Survival at what cost?

Friday night, 9-ish p.m., another week with the metastatic anxiety devouring me daily and a heaping helping of depressive anhedonia survived. The sunshine spewers would barf rainbows in my face. “See, you made it! You just tell yourself you can’t do it but when you really put your mind to it, you can!”

Yes.

At what cost?

I served no more than four hours in the dish today. I did fuck all at the shop but fetch lunch and do a bank deposit. I dropped my kid off at mom’s five mins after school let out. I went to two different stores for human food and cat food. Came home. Crashed and burned like I’d run a marathon. I swear even my bone marrow aches.

I did it, but now…I’ve got nothing left. Nothing left for myself. I watched my shows and stuff (irksome with Hulu’s incessant buffering) and nuked some lasagna which ended up sucking because for whatever reason, people have this idea that cottage cheese belongs in a lasagna and IT FUCKING DOES NOT. It throws off the flavor and the texture, and I swear last time I got it, it did not have cottage cheese aka curds of curdled cow boob juice up in it. Must everything be frustrating and disappointing? Like that does a thing to help recharge my overly taxed brain and body.

People laugh when you say that. How could you possibly be exhausted when you don’t do much of anything? Anxiety and bipolar depressions are the cancer of the mind, both of them metastatic, eating away until you’re a husk with a head full of “I wanna do…” but you’re too depleted to do a damn thing. Even when forcing yourself to go full tilt. It just makes it worse when you can’t meet that mark.

If we had a physical illness, we’d be encouraged to take it at a slower pace, rest up, recover, “you deserve an award for suffering from a legitimate illness I can see and the lab work can confirm”.

Mental illness? Yeah, right.

So my kid free night of “I wanna do…” is ending in me taking my sleep meds early and curling up in bed. I’m beaten down. I can’t even muster the energy to do something I would normally find enjoyable.

This is the price for functioning at a level I cannot keep up with.

So again, I ask…Survival, but at what cost?

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12 Responses to “Survival at what cost?”

  1. Was it cottage cheese or ricotta cheese in your lasagna? It makes a difference :p I’m not going to debate over cheeses 😉
    I’ve been in bed since 2. My legs and arms ACHE like I spent a day at the gym-which was 5 hours at the tire shop, waiting, waiting, WAITING! Ffs just get my shot done and gmtfooh!! I can’t be assed do make dinner for my heathens-thank god they are somewhat self sufficient.
    All of that at the cost of wanting to have lunch with monkey, getting meds and then picking her up-and instead I popped my meds and passed out for almost 3 hours.
    Mom got Monkey, DB got NSLM and the meds. Weirdly, he stayed and we watched some YouTube videos-wtf-and talked about how I’m NOT doing. I hope I can unass my bed to look for costumes for the kids tomorrow…I can’t even muster the energy to pray to the sacred pegacorn. That’s what it’s cost…

    • Ricotta is just as gross, my sister uses that.But this had cottage cheese, they hid in the ingredients as part of the sauce. I don’t even know what the fuck that is and it’s all about each person’s tastebuds. I just want the ick free option, tyvm, Stauffer’s.

      Ugh…Halloween is next weekend, I’m gonna be down a veg day before it starts. I love Halloween right up til that last actual night of when I realize all the hype amounts to…Fuck all. Least (courtesy of Fergus’ kindly master Andrew giving Spook the gift card), she gets to be Elsa for Halloween. Done already, one less thing for me to freak about.

      I am trying to adjust my attitude, see the bright side…But pfft, not fucking happening. Every time I buy the sunshine spewing shit, that bright side turns out to be the lights of the oncoming train about to smash into me.

      THERE IS NO SACRED PEGACORN TO PRAY TO!

      Until my next mood swing, anyway.

      On Fri, Oct 23, 2015 at 9:30 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

      • Ha! Maybe you should write an email to Stauffer’s 😉
        Andrew is pretty kindly isn’t he? Monkey wants to be some magna/anime character she saw on YouTube. Looks simple enough to buy-purple skirt, light purple tights, fishnets, black and white arm and neck warmers, black shirt, necklace. No idea what NSLM wants to be. I’m not and never have really been a big Halloween person. *Please don’t smack me with a rotting fish*
        I gave up trying to adjust my attitude for other people’s bright side. They can stay there in crazy town. I live in reality where there are shit days and no amount of perky pollies will help me see the sunshine glinting off their perfectly bleach white teeth. My bright side-I kept my kids alive. I call that a win.
        Well fuck who and/or what do I pray to tonight?! Meh-that’s too much work anyway

      • Maybe Fergus is available…uniponies are just as sacred as pegacorns, and less snotty.

        On Fri, Oct 23, 2015 at 9:48 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

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      • I’ve had Fergus all day to keep me from going bat shit…I think he needs a sass break.

      • Well, Blah’s dragon does breathe fire, so it’d be like brimstone and fire thus…sorta religious so prayer worthy…Just a thought, don’t forget the marshmallows to roast.

        On Fri, Oct 23, 2015 at 9:53 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

      • Good thoughts!
        Oh-and “at what cost” has Shinedown’s ‘Devour’ looping through my head. Quite appropriate.
        Did you know they make SMORES marshmallows now?! They’re rectangular and flat-perfect for smores and war easier to toast evenly all around. I am a marshmallow toasting expect!

  2. Your life sounds like it just keeps snowballing. I’ve got a friend like that; every once in a while (every 10 years) he manages to squeeze out enough money for a plane ticket to come see me for a visit. It’s kind of like rehab; my brother and I cook for him, and let him sleep in or rest on the sofa or whatever. Just recharge as much and as deeply as he can. Sounds like you need that.

  3. Being able to make people understand why I am always tired is not even worth it anymore. I never works, they never understand. I have created shortcuts for myself in my house duties. When I cook dinner I make a crapload and freeze it for the days when I just can’t deal.

    But the smallest things will set me into a tailspin. And no amount of a mantras helps that.

    Cottage cheese in lasagna? That is nasty

  4. Metastatic Mind Cancer, I’ve referred (MI) to it MANY times. Ill minds think alot alike! Love ricotta cheese, not cottage cheese (looks Gross!!) I’m so SPLAT! defeated! side note I now have a URI,,, blah blah blah, not whine whine whine (no wwammbulance needed, just leave me the FUCK alone world,,,)

  5. I am ready for Halloween. All I need is the gold glitter. This year I’m not dressing up as something dark, as I do all other years. Then it’s off to knock on doors and ask for candy from strangers!

    • I went as Pebbles Flinstone one year, complete with leopard dress and bone in the hair.Once I didn’t have a costume so I draped myself in foil and labeled myself a Hershey Kiss. I guess that was the last time I did anything not considered dark.
      Fuck ’em. I like dark, it cheers me up. And if that is wrong…well, duh, manic depression is the oxymoron I am living, makes sense it’d make me a walking oxymoron.

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