Depressive Demon Are Doing Their Jumping Jack

Since I am not religious and my demon are psychological…they cannot be exorcised. But oh how they love to get their exercise. Jumping jacks, sit ups, pull ups, squat thrusts, sprints, long distance runs…And my fractured mind is their gym.

My kid has been at my dad’s for two days. I didn’t mind until the jackass who donated genetic material to assist in my creation called to inform me they’d be keeping her a second day because she is having fun and wants to stay. If it had been left at that…Me time isn’t awful. But nooo, he and his redneck pseudo wife started prattling on about how they did this with her and took her out to eat and bought her this and they took her here and oh, they bought her better clothes and had her haircut so it’s all even now. Then that idiot woman of dad’s was in the background prattling about how Spook is playing with toy barns and becoming a little redneck….(I’d be less offended to learn she’d aligned with satan.) One thing after the other with those fuckers, pointing out every thing I cannot give her, right down to not having a dog for her.

To say I hate them violently is an understatement. Much as I despise the donor and the other faction of my life family is no better…I do believe (in a testament to my depressive altered state) I’d rather she end up with her father than ANY of my fucked up family (except my sister but then my kid would become a stoner like her uncle in law so sorry, sis, no.) I am just so sick of being insulted and run down by these people. Least the donor has rights to Spook, whether I like it or not. His hatred of me while petty is at least half deserved and his pattern of hating everyone who wrongs him is own drama. For those who allegedly love me to make me think I should kill myself for my kid’s benefit??? These people are monsters and short of killing them, the only escape would be to move far far away. And oh, that takes money and the demons in my gym aren’t paying membership dues.

Day started out crappy. I haven’t written anything decent in days, it’s all gruel and I am blocked and the depression is just crippling..So in spite of how shitty I felt I attacked the mountain of garbage (not literal trash, just hoarder type stacks of various things) that had been in the kitchen for two years now. The more I sweat and worked and got shit done, the less tortured I felt about not being able to write and not being good enough for my kid even by my own ‘loved ones’ standards. And to my surprise, I kicked so much ass today. SO much. All laundry done, even pillows washed and fluff dried, hoarder mess stashed in the spare room instead of piled across the living room and kitchen. I cleaned the floors. I tossed out dozens of bags of stuff just to lift some of the weight from my plate.

Now I have to hope the holiday didn’t delay trash pick up tomorrow because I am pretty sure even slumlord is gonna have a problem with two full trash cans and a dozen bags piled out front. Oh, well.

I even managed a trip to Aldi for a couple of things.

I watched 9 episodes of The Originals.

I painted my nails and toe nails.

I tried to write. Tried to simply proof what was already written. TRIED but only 39 chapters and 7 weeks in and the wall has been hit.

Now my body aches from all the work I did but my brain has started to spin because tomorrow afternoon is my appt with the psych nurse. I am wishing on a thousand stars it’s not a case of her having to wait for the doctor to come back to town before I can get a fricking script. I need to start Cymbalta now before the depressive demons allow my batshit evil ass family to kill myself.

Last week my mom was carrying on about how she’s lost 22 pounds then she looked at me (because I am so no aware of my grotesque weight gain in spite of living on fricking water) and commented how ‘the meds must be making you bigger.” This after stepmonster and dad’s comments about my fat ass.

The only saving grace the last few days was an old friend with benefits surprised me with a visit from out of the blue and while I really don’t like sharing a bed and I am far too downtrodden with depression and self esteem issues to be truly…interested that way…It was needed. He didn’t insult me. He actually made me feel decent about myself, reminding me what monsters my family are and that I am beautiful the way I am. I know it was a booty call but it was what was needed at the time. Now he’s in the ether again and I can’t even play poor “I’ve been used” because only once my space was mine again did I breathe again.

I am that broken.

On a sad note, I had to bury another kitten today. Oreo. He only lived 4 weeks. His sister MyMichelle (yeah, after the G’N’R song) is doing okay, for now. I am fighting hard for these kittens with the meds and vitamins and shit. Maybe because my kid is better off without me, I am filled with so much self loathing for simply not murdering my family (ok, not that dramatic, just disowning them and shunning them)…The kitties are something I can try to help, to care for, to save and do battle for. Because right now, no one is battling for me. Some of the thoughts I’ve been having, I don’t even know I am fighting for myself right now.

Let us hope the psych nurse has 5 minutes to hear me out and will actually do something to help. Now, not when the doc returns two blood moons from now. I need help.

God knows all I get from my family is more reasons to let the depression kill me.

I’m just grateful the rebellious streak at least keeps me too pissed off to give an inch. They’ll get my kid over my festering dead corpse and they aren’t gonna be the ones to turn me into one. For all the “they mean well” bullshit…They are not worth it. They are evil in the worst way. The way that claims “we care about you” yet makes me feel more alone than I have even at my loneliest. Takes a gift of evil to make someone you claim to love feel more alone around you than when they are hiding in a closet sobbing with depressive agony.

Is it any wonder I cling to supernatural shows and books? The obvious monsters still have more humanity than that which I call family.

Ok, self pity and rant are exiting the building. Unfortunately a bunch of depressive demons are having a spin class in my head so time to do battle against them in an effort to sleep.

I worked my ass off today. I earned some rest.

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