Dyeing To Ramble

Not much new here. The days here in Armpit, USA seem to blend together, the monotany broken only by random events and changes in routine. Someone passed a counterfeit $20 at the gas station here awhile back, then a couple weeks ago, someone bought a Lotto ticket and won a million bucks. Lucky them. Yesterday was fairly uneventful, the housework slowly being whittled down to just getting winter bedding clean and dry while the weather during the day is warm enough to line dry them. God knows I have no money to hit the laundromat. My kid had her little friend over and he started touching all my stuff and washing things, which I suppose is part of him being on the autism spectrum, but it still kind of creeped me out. I do not like people who just come in and make themselves at home. I especially hate people touching MY stuff. I mean, why does a 13 year old boy need to be in the bathroom going through my bloody make up? Or touching my rack of shoes? And he leaves trash everywhere, then apologizes, but keeps doing it. It tests my patience but then again, so does my own kid. Still, I guess my old school age related upbringing is showing because we were taught not to ‘make ourselves at home’ in others’ homes without explicit permission. The kids these days just come in like they own the place, all of Spook’s friends have done this. I know it’s a new generation and all that but simple respect and courtesy should never go out of ‘fashion’.

The one accomplishment I made yesterday that I feel good about is kind of banal and frivolous but for the first time in 4 months…I colored my hair. I had the color this whole time but I had no energy to do it even if every time I saw how white my roots had gotten I felt ashamed. So I finally got that done. From silver roots:

To deep red

I should have used a blonde dye first to lighten it out so the red shows more vibrant but at least the granny roots are gone for about 4 weeks. And because I inherited my father’s dark hair, I have been battling gray roots since I was 20 years old so that isn’t age related, it’s junk DNA.

Oh that first pic was from Halloween. Spook and I were Medusa twins. She is an adorable snake lady.

I spent about $5 last month on the supplies for our costumes. Two black headbands and three bags of rubber snakes. That made the headbands and I just hot glued snakes to shirts we already had. Spook changed her mind on what she wanted to be so many times I finally said fuck it, we’re Medusa twins.

I’ve been doing stuff here and there with the hot glue gun since I sorted things out around the house and got semi organized and ya know, found the glue gun and glue sticks. We got our kitchen table and chairs given to us second hand by the landlord’s son and over the last year, the cats shredded the padding on the chairs.

Over time at yard sales I picked up some fabric remnants and this is what I did with the chairs. I love black velvet.

It is far from Martha Stewart homemaker perfect but I like it, it looks better and more my style.

I did not sleep well, but then again, I went to bed at 8 p.m. and I guess my system just can’t take more than a couple hours of sleep at a time. I woke probably seven times. Maddening but at least I only hit snooze once. And with the time change, it was light out which made getting up a little less demoralizing. My kid came out of the gate at 6:55, talking a mile a minute. She doesn’t take a breath, she just talks, and I am so sensitive to sound, it really wears my nerves down.

So imagine how surprised I was to find someone else’s blog post about hypervigilance and how it includes acute sensitivity to even common sounds. Do check out Tessa’s blog
I don’t have fibromyalgia myself, but with bipolar, depression, and anxiety, all the symptoms listed (almost all) really explain the tense red alert state I am find myself in perpetually. A direct link to the article itself can be found here..

I am slowly starting to feel little bits of joy here and there, though I doubt I have been on the new antidepressant combo long enough to attribute it to that. Maybe I am feeling more in control of my situation with the house in order and the furnace working, Idk. But yesterday I put all the cat toys in a basket and next thing I knew, all three kittens and their mama had every toy strewn across the kitchen, playing like mad hatters and it made my laugh. Depression robs you of such simple meaningful things like smiles and a laugh here and there. It felt good to get that back, even if it was brief.

I am still feeling hopeless and pointless toward the evenings. Once upon a time, I came alive at night. It is killing me that I haven’t written in almost two years. Not long fiction, anyway. I know eventually the creative dam will break as it always does but waiting for that to happen is grueling. I feel like the well of creativity and ideas has just dried up and I’ve got nothing. It’s a painful joyless to state to find yourself in when your life’s blood has always been your creativity and ability to get lost in another world through your own writings. I need that back. Maybe now that I have a good shrink, my working Xanax dose back, and the house in order and the colder weather keeping people inside (including the obsessive compulsive lawn mowing habits I endured the last 7 months, geesh, these people need an intervention for their lawn fetishes)…Maybe creative sparks will come back. Eventually. The hardest part sometimes is just sitting down and staring at the blinking cursor, wondering where do I go from here. And occasionally just the forceful effort of making yourself write one sentence leads you into the story and sometimes…you want to smash the screen and throttle that taunting blinking cursor. Curse of being a writer. How I wish I’d been born with musical talent or the ability to draw. Writing is torturesome. Especially now that paper books are dying a slow death in the midst of ereaders and digital books and audibles. Ugh, such an affront to writers and readers who appreciate the feel of paper and vision of ink on the page.

According to my Grumpy Cat (R.I.P, girlie girl), today is ‘zero tasking day’. I promised my kid I wouldn’t make her do any chores. That does now absolve me, I have wet laundry I need to get out on the line. They are calling for snow Thursday so I need to get stuff clean and dry as quick as I can. Yesterday I did all the winter bedding, including all sheets, pillow cases, and comforters. It was anticlimactic, though, because I am using dollar laundry soap with zero lasting scent and I am out of scent beads so I didn’t even get the pleasure of fresh smelling laundry. You miss little things like that when you can’t afford them suddenly. Frivolous and silly perhaps but…I only pay a buck for the scent crystals and since the donor no longer works at Dollar Tree apparently, it is safe to go back there. Now I don’t have a dollar to spend to make our clothes smell laundered.

I also don’t have the money for an antifungal cream I need for a skin issue. Insurance won’t cover it because it is available over the counter but if you don’t have $4.99 to buy it, well, I am out of luck. So the issue will just get worse and then I will likely need an office visit and more expensive extensive treatment…Geesh, if I focus on this shit, I will go stark raving mad. My kid already has me sweating Christmas, asking for this and that and me not knowing if I will even have $20 to spend on her. I curse missing that Angel Tree deadline, but with no gas in the car, I couldn’t get there and no one was around to give me a ride so..

Okay, enough negativity. I won’t barf rainbows, but I’ve been staying on track lately with trying to see things in a less negative light and I’d like to keep to that. Until the depression dictates otherwise, and inevitably, it will. Long days in the middle of nowhere, too cold to go outside, no gas or money to get to town, and a kid constantly indoors griping about boredom the second the tablet dies…Oh, yes, there will be depression and I will get to wallow in the negativity.

For now…I will finish the final two episodes of the final season of Z Nation and get caught up on my regular shows and maybe that will keep me from obsessing too much about the financial situation. At least for this month, at least, all the bills are paid. Can’t afforda a box of Kleenex, but we will have shelter, heat, lights, car insurance,phone, net, water, and food.

I was reminded the other day how ungrateful I can be sometimes. A man approached me in the parking lot of a store and asked if I could spare a dollar so he could get something to eat. And I happened to have two ones on me so I gave them to him, knowing full well it might be a scam or whatever but…I watched him walk right over to a fast food place. Spook and I probably needed that two bucks but our bellies aren’t hungry so maybe he needed it more. Someone always has it worse. That’s what you gotta remember. And I do believe in karma. Helping others is never a bad thing. God knows Spook and I have had a lot of wonderful people help us over the years. Our gratitude is enormous.

I feel shitty that we keep ending up in the same broke situation because I am too unstable to hold a job (or even get someone to HIRE ME AT ALL) but I gotta focus on getting myself well and just keeping…keeping on. As the bracelet on my wrist is inscribed on the inside to always remind me…Keep fucking going.

Sometimes that’s all we’ve got.

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