New Year, Same Blankie Fort

If you’re looking for “new year’s resolutions”, a “better” attitude, or some sunshine spewage…RUN.

My kid spent New Year’s Eve with my mom, which left me home alone. Unless you count Mangoritas and a vigorous face bath given to me by Chaos. I didn’t mind much. “me” time that does not include the soundtrack of “mommy  mommy mommy mommy” is at a premium. Love being a mom, not big on the extroverted overly chatty noisy part of my kid’s personality. As one super sensitive to bright light, sunshine, phones, background noise, etc…It makes absolute sense that I’d find that aspect of her…trying.

I made it til 12:30 a.m. before I decided it was cold and I wanted warm blankies more than I wanted to “celebrate”. Hell, it was after midnight before it even occurred to me it was indeed New Year’s. Blah. BFD, same shit, different year.

As proven by today. I forgot to turn all my alarms off so I was wakened at 6:30 a.m, 7 a.m., 8 a.m. Sleeping in is at a premium, as well, so it’s super annoying to be wakened when I don’t have to be up early. GRR @myself. It took forever to actually drag myself out of bed. Drained, bankrupt, overdrawn. Tis the price for running around the dish yesterday. (Shrink appointment was meh, he is actually in favor of Lithium, so I am gonna start it Monday and then I will have to do the blood work thing Friday but…Something different needs to be done cos this hamster wheel of depression is not cool.)

The hellidays have mucked up my concept of days. Today felt like a Saturday, so I kept thinking tomorrow is Sunday. Disconcerting.

Then my dad called to inform me they were taking my kid for the entire weekend. Nice, no one informing me. That took my mood down significantly cos much as I like the occasional break…I miss her so much when she isn’t here. And I think it’s rude to “tell” me they are taking her rather than asking if we had plans or whatever. I think my family’s picture must be next to the word “rude” in the dictionary. Assclowns. Once I finally made peace with being alone some more and all the rest I can get and such…It was three hours of her saying don ‘t make me go, they’ll make me eat gross food…Followed by as long as they don’t make me eat gross food, I want to go. *Facepalm*.  Guess that’s how McMuggles perceive bipolar mood shifts. Like little annoying bratulas who can’t make up their mind.

Since she left I’ve spent hours trying to get warm. It’s not even that cold out today but I stood outside for ten minutes when they picked her up and it just settled into my bones. So I am wearing footed jammies with a long sleeve shirt but the blankie fort is nearby. Unfortunately it is less one blanket because earlier when I got back with Spook, Mr. Feet decided I was his territory thus peeing on me and the blanket. Fucker. No day is complete until you have literally been peed on, ya know.

I am just low today. Thus grumpy. Thus…This post. Tomorrow I will kick ass on the housework. Or so I tell myself. I am so damned defeated and overwhelmed, though, I know I will probably fail again. Maybe “epic fail” should be my next tattoo, which I will be able to afford in about 20 years.

It pisses me off how depression lies and leaves you with no self confidence yet trying to express your feelings makes you look like a whiner seeking pity. I don’t want pity. I want out of this grave in which I’ve been buried alive by depression.

And btw, sunshine spewers…I am on season eight of binge watching Scrubs cos I was willing to give the “stop watching all that dark crime stuff and try comedy, it will cheer you up” thing. FAIL. And the fact that Zach Braff has started looking almost doable wit the facial scruff (hate facial scruff) means I’ve about hit my quota. Bring back the dark stuff.

On a final note of being further disillusioned…I  explained to the doctor how I need to get my moods solidified cos of the court date being set for my shark week and all the spontaneous tear eruptions would not go well…And, kid you not, he said, “Well, you know, you could make the tears thing work for you in court.”

And honestly, I was just flabbergasted. I mean, his point is valid and yet…It’s not who I am. Besides, the donor would just use it as some excuse for “see what I had to live with” in his endless quest to avoid responsibility for his child…GAHHH. Am I alone in not wanting to amp up endless drama?

Oddly, the doctors turn against you in a heartbeat if they learn you’ve dramatized any of your symptoms. Yet they can encourage you to use waterworks from depression and hormones….

Baffled. Me. Just…Bucket of what the fuck.

I think I am done with Scrubs for the night. I don’t know what I am gonna do with myself. Apparently not lay down in my blankie fort as three cats have commandeered it and one of them is nursing on my new blanket my sister got me like it’s a momma cat.

Here’s to 2016 sucking slightly less than 2015.

If I say “sucking slightly less” I am giving room for improvement but not setting myself up for soul shattering disappointment.

Cautious optimism, as the counselor taught me.

Still keeping my spork sharpened and my shovel handy.

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6 Responses to “New Year, Same Blankie Fort”

  1. I just figured out one of my triggers. NOISE! I have always hated light and now noise is setting me off. The counselor at the hospital told me to wear earphones with some relaxing music on it. Hmmmmm.

  2. “Sucking slightly less” is my ONLY New Year’s resolution. May your spork stay ever sharpened! Still waiting on my Stab-O-Matic to arrive. No rush.

  3. I £0¥€ ¥/\ $i$$¥! So much I wanna comment, tell ya, etc (all cool/good, I just can’t do the brain to mouth conversion right now) I will get back to you tomorrow! Hugs, cigs & booze! Hang in there, love ya!

  4. All any of us can do is the best we can do. I have a similar resolution to make 2016 suck less than 2015. So far, it’s not off to a real good start. I may be rebuilding my own fort blankie in the not too distant future

  5. My yearly resolution ~> no resolutions, win-win realistic obtainable goal! Boofuckinyah!!

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