If This Blog Were A TV Show, It Would Be Canceled

So, yeah, tis that time of year again when all my favorite shows face renewal or cancellation and my brain is kind of wired like that. Criminal Minds is on the bubble as is Code Black, Sleepy Hollow is basically DOA…Why? Because people don’t bother to watch or can’t or stopped caring because the material stagnated for them. Which sucks for those of us who still are interested.

Makes me very grateful blogs are not reliant on viewership or reader participation. If they were, in spite of an alleged 775 followers, my average of 7 likes per post would mean cancellation. Sometimes I wonder if I only have 7 people who actually read this drivel. And ya know what? Good. I can appreciate 7 people as easily as 700. Just glad the lack of interest and participation don’t put me on the chopping block.

The monsoon season has made the depression return with cutthroat vengeance. I didn’t write for 3 days. I felt embalmed. Or is it embombed? Cos being drunk on the reality of how unstable your own mind is resembles alcohol drunkenness. I just cope best I can which means I basically sleepwalk through whatever I have to do. Friday and Saturday were errand days and I took my kid to the park during the brief window it wasn’t raining. Of course, to make up for not raining, it was so cold my fingers went numb within 20 minutes.

Not writing, after so many days writing, made me feel like I’d gotten a false start and it was gone again. Thankfully, last night, I forced myself to face the blinking cursor and stumbled around a lot before finding the right groove. I guess there is that plus. 16 pages yesterday, 15 so far today. Creativity is a cruel mistress, so fickle and sadistic. Leaves you high and dry. Feast or famine. No sense of balance, just extremes. Like bipolar itself.

Today was my kid’s first day back to school in 9 days. That might have contributed to being able to write. And I’ve also found some new music that inspires a bit, I Prevail. Kinda like them.

Still having a hard time getting up in the mornings. I thought the calendar stating spring is here was the flipping of the “seasonal” switch and everything would get easier. Nope. I am tied in so closely with the weather that the constant rain and gloom and cold have knocked my right back down. Getting back up gets harder and harder. I live in fear of the one day I say “fuck it” and don’t waste the energy getting back up.

I got more child support paperwork today and I am baffled as to why. I signed his request for modification back in January, the amount was modified. Then they started tossing in an added “lump sum” of $17 which I don’t understand. Now they want my information for another modification and other than a $2 cost of living raise from my disability…nothing has changed. And  all this has the food stamp amount floating from $134 to $143 to $145. HOW IS ANYONE SUPPOSED TO ACCURATELY REPORT INCOME WHEN YOU KEEP CHANGING IT AND DON’T EVEN SEND PAPERWORK FOR EACH CHANGE?

This shit sucks and I regret the day I even applied for support, just as I always knew I would. I have a hard time balancing things and the only way I survive is to keep as simple as possible. Otherwise my confused brain could get everything fucked up. Now it is all fucked up because of the goddamn system that everyone thinks works when in fact, it’s more clusterfucked than my idiotic brain.

I guess you’ve surmised I don’t do change.

It’s just like when R keeps going on about getting that new job and getting me a “decent” car. I’ve been through 3 cars in 2 years. I am DONE with the car bit. Change disorients me, which I cannot afford. I need stability. Just like when the donor was around with all his various work shifts and I was always flipping out because I NEED FUCKING STABILITY.

So I thought I was getting better, but it was just an 8 day respite. I’m back to nervous breakdown crazy now. The world can have its sadistic laugh.

Just don’t cancel this blog or I will be most likely to end up in a clocktower with a rifle.

Not really. I prefer handguns.

Okay, okay, state law says I can’t own guns due to the Nardil incident that nearly killed me in the psych hospital.

Thank pegacorn I can still buy a nail gun and get in that clocktower.

Like me, like the crazy.

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