My Fellow Blogospherians…Don’t drink the Kool-Aid

*possibly triggering post, IDK*

As I was sitting here, dreading my trip into the dish today to serve as R’s monkey, er, friend, I recalled last night’s abrupt crash into depression. I took 45 mg of Restoril and 0.5 Xanax just to ensure sleep because I did not like the dark thought emerging.

Depression is like an evil cult leader. It robs us of our own beliefs, convinces us to adapt its beliefs, and far too often…It is screaming DRINK THE KOOL-AID AND THE MISERY ENDS!

I just wanna say…let’s all make an agreement to never ever let that evil cult leader depression win and let’s never ever drink that freakin’ Kool-Aid.

Yesterday even though I felt the depressive inertia.. I found myself doing little things around the house I’d wanted to do for a long time…I even cooked a meatloaf, did the dishes. The instant my kid comes home, though, all that energy dries up. And its not just the noise or demands or fits. It is because I can’t go to the bathroom without her standing outside the door. I can’t do dishes and she’s attached to my leg wanting to play with the bubbles. I go to my bedroom to get something and she’s asking what I am doing. The child literally cannot mind her own business and leave me be. So even when she is good, I don’t feel able to accomplish anything around the house without an interrogation.

In many ways, it is reminiscent of the way the donor would constantly badger me if my facial expressions changed or I got quiet or frustrated. “Are you okay? What did I do? Are you okay?” Ya know,by the dozenth time someone has poked you with a stick in spite of you assuring them you just need to ride out a mood swing or whatever…You get irate and pissy.

And it continues with my kid poking me with a stick constantly. Maybe everyone’s right, I can’t get along with anyone. I maintain if “anyone” would back off and let me be it would be very different.

I am not looking forward to going and being R’s “friend”. Which usually means he needs someone to watch the shop for ten minutes while he goes to pay some late bill or taxes or whatever.

But it’s more than that. He didn’t even text me until 11:30 last night. Who the fuck does that????? Of course, I am not gonna answer, jackass. In fact after he disrupted my sleeping pill induced trip to sleepyland, I started putting the phone in vibrate. Enough of this drunken calling whenever he pleases.

My sister called last night (at a decent hour) to let me know she bought me two pairs of pants, having noticed all mine have holes in them. And while I am grateful, I also feel utterly ashamed. I am the older sister, 43 years old, ffs, I should be in a position to buy my own clothes, my kid’s clothes. This fucking depression and anxiety have just turned me into this useless husk. I am starting to hear the Kool-Aid spewing depression telling me I am just a drain on everyone around me and I fucking hate it.

To top it all off..I had a nightmare about going to court. Being on the stand. But then it got delayed and it was held in a different county, the shit county where I grew up and was so tormented and the  donor took advantage of me being a basketcase….I was so relieved to wake up.

And wake up I did, four times, in spite of all those sleeping meds. Because apparently this is my norm now. I think I liked total insomnia better, least then I got shit done at night. Now I am too depressed to do fuck all.

Still…I won’t be drinking the Kool-Aid.

However, if there’s a Mangorita on hand…

 

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21 Responses to “My Fellow Blogospherians…Don’t drink the Kool-Aid”

  1. Argh….. Wish I could pipeline you some mangorita flavoured sleep.

    I can remember my mother complaining the same way about not being able to do anything without a small child joined at the hip…

    • I don’t mind taking her places (it takes longer) like stores or yard sales, I’m a mom, I wanted this.
      But seriously, when I can’t be in the bathroom for ten minutes at home…She’s six and a half, that’s pushing the “I’m just a kid” thing. She wasn’t this needy as a two year old.
      I blame my mother when she babysat. My mom is so needy she loves having someone attached to her at all times. One of the biggest issues with my mom has always been my independence. She must be doing cartwheels knowing she’s tainted my child with her neediness.

  2. I’m going to sprinkle tacks and thorns and shattered glass to give yo mama the hint that cartwheeling like that just ain’t nice.

  3. I’m seriously so low right now that I don’t have the energy to MAKE kool aid let alone drink it.

    Your family pisses me off. They just run around and do what they want and bash you around emotionally. I hate that for you

  4. Drinking the kool-aid – brilliant metaphor. Don’t drink it. Tell your lovely daughter that bathroom time (and mangorita time) is a person’s private time and she needs to respect that. Sit her down and give her a pen and paper and have her write down whatever’s urgent, or randomly in her head, for when you come out of the bathroom, and she can discuss with you after you wash your hands and come out. Everyone needs space. Tell her you need just a little. The only time I ever want anyone bugging me in the bathroom is when I yell b/c there’s no toilet paper. Otherwise, I need that six to eight minutes to my self. And if she wants to do something when you’re washing dishes, have her either wash or dry them. My kids run away almost screaming (as teenagers) when I suggest that.

    • She wants to do dishes so that wouldn’t be a deterrent…Maybe I should just threaten her with green vegetables like peas.
      Of course, then she’d cry abuse.
      Parenting kids is hard.
      When I was just a fur parent, I considered myself a success if I got the cats to use a litter box.

  5. I constantly badger my wife about “what’s wrong are you okay” etc. And I’m the crazy one! Maybe that’s just a man thing. That would drive a sane person up the wall. As for the kid. I’m sure you’re just venting. She fucking loves you. Any child worth its salt is a goddamn magnet. Just be thankful it’s not another person looking at you like you’re a fucker because you want to be.

    • Yes, I am venting. Still, when I am walking down the hall and stop, and her nose is planted against my ass cheek cos she is *that* attached…What’s weird is she spent three days out of town with her grandparents recently and didn’t even want to talk to me on the phone. So I am baffled by the smothering at home.
      Maybe I am so used to my own family’s indifference I don’t know how to handle being asked if I am okay. Not sure if I could handle it I wouldn’t be annoyed by tenth time even if I were pickled on Mangoritas.
      Men say women nag…Cuts both ways, dudes.

  6. I got the ready made Kool-Aid in the pouch,,,

  7. I love this! You know I’m gaga over sublime metaphors for the fuckshit that is our Bipolar. Parenting is hard as fuck. seriously. it looked so easy before i had kids

  8. I won’t say anything about the depression because I’m currently doing the Tony Robbins method for managing my emotions (yes the one from those ancient infomercials… those tapes are the only thing I inherited from my mother and I finally had the nerve to open them on Monday) so all my thoughts about emotion and bipolar have been turned upside-down and inside-out while I process all this new stuff but I’ll let you know if it works. Everything I thought I knew about bipolar is undergoing review based on the new information.
    Except that I agree we must avoid the Kool Aid at all costs. If we could get the cult leader to drink it whilst avoiding it ourselves, we could kill one bird with one stone.
    And your child is sounding remarkably like my husband at the moment LOL. I get so much done when he’s not here, then when I pick him up from school…. FLOOP. I just seem to lose momentum. Same when he’s not working or at weekends and school holidays. It’s been going on for years but I never noticed before. It’s like he sucks it out of my soul or something.

    • Ya know, every relationship I’ve been in I always found the men irritatingly under foot so I looked forward to them going to work or whatever. THEN I could breathe and get some shit done.
      Thank pegacorn it’s not just one more personality flaw on my part, you feel it too so it’s a thing.

      • Maybe it’s a generic man thing that I’m not aware of because now you mention it, when I was in a lesbian relationship it was the complete opposite, we both got things done, it was like there were two useful and committed people in one relationship. Oh well, can’t go backwards.

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