Fuck My Brain

I was not much of an Alice in Chains fan (grunge is icky) but for some reason the song “Check My Brain” got stuck in my head. Except in my mind, the lyric has been changed to FUCK MY BRAIN. Because ya know, here it’s 3 a.m.and I am awake, yet again, in spite of max Xanax and THREE 15 mg Restoril. It’s chilly in here to boot, so I’d much rather be under the warm covers but noooo. The brain is doing it’s funnel cloud thing, stirring up all the chaotic thoughts.

Fuck. My. Brain.

Just a teehee from my “I can has Cheezburger?” email newsie thing I get every day.

dress cat

Cute kittehs are like, injections of cute and sweet, and a bit of a giggle, all in a picture.

Saturday sucked, as usual. After my mom snapping on me…My dad visited from out of the blue, cos a fucking heads up call would just be civilized. Then because I answer the door wearing my white lace sleep shorts and a tank top, he snarks, “You need to go get dressed.” I said I am dressed. He muttered, “If you say so.” Um…What’s your fucking problem, old man? The trailer was overly warm, I wanted to be cooled off. Not to mention if you show up without calling in spite of fifteen years of being told to call first…Pardon me if my skimpy shirt shows my nipples and my shorts show my cellulite. CALL FIRST YOU DICKBAG.He critiqued me on Spook’s bike tires being too low on air. Bitched about my steps falling apart, then launched into the duct work thing and oh,yeah, child support papers (yet he didn’t offer the cash to get the legal docs I need.)

Yeah, he sucks. My parents suck. Yeah, yeah, it could always be worse but with my mental state and being criticized so harshly for 42 years…They suck. They don’t hug me, say I love you, NEVER tell me they’re proud of how I stepped up as a single mom after the donor bailed. They’re kind of monsters.

Just sticks in my craw. I would have put on a long sweater had I known they were stopping by. But on weekends, in my own home, I think I have every goddamn right to dress how I want, even if it includes wearing saran wrap and a tin foil hat. CALL FIRST, OTHERWISE DON’T JUDGE MY WARDROBE, ASSCLOWN.

S0 while  I tried to shake it off (fuck you, Taylor Swift, that song may cheer others up but it makes me gag) and enjoy an old 80’s comedy with my kid..Because once she returned, laden with all these gifts mom and sis got her,then she started telling me how they took her out to eat, they bought her ice cream, they gave her this gift and that gift…I wish I had the money, I truly do. But my family damn well knows I don’t and were it any other family I’d say they were trying to be helpful buying her fun stuff but my family? My mom and sis have this “the more you spend on someone the more you love them”mentality. My dad and stepmom have this, “Well, we bought that car seat for Spook four years ago, what more do you want from us?”

Evil fucked up demoralizing family from hell. Sometimes I wish they’d hit me, just so I could hit them back in self defense and feel less stomped on. Talking to any of them is like reasoning with a feral wolf pack.

So after hearing how fabulous grandma and auntie are, I felt shitty and tried to lighten up, watched the movie with her, gave her popsicles, kept telling her how much I love her and I miss her and she is doing so much better at school…I hugged her kissed her, played tickle pickle and xerbert. Just the more she yapped at max volume the faster my calm serenity vanished. Noise. That’s my big trigger. My mom thinks I want my kid to be silent. No, I just want her to learn not to yell everything and to not fill every single moment with her own voice.

After the mom/dad “take a bite out of my ass” bit…I quickly felt a migraine coming on. I rode it out, fixed supper, which tasted like absolute shit to me as most food does these days. The migraine got to the point of nausea and wooziness so I let Spook into my bed, intending to just ride it out in the dark and quiet. It was 6 p.m. And I’ll be damned if she didn’t fall asleep, which means now I’m not just a shit mom, I am fucking with her circadian thing.

Once the migraine finally went away, leaving me feeling weak and bruised…I got up and had a shower. Tried to sleep. Tossed, turned. Sat up and smoked. Played some word poker. Tried to sleep again. Woke three or four times. That “jolting awake” thing as I start to nod off is nightly now and freaking me out. I don’t see why it happens. Sleep is my respite, I want sleep. No reason it should lead to jolts of terror that wake me.

I have goosebumps it’s so cold in here. I think it’s time to go back under the warm covers. Friday I was sweating my ass off. Fucking midwest weather. I am gonna try to do the Aldi thing today and kick ass on the housework. TRY being the key word. I still haven’t recovered from last week’s traumatic adventures in the dish.

Fuck my brain indeed.

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13 Responses to “Fuck My Brain”

  1. Do meds kill the tastebuds? Because somewhere along the way I lost my palette and now I wonder if the nuggets were truly bland or if maybe my taste buds are dead.

    Your family sounds like my English teacher who had much to critique and nothing to contribute. Since they’re family we can’t just ignore or get over it.

    What’s happening with child support? If you have his SS# you can toss that to DCF and hope they do their job well. Then again I don’t know how things change by state. Here it’s auto ‘look for missing asshole’ just by having child on Medicaid.

    I hate irresponsible fathers. Fuck them!!!

    • Health and human services told me four years ago if he was working he’d be paying. They’ve done nothing to get him to pay. Guess when you marry the jackhole, you have to go after them. Wish I could have that shit annulled as I was off my meds and preggo when I did that act of idiocy.

      Anyway…I filled all the paperwork out (18 pages) and included the legal doc copies they need, sealed it, and am gonna try to get it out this week. (I have to pay six bucks to mail all the damn stuff, assfuckery.) Then wait another four years.

      My family wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t all teetotalers. Family get togethers with flowing wine would be tolerable. But since they’re rabid about booze…Ugh, not enough Xanax makes them tolerable. And we’ve got the hellidays coming up!
      I am gonna pray for strep or projectile vomiting so I can avoid, avoid, avoid.

  2. Meds must alter taste sensation Nooo matter what/how/why what fuckin’ excuses professionals say/give. After all its a FACT (studies, etc,,,) Smoking fucks with taste & smell, chemo alters taste to the of nausea with its metallic taste. I know for a FACT Zoe, you & I just stated it screws with taste! FUCKERS. DON’T. LISTEN! we’re ill, not LIARS! Your family, seriously all I can say is HMMM,,, I’m not a big AIC fan either, but I like Somebody Check ,,, & a couple other songs. Grunge sucked/dsucks. Child support here sucks. My daughter gets I think $50/month, $50!!! Meanwhile she works her ass off (she has a donor dad too. Doesn’t see Jae or buy any clothes etc. (Used to buy clothes for 2-3 yrs than *pooff!* no more. I know it’s not the same as your bio family but I love you! We ❤ £0¥€ you, Sissy! {{{HUGS}}}

  3. I’m too pissed at the people in your life — family, R, donor, — to say anything remotely civil. But. What’s up with the heating? Did slumlord fix it? Is he going to? Forgive me if I missed the info. The days have been warm for us but that’s ending soon.

    • R estimates it’s going to cost about a grand, plus labor, to replace the insulation and fix the leaky duct work so heat comes up instead of under the place. I had to pitch a fit when my furnace went out last year, took four days to fix it, and the landlord fought the independent heating/air guys he contracts with when told the furnace’s main board had fried and needed replaced to the tune of $400.

      Unlikely the landlord will spring for anything, because as he said to my dad’s neighbor who used to work maintenance here, “These people have nowhere else to go, no one else will take them because of their bad credit, bad references, and criminal histories. Why should I fix anything?”

      Now I could call code enforcement…And they’d condemn my trailer because the floors are caving in, the wiring is iffy, and the heating thing…

      I am in a catch 22 from hell but considering I don’t have fifty cents left after bills and stuff…I can’t very well scrape two months’ advance to move to a new place.

      So I accept what I’ve got (even if I do bitch). Frankly, the house I grew up in wasn’t much better, it’s floors sagged, the heat didn’t go my bedroom, we had no bathroom sink, the ceiling tiles were all stained and crumbly and the wiring was haphazard at best. If I complained then, my parents would scream that at least I had a roof overhead and they were doing the best they could.

      Which is why I don’t get those people at all. I am doing the best I can. They’re senile or some shit. And my landlord is an ass but not wrong- I did have to come here because no one else will have me. But then, I won’t have anyone else, either, cos most rentals don’t allow pets. Living in the trailer hood with my cats is better than being cramped in a neat little apartment lonely without them.

      So footed jammies and snuggies all winter for us, I guess. 😉

      On Sun, Oct 25, 2015 at 8:58 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

      • Fuck fuck fuck. Are you SURE code enforcement will condemn your trailer? That motherfucker landlord. Just a question: his legal obligation to make sure heat is working is unambiguous, right?

      • Long as it kicks on and heat can be felt from the vent…He’s covered. He’s not required to replace insulation or ductwork. I’ve complained for 7 years cos it also affects my central air. Finally just got a window a/c cos he’s useless. Can’t use space heaters at all, blows the circuits to run even one small one, so the heat is trickier.

        And yeah, they’d condemn this whole trailer park if they saw how many code violations there are. So that’d be putting a lot of people and kids in the street, too.

        I need a xanax the size of a hubcap to accept what I cannot change.

        On Sun, Oct 25, 2015 at 3:06 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

  4. Children can be like jack hammers to the brain, my term is “Calm and patience” as i try to instill some slower pace between hits of verbal barrages or activity bursts, and I prefer short bursts of childcare as anything else drives my levels insane and it takes ages to recover mentally
    I think in Hell there is a level purely dedicated to childcare, no breaks, no rest and no escape for eternity!
    As for family, you got damn bad luck in that department and I’d go all “There there, poor you” but that might bring on another migraine, for us both!
    Nothing worse than crashing out after a tough week when the phone goes, the inevitable request for something that requires my precious time away from clock watching and surviving shifts
    Although saying that, my pub gets the brunt as like last week I was breaking into borderline manic\bat shit crazy laughter, but the landlady and landlord are pretty much immune to that shit and do good tea.. Thank goodness

  5. Hey, Zoe from Trash Diaries recommended your blog to me because I need to find more of a bipolar tribe, I’m very lonely in my illness. I am going to subscribe to yours and hope that you will check mine out as well.

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