****This post may/will offend some and while I hate to lose followers…Truth is the truth and I will stand by it even if all alone and being tarred and feathered by the villagers with their torches***

Have you ever pondered what all is in your “trash” or “garbage”? Unless a celebrity, probably not, as they have to make sure they don’t indiscreetly toss their “miniature pony porn” dvds less the trash collector sell it to the Enquirer…

I occasionally ponder my trash. Expecting the trash guys to leave a note about how my cats poop too much or how many Mangoritas can one woman drink…This implies that I find myself important enough for anyone to give a damn, which would be narcissistic, yet I lack the self esteem to be narcissistic…Self centered, maybe, but definitely not a narcissist.

And it hit me the other day, at the gas station, exactly why I am so paranoid and it’s got nothing to do with being self centered. Because while being waited on, the manager/cashier kept yapping to a customer off to the side about how her niece had moved to a different state, yet called her and inquired about how her issue with her hurt knee was going. Cos one of her (the relocated niece’s) former coworkers saw fit to mention it, never mind patient confidentiality.


That is the problem with small towns. I knew it all along (kinda like when I was 17 and went on birth control and someone at the health department saw fit to mention it to someone who knew my mother). I am NOT paranoid. I am not making myself overly important. Just some “trash” is noteworthy more than other things you pitch. “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” No way is anyone gonna find my emptied cat boxes treasure but…Occasionally we do throw out something another might find…useful. Even if we find it inane and icky. Point being…

People. Suck.

So this post is based on the brain trash I have to contend with. All the misconceptions, the misinterpretations, the interpretations that are factual yet I’ve been socially  conditioned to give everyone BUT myself the benefit of the doubt. All the drama, intentional or not, the way you can’t be honest about how low you feel because people are only forgiving on physical illness…

Last night I skipped incoming calls even though I knew they were probably from Mrs. R, not the swine king himself. But my mood had crashed, my panxiety skyrocketed, and all I wanted was to be warm and feel safe. Socializing does neither for me. I WISH with everything I am that I had the nards to be honest. At the same time, I WISH with everything I am I could be honest without it resulting in pessimistic judgment.

Few would ever fault you for having the flu, a cold, being on life support.

But with mental illness…Even the kindest people can be…well, assholes.

It has taught me to deny and lie, which doesn’t make me feel good about myself, but then, nor does the truth.

It is such an utterly miserable catch 22 that I cringe when the phone rings. I don’t want to be rude, I don’t want to come off as anti social or disinterested…At the same time…If only I could feel safe saying, “Oh, man, I wish I could, but my mood is like the flu and I am afraid it’s contagious.” R sent this text about how they couldn’t get a hold of me “as usual” so I replied that I’d missed one call in two weeks…And he put it all on me as liking to troll others but not ballsy enough to be trolled. Well, if you inserted an emoti (fuck the term emoji, it’s gay in the bad way) so I’d know it’s meant humorously/sarcastically, I’d know. WTF. Shit totally ruined my evening, cos ya know, it’s what R does.Mrs R was understanding. He was…well, him.

Sooooo much brain trash today.

I intended to be this housekeeping whirlwind today (even venturing into the dish for cleaning supplies) and yet…I’ve done fuck all. I even tried to reward myself but that ain’t working, either. The truth is…I don’t want to be judged as a filthy pig and yet…No One has ever tried to help me even though I am screaming UNCLE!!!!!. So if your depression still enables you to be a good housekeeper who can sit on their pedestal and judge people like me who have sabretooth dustbunnies on every surface and the house smells like a dirty litter box no matter how clean you keep it…

Congratulations. You’re better than me, you are a saint, yet you do not earn the right to claim “clinical depression” because clinical depression doesn’t give a fuck if the home has hit a biohazard level most CDC workers wouldn’t touch fully suited and protected.  It is so fucking easy to judge (and reading blog posts tells me even my brethren do this) yet if you TRULY comprehend depression…You’d never ever in a gazillion years judge anyone so harshly if YOU were on the other side of the fence. And hey, I have been on the other side of the fence, judging people who lived in the boondocks without electricity or heat or warm water yet children lived there…And even DCF had been there and said the kids’ basic needs were being met, even if in a non traditional way…

So let us all not being judgey twonks, for the love of pegacorn kind. There IS a huge difference between “lazy” and “too depressed to even wear a bra in public.”

I am truly sick of my poor housekeeping being lumped in with drunks and addicts who don’t give a damn. I do give a damn. But if my brain worked properly, I’d be giving up smoking and using that money to go to concerts and rock out to the music I love more than my next breath. Depression. Does. Not. Give. A. Fuck. And anxiety disorder? Ha ha ha fucking ha. It’s the pseudo ebola of mental illness, convincing you are going to bleed out from every orifice and yet, you keep living even though you are too “sick” to even actually live.

As for this being some “I have no self esteem, please validate me because I am a self centered selfish witch” post…

NOPE. I do not buy this, at all.

I was kindly given a gift card for X-mas and ya know what? I spent half of it on my kid so she could have the “Frozen” bedding she so wanted but I couldn’t afford. I don’t even have a comforter on my bed for my 26 year old one is pretty much toast…But I put my kid first even if she will hate Frozen in a couple of months…

It’s not all about me. I put my kid to the forefront. She’s a kid who didn’t ask for any of this whereas I am a grownup who made the choice to make a child with an absolute poor excuse for a human being….

Maybe in a way the lingering depression is self punishment because all I ever wanted was for my child to feel loved, safe, and happy, and yet my screwed up psyche found an utterly vapid irresponsible donor of genetic material…Again, MY fault yet…

I never entered into it with false intentions or self serving purposes. My child is my heart, my love, my dream…Perhaps at times she pushes the “no gratitude thing” but I would still give up my last breath for her. She has a chance of having a life whereas I am just running the hamster wheel to nowhere.

If you mistake this for self pity, you are a moron.

I still feel on the outside looking in even with my own brethren, FYI. wordpress has connected me to sooo many who understand my plight and yet…THEY are  mentally healthy and stable enough to do the phone/text thing. I stand off to the side, looking in yet feeling so excluded even if I am used by some as *the only honest one*.

FYI, I am honest to a fault, even to the extent calling someone a douchebag. I don’t spare my own family so the notion I give others a “pass:” is laughable.

I AM on the outside, looking in.

Mainly because drama gives me panic attacks yet my “uber blunt* method of communication is simply that- THIS is how I feel, PERIOD DOT COM.

I will not take sides.

I will not indulge drama even to my own advantage.

I love each and every follower who has deemed my words worthy of “following”. If you actually read my words…Kudos to you further.

I have no delusions about being anything other than what I am.

Insignificant, occasionally witty with a sarcastic retort, and…Just plain old me.

If that makes you angry or causes you to shun me…

It’s within your rights.

Just as being true to myself and not “bowing down” for the sake of popularity is within my rights.

Love me, hate me, be apathetic…

Truth is…Life goes on no matter what we choose or want.

On a whole…we all are just *that* mundane and insignificant.

It is only in our own minds, and the minds/hearts of those who care for us,  where we become something “special”.



I can’t choose how any0ne feels about me.

I just know that I am putting myself out there, emotionally bare, and if that doesn’t earn some respect…

Those are not the kind of people I want in my corner.

It takes balls to be who you are without regard to consequences.

Any member of the sheeple can assimilate and please the masses.


Sheeople or people?




14 Responses to “BRAIN TRASH”

  1. This black sheep £0¥€$ ¥/\ baaaby!

  2. I stand with you to the end.

  3. I am that I am and who I am is me. I am right there with you. Love me or hate me, this is who I am. (OMFG my phone autocorrected my name to Asses grass) Sassafrass, The Feisty *aka* Shannon Rae

  4. I see you as a woman of integrity. So there.

  5. Sorry you guys are funny. Morgue I love you. ❤

  6. I have nothing but respect for you, Morgue. Never kidded myself that your situation was anything but crap. Small towns and small town talk are social illnesses. Fuck. And from everything I read, you ARE doing the absolute best you can with Spook and your entire situation. I cheer for you every time you tackle something. I understand every time you retreat to Fort Blankie. ❤

  7. OK, first….I hope hope hope that my post about the condition of my stepsons’ home did not make you feel as if I were judging you. Because I am not not not judging you. I am judging the mother, who would rather play the victim and does NOT have the issues you and I have.
    Your love for Spook is evident in every post. Yes, she may drive you nuts with the nonstop chatter, but she’s 6 and the job of a 6 year old is to test your parental limits. I think that your love for Spook cannot be questioned. And anyone who does, well, fuck ’em because they are obviously not paying attention.
    As far as being willing to text/call thing, well, I’m with you. I will pour my heart out here, but the thought of actually getting on the phone with someone kind of freaks me out. Even if it’s just a texting situation. Right now, I need this to be on my terms. It’s my therapy and I just don’t know if I could handle getting texts from someone who needs help when I’m feeling low (no matter how much I like them). (I still have yet to return a phone call from new year’s eve to a dear old friend because I just can’t deal right now)
    I love seeing you here and I respect the hell outta you for your honesty.

  8. Actually, it is SUPER common for narcissists to have little to no self-esteem; my shitbag mother is a prime example of this. Having said that, I don’t think you’re a narcissist in the fucking slightest, and I like you and your rawness. ❤

    And pfft, cleaning. God. We vaguely try to keep dishes and laundry done 'cause of kids, but otherwise… *snorts* Sometimes it happens.

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