Explain it to me, Lucifer

No trigger, no explanation. Woke at six a.m. mid panic attack, heart pounding, head spinning. I had a relatively peaceful night so…I don’t get it. And I really don’t get why I took a Xanax hours ago and my heart is still racing and I feel one step from full force fight or flight mode.

So, splain it to me, Lucifer. For surely anxiety is born of the devil.

I have, after taking my pound of flesh, forgiven R. You’d think apologizing was a prostate exam for the man, he can’t stand to admit when he does shitty things. It’s gotta be everyone else, it can’t be him. Whatever. Fact is, he’s useful and if that’s what I take away from that friendship, as my former counselor said, “Accept what you can get.” So…buy me smokes, gimme Mangoritas, and oh, I need some household stuff and catfood. Then I’ll forgive. Forgetting is the hard part cos right when I do forget, he’ll go assfuckery again. But it’s the subhuman condition. I’m not so pleasant myself, we’re all guilty of being assholey from time to time. I’m not absolving rudeness. I am learning to go with what I can get. Frankly, if I shun any more people and isolate myself even more, I’m gonna run the risk of being labeled and anti social hermit. I prefer the term introverted loner.

Another kitten died. I am down to Arsenic now and I am so attached, I want to put him in a plastic hamster ball to protect him from whatever these cats got into that killed them. I rack my brain, did I spill laundry soap and they ingested it? Did they eat a dead bug that had gotten into my bug poison? Did I clean the cat boxes with some cleaner toxic to them? It drives me nuts, and it’s ripping out my heart. I have the big cats, but this was Juju’s first litter after her mama Bella died and to get a doppleganger of Bella…I’m so scared I am gonna lose Arsenic. And I am one more trauma away from cracking my lids.

Which was maybe why last night when the old FWB called I told him to come on over, Spook was gone and all. What I learned is…my sex drive is MIA due to all the fucking meds and it seems like more work than pleasure. I also know I prefer sleeping alone, I don’t like waking up to another in my space, and I all but opened the door and gave a push out. I feel rude and monstrous but this is who I am. Maybe one day it will change.Just seems it always ends up at this point. I LIKE being alone, it’s not more complex than that. And I’m pretty resentful of all the societal and psychological propaganda that basically says anyone not in a relationship from age 20 is some sort of freak.

Dear God, why won’t my heart stop racing…

I dropped Spook at mom’s yesterday right after my noon dose of Cymbalta, which of course, set off hypomania, and my mom said, “You’re drunk!” My whole life every time I have any manic behaviors, she jumps to the booze thing. Hardly. Though I can see why the hypomanic chattiness, flakiness, and all can mimic being drunk. I could be in the hospital on a morphine drip and her go to would be to accuse me of being drunk. Having alcoholics in her family really messed her up in the head. What cracks me up is the way she attacks me and my sis when we do have a few drinks, like we’re the evil incarnate. But sis’s hubby spends pretty much every day in a stoned stupor and that’s ok with mom. Fucked up woman. I am not looking forward to fetching the spawn since who knows what tirade momster will be on now. Probably berating me for not buying the kid a forty dollar pair of shoes with Elsa on them. Ass trashery.

I am hoping my kid isn’t sugared up and aggressive. My anxiety is so high, I can’t handle that shit. And lately she’s being bipolar-ing me. One minute it’s, “you hate me, you don’t want me around, you don’t love me.”So I will spontaneously go to her room, hug her, kiss her, and she’ll ask, “Why are you doing that?” WTF? I’m trying here, you mercurial little heathen. Makes me understand better how confusing my mood cycles are to others, but in her case, I pray to sacred pegacorns it’s personality or a phase and not the start of some imbalance.

No plans for the rest of the weekend. I gotta get caught up on cleaning but I am feeling so high strung yet low morale today it may just wait ti tomorrow. Or the next day. It was a taxing week what with the dish time, faking normal and stable, and the massive clusterfuck of fetching her from school. I think I’ve earned the meltdown into idleness.

I keep hearing “It will get better” but I am still waiting. Patience and faith are wearing pretty fucking thin.

 

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8 Responses to “Explain it to me, Lucifer”

  1. Oh my God, I am so sorry to hear about another kitten. My heart goes out to you and I pray that Arsenic stays well.
    I also do not understand how it is possible to wake up already in the throes of a panic attack. I have a tendency to wake up angry, which I also do not understand.
    Maybe we can introduce your mom to my mom and they can go off together and stop fucking with us?

  2. Oh nooo!!! Not another kitty baby!! I’m so sorry!! 😥

  3. Damnit. So sorry about your kittens. That’s awful.

  4. I’m so sorry about your little kittehs <\3. And for the love of God can I play whack-a-mom with yours?? I'm in a mood today. I have Monkey's birthday party in about an hour, I'm tired and slept 13 hours. Wtf? Yes, do nothing. You need a reboot/reset after dish week hell.

  5. Just Plain Ol' Vic Says:

    Anxiety….born of the mind. No reason needed. *sigh*

  6. It’s possible you’re having adrenalin rushes while you sleep (anxiety attacks that you don’t even know about ffs… Bastard disorder). When mine get bad, the shrink rapped solution tends to be meds to cause sleep deep enough for it not to happen.

    I’m very, very sorry to hear about your loss. Fuckit. I don’t know of anything better to say about it.

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