am totally a “rip the bandage off” type. For the most part, though, self bullying and forcing myself to adapt to what works for a billion other people proves detrimental.

By allowing myself to just FEEL, be it anxious, depressed, tapped out, pissed off…As the feelings die down because the triggers have been removed or at least lessened…That’s when I start piddling about, doing things here and there. Thus I end up accomplishing lots. Not pressuring myself, that’s the key. I don’t even get why I’ve let myself fall prey to that trap, since I’ve always been a rebel and dressed the way I want, liked the things I like, without regard to what others think. If taking a step back and being lazy for a couple of hours then getting shit done WORKS…I’m gonna go with it.

This afternoon, I am dropping Spook off at my mom’s for a sleepover. Which gives me an evening to myself. I have all these thoughts of what all I can get done…Yet it never turns out that way. By the time I get a break, all I want to do is enjoy the lack of “mommy mommy mommy” soundtrack. It’s gonna be 92 today which will pretty much make the trailer a sauna and I’ll do fuck all unless it involves sitting in front of a fan. Yet at night it cools down so much that even with one fan going, I have to turn it down to low. By then, my energy is gone so I get nothing done. While it may sound like a bunch of laziness and excuses, it really isn’t.

For me, it’s like creativity, writing. All the sun, mood, stars alignment thing. That’s how my mad housekeeping/rearranging/organizing vibe goes. It all aligns and it happens or it doesn’t. It doesn’t happen often.

I let Spook sleep in my bed last night. I know it makes me part of the problem instead of the solution but I had so much sensory overload with her constant noise and the crying kittens, all I wanted was quiet time in my bedroom. She likes watching Forensic Files (bad mommy) and I like when she’s absorbed and quiet so…Whatever. By nine, when the double Xanax wasn’t really helping and the VERY BAD THOUGHTS started…I got a bit scared. They whisper to me, not voices, but thoughts born of anxiety and depression and frustration. The longer I go without any significant progress with my meds, the worse it gets.

“Your kid deserves better than this, you’re just gonna fuck her up for life.”

“You have never succeeded at anything in your life, you’re just wasting space and robbing worthy people of air.”

“Not even your doctor thinks your problems are severe enough to pay attention, it’s all in your head.”

“You’re lazy, worthless, a drain on society.”

On and on it went, to the point the even worse thoughts crept in. Everyone seems to think it’s some self esteem issue. It’s not. I broke down and took half a melatonin, just for the quick action it has of getting me to sleep, especially when added to the double nighttime dose of Xanax. The thoughts will eat you alive if you let them run their endless loop. Fighting them only gets you so far. At some point, for your own protection, you seek solace in sleep.

Except my sleep brings such bizarre dreams I don’t find it a comfort, either.

To my credit, I took two showers yesterday (only ‘cos I was so sweaty and cat hair was clinging to my skin) and even bathed the spawn. The fact that such basic things seem so exhausting and daunting still bugs me. I  didn’t used to be this way. Well, actually, in a depression, I sort of was, but only with myself, never with my kid. I hope this Cymbalta dose increase kicks up, ‘cos with school starting, I am gonna need the energy.

On the plus side, even though each day seemed stressful and non ending…Summer has passed very quickly, all things considered. And I survived. I also feel shitty that I didn’t take her to do a damned thing all summer, not even a trip to the park. She got the unfortunate luck of having a mom who is allergic to all things outdoors, even direct sunlight. I need to do better and I always say I am gonna do better…But aside from one single summer where I did very well…Her childhood has been pretty lackluster. Of course, mine was, too, and I didn’t die.

Bygones. I can’t go dwelling on that shit or come nightfall, the very bad thoughts will return. I don’t want them back.

Still suffering mega anxiety for tomorrow. What if my new debit card doesn’t work? And how am I gonna pay the bills, get the shit I need, get her birthday gift, put decent clothes on her, get her supplies and school fees…GRRRR. Normally mom and dad help. Mom can’t get her clothes til after the 19th (school starts the 17th) and Dad gave me the normal “we’re broke” spiel last night. (Yeah, don’t spend three grand on a fancy bathroom if you know it’s gonna lead to being broke.) I’m gonna do the best I can and hope for the best. What else can I do?

For today…I am gonna be lazy, enjoy my break from being mommy, and hope eventually I accomplish something. Magic Hateball says unlikely. Fuck you, stupid ball.

It’s true. I may have to rise…But I’ll be damned if I am gonna shine.



10 Responses to “Sundazed”

  1. I found it disturbing too how common spouses get murdered on tv :l

  2. I woke up at 8, took my meds, fell back asleep, and I’m just now rising. I ain’t gonna shine either. Too much work.

  3. Zomg magic hateball yes yes yes, that bastard is running my life. What a mofo. Also, your freaking awesome with the quips.

  4. No shiny for me dudes, I’m still looking for my giraffe (Jake). Woke up at 4AM to pee,,, beer/alcohol bottles lying all over the floor. cute pizza delivery guy crashed on the couch. Stereo blasting, front door wide open ~ giraffe nooo where to be found!?! FUCK, i’m goin’ back to bed,,,,

    • The giraffe abducted Sass’s cute neighbor guy and partied without US? Okay, forget my shrink, Sass gets to maim the giraffe’s balls for excluding us!

      • Nah, hold off on that,,, he was passed out on the bathroom floor! & you wondered if giraffes could even get drunk,,, BTW, get this, he smokes Camels (camels & giraffes are related species wise) gotta love my drunken conversations with my G’,,,

      • I’m sensing a whole new mythical crossbreed here….Camegiraffe.

        Whole product line for energy drinks and smokes..”Stick your neck out, get your hump on…Camegiraffe!”

        On Sun, Aug 2, 2015 at 2:22 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • Cameraffe, Gamel,,, LTFOL! just gotta watch it, camels spit

  5. I know those thoughts very well. I’m having a life crisis in which my mind constantly bombards me with that shit unless I’m totally occupied. Which is hard when the attention span is crap. I can’t even sit through movies anymore.

    • That was how it started for me, I used to looove movies..Now I can’t sit through them for shit, though the Focalin helps. El Shrinko says ADD is quite common with bipolar, which explains why I have such omg look at that bunny wearing a pancake on its head!

      My attention span is fine.

      On Mon, Aug 3, 2015 at 3:56 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


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