The Hellmouth Freezes Over

I wanted a break from the midwest gloom. So it snowed Saturday. Overnight, it dropped to 7 degrees, thus turning everything into an outdoor ice rink. Yay. I started the car yesterday in hopes of getting it defrosted but it wouldn’t stay running so I said fuck it. When I went to bed last night, I wore two shirts, two pairs of pants, and thick socks, set the alarm earlier than usual so I could get out there and warm the car and clear the windows in time to get spawn to school. The car wouldn’t stay running again, big shock. Couldn’t keep the windows cleared without running defrost for solid minutes. Damn thing died ten times just getting her to school. Roads were “cleared” and yet still sheets of ice. Blrrggg.

Moral of this one is, accept gloom cos it can get worse.

Least the storm gave me legit cause for staying in all day Sat and Sunday. I did nothing Saturday. After socializing Friday night, I felt like I’d been embalmed so I took Sat to recover. And it’s not even that socializing went badly (except for R being in a pissy mood and spending the night on the computer as if we weren’t even there). I just find the entire process exhausting, no matter if it’s a good time or a misery. That mental drain sent me into a depressive state of  “I have all these things that made me happy for all of five seconds and now it’s all pointless, life is pointless…”

What’s worse than being in that space is reading someone who has their pompoms out and is basically eschewing “grow up, life is tough for us all.” Not helpful. At all. I get it, be grateful for what you do have, live life instead of putting it on hold…If my brain would cooperate, that’d be a lovely life to live. Instead my brain keeps telling me it’s all inane and pointless and I am stuck in this rut that nothing I try will break…And instead of reading something supportive, I get pompoms. Fuck you, cheerleader bloggers. Don’t claim to understand mental illness then puke that sunshine “you can do it if you want it badly enough” vomit on me.

Now, before anyone gets their panties in a bunch…If this sort of thing helps you…Good for you, I support it a hundred percent. But for me, busting my ass, trying so damned hard…It’s just one more message telling me I can cure myself and by not doing so it’s just my weak personality not trumping depression. Kinda like that counselor telling me I was failing to regulate my emotions. Isn’t that the very definition of bipolar? What bothers you during a hypomanic irritable cycle would just roll off of you when manic?

I think this is the curse of bipolar/ borderline mimicking each other so closely. Even the professionals can no longer tell the difference (fuck you, douchebaggery simpleton manual) so everything is “personality”.

Sunday…well, I amazed myself by actually kicking into the gear. I did the dishes, washed and folded and put away ALL laundry. Had Spook scoop the litter boxes.  Got Spook bathed, her homework done, and read to her before putting her to bed. I could have done more but in my current state..getting that much done is miraculous for me. Especially because the sight of all the snow and that brief jaunt to try and get the car running chilled me to the bone. 13 degrees is “footed pajama and blankie fort” weather for me. I am a wuss.

Okay, I am done bitching. Well, everyone else calls it bitching. I call it venting. By spewing it on here, I don’t have to dwell on it in my mind all day.  On a final note, I had mega weird dreams last night…Zombie vampires trying to murder us all. And ya know the scariest parts? Some prom queen type needed a ride to her nail appointment. Then my parents made an appearance after the zombie vamp apocalypse, arguing as usual, and my dad tossed a box of glassware…

Not sure what underlying meaning it has but it proves…My family scares the fuck out of me even in my sleep.

Zombie vampires to battle was just fun.


10 Responses to “The Hellmouth Freezes Over”

  1. You got a shitload of stuff done on Sunday. Damn!

    I can’t do the positive thinking. I just can’t. It’s one more thing that makes me feel like a failure and I don’t need the extra pressure. I’m happy for the people who can change their thinking with something that simple, but I am not one of them.

    What kind of car do you have? Hubby was a mechanic for 30 years, he might be able to give you some thoughts.

    • 1988 Chevy Caprice. It only causes problems during winter, my dad thinks it’s a sticky choke but none of us know what to do about it. Some days I’d like to set the fucker on fire but that wouldn’t solve a thing 😉

      On Mon, Jan 11, 2016 at 10:20 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • Hubby just left for work, but I’ll ask him what he thinks. He’s ridiculously smart about that kind of stuff.

      • Ok, hubby says – If it’s a carbeurated motor it could be the choke. You would need a new one. If it’s fuel injected then it could be a bad ISC or IAC (Idle Air Control Motor or Idle Speed Control- they do the same thing but there are two different kinds depending on the car) – that would have to either be cleaned (if it’s just sticking because of the cold) or replaced (if it’s actually broken). Or in either case it could be as simple as a clogged fuel filter which are cheapish ($20) There is a possibility of having and ISC or IAC with a carburated motor as well.

  2. hot damn, a practical friend. My only suggestion is have a billionaire buy you a new one. When I’m one, I’m buying. But I have to buy another ticket, the last one didn’t get it. I think it’d be hilarious if you won the $1B lottery but I’d be a bit jealous I confess in advance. Love that they ran out of numbers for the jackpot amount. I have good plans for all that cash, if it starts flowing.

    Back to reality (oops, there goes gravity), congrats on all the stuff you got done. I want to stay home for a week, but alas, work and bills, and fortunately, or unfortunately, in spite of 8 degrees my car actually started. I’d rather yes than no. You definitely need a new car, I think 1988 is calling and asking for you to give that one back. Sucks that that’s the only option for now.
    my brain keeps telling me it’s all inane and pointless and I am stuck in this rut that nothing I try will break…And instead of reading something supportive, I get pompoms. Fuck you, cheerleader bloggers. Don’t claim to understand mental illness then puke that sunshine “you can do it if you want it badly enough” vomit on me.
    My brain tells me the same message, only I’m too far nagged and habituated to give up, so I keep hoping against hope that my circumstances will change, or somehow I’ll be able to change them. We’ll see. Anyway, I hope the best for you. If I win you that Chevy, won’t it just be old, even older than the old one? And, can I come to the car-b-cue?

    • LOOOVE the way you worked that Eminem lyric in there 😉

      Technically a 67 Impala would be older but I want a fully restored pristine one. Those old things will run forever if they are restored to mint and plus…they can’t be hacked so I end up having a car “accident” when I start my spork revolt 😉

      On Mon, Jan 11, 2016 at 12:03 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


    • As for the car-b-q…I’d much rather burn these baby buggy sized smart cars bit I fear they are too ugly even for fire to touch.

  3. crap, not sure what happened to my feeds. grrr. well I’m trying again today, that’s my theme for the day:
    the phoenix rises from its’ ashes,
    the shithead rises from his asses…
    wait. that’s not right… or is it?

    Fire might make some vehicular transportation devices cooler than without it.~DM

  4. Douchebaggery simpleton manual… love it!

  5. GAH! Positivy ~ I’M POSITIVE we WILL throat punch them fuckin sunshiny pompom cheerleading bitches!! HAHA BITCHES!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: