Archive for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Difficulty: Level Brain Implosion

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 29, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Fangsgiving started out okay enough. I had to pry myself out of Fort Blankie, filled with dread of having to cook. And honestly, the hardest part of cooking my chicken and noodles is fighting to get the chicken out of its shrink wrapped packaging, which is gross and messy and removing the package of innards is nasty AF. All I wanted was another half hour of sleep and warm blankies…But I got caffeinated and plopped the chicken into some water to boil. It was all done by 11:30 a.m. which left me two hours to finish my show I was watching, put on clean clothes, and slap on some warpaint. Then off to town and my mom’s we went.

Things were fine at first. THEN my dad and stepmonster arrived. My kid wouldn’t put down the electronic device even while eating so I told her to put it away. She bulled but did it. But no, that wasn’t good enough for stepmonster, she had to start carrying on about “You listen to your mother, Spook, or I will stick you in a corner on your tippy toes for 15 minutes!” On and on she went when Spook had already put the damn thing down and was eating quietly even if tearing up and being pouty. So my sister gets all weirded out and said, “We’re supposed to be having a nice Thanksgiving meal, not fighting.” WTF? All I did was try to be a fucking parent. Not my fault stepmonster can’t ever butt the fuck out.

Then her and dad started in on my driving, telling me I don’t know how to use brakes, just the gas pedal, and I am like…where the fuck is this coming from? She didn’t say a bad word last week when I was adequate enough to haul her ass around. But the minute she is around my dad, she shows her two facedness and they start in on me over stupid fucking shit. They don’t pay my car insurance so how is it any of their fucking business? I am mindful to do complete stops, to keep my speed down, to use signals…Oh, AND I AM 46 YEARS OLD, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. They aren’t satisfied unless running someone down and that someone is usually me. My dad has never stopped treating me like some dumb 16 year old who just got her license. He’s big on the ‘grow up’ speeches but he is intent on never letting me grow up by shutting the fuck up about everything I do that isn’t up to his standards. And if my driving is so fucking bad, why have I not had any speeding or accident tickets in 20 plus years? And I further resent that my parents now get to play the ‘we’re in our seventies, we’re old and our health isn’t great, so we get to be dickbags’ card.

It was uneventful until I realized it was getting dark out and since I am semi night blind, I wanted to get home. At which point my nephew and his wife and my sister all tell Spook she can stay at their house one night, then the next night with my mom and sis…And none of them thought to think first that we didn’t bring any clothing changes with us, that’d put the child in the same clothes 4 straight days, for fuck’s sake. So I said no and world war 3 ensued. And the whole time, even knowing our precarious financial situation, said, “Well, let her stay, and we’ll drive over and get her some clean clothes tomorrow.” Nope, none of them could muster up that much intelligence because they are too busy. My kid went into bawling spiteful mode. My mom started in on me (when at first, she told Spook no to a sleepover, because they’d been up cooking all night and day!) and said, “Why won’t you let her stay? You’re always trying to get rid of her anyway.”


I let the kid spend maybe two nights a month with them. She is with me every over minute of the day, 24-7, when she is not at school. I may occasionally need a break, but I am NEVER trying to get rid of her. And the witch said it in front of my master manipulator child so she threw that one at me later on, “You really ARE trying to get rid of me!” Which demonstrates how none of them operate from a point of intelligence or logic. If I wanted to get rid of her, I’d have said yes without hesitation and not given a damn if she was stuck in dirty clothes for 4 days!!!!! I said she could stay Saturday night but by then Spook was off the rails with her bawling, sulking, then screaming fit.

So we got in the car and…a windshield wiper fell apart. On the driver side. I had only one working wiper on the passenger side and it was raining. I couldn’t figure for the life of me how to reattach the damn rubber piece and I was in no hurry to ask dad for help because EVERY time something breaks, he finds a way to make it my fault. I didn’t even touch the wipers, ever, so how could I break them???But again, my family does not operate from logic. So half blind and unable to see even the lines on the wet blackened road…I took a deep breath and set out toward home, terrified I was gonna wreck since every vestige of vision was fucked. And her sniveling in the backseat and alternating between cold shoulder and accusatory outbursts of hateful, “You ruined my Thanksgiving!”….

Yeah, it sucked. And no sooner than we got through the door, my brother called and asked me to go to their house and put the dogs out. Like, fucking hell. So we had to go do that and she continued her wrath. Then she went off on how I never do anything with her and all I do is watch TV (which is hilarious, her grandmother barely moves off her bed and watches TV 24-7 but grandma is cool). I offered to watch a show with her once we got settled in and she refused. The wrathful behavior continued for 2 hours.

I dared to text my sister about the whole debacle. And again, “Mom’s dementia is really awful, she is very mean to everyone these days.” She said she tried to explain it to mom and mom didn’t understand what she did wrong. Then finally she got it and told my sis she didn’t mean to hurt my feelings…But the woman couldn’t pick up a phone and tell ME that. Now when I drop Spook off I will probably get the ‘you’re too sensitive’ speech because for a woman with dementia who allegedly forgets everything…she does not forget, ever, being called on her own bullshit and taking the chance to spit more venom and turn it back on me. “It’s the dementia, dude.” My sister always says.

Great. The woman my dad dubbed ‘pit viper’ and ‘hateful mcnasty’ when she was in her 30s now has a legit medical reason to become even more vile and venom spewing.

BUT none of my mental issues count. They are not legit. Both parental factions SAY so.

I am so sick of the lack of logic, the two facedness, the back stabbing, the constant criticism and judgment-things they passed onto me and I have unknowingly kept doing from time to time…

One thing I have broken, however, is that I do not play their emotional mind fuck games where it’s bury it deeo down til you explode, go into denial, or just start screaming like a banshee.

I sent my daughter an email apologizing for disappointing her and explained how hurtful the day had been and next thing I know…she is calm, tells me she loves me to the moon and back, and begs my forgiveness.

At least I have managed to break ONE lousy parenting/family pattern of dysfunction.

I did not sleep well. I went to bed with make up still on so in the middle of the night I was up trying to flush mascara out of my eyeballs. That was painful. Then I couldn’t get back to sleep. Then I woke 3 or 4 times. I got up around 8 but I can’t get warm, at all, and it’s yet another wet gloomy day…with last night’s negativity still looming over my head…I feel pretty lousy about myself, my life, my family, and well, everything in general.

Yet these ignorant self absorbed people cannot figure out why I’ve spent the last 30 years keeping to myself, living by myself, and making the briefest of possible holiday appearances. They are oblivious to how toxic they are. I’m just stuck up, or a hermit, or some other bullshit they’ve dreamt up. Somehow it just can’t occur to them how nasty they all are to me. I love my sister, and she is cool to hang out with, but she’s always preferred her husband’s doper/biker friends to my company, and well, my brother is a 24 year old man child so…

I literally have not one family member I am truly close to. I really have always been on my own even with a family still around and alive.

The only way to get along with them is to stop being a parent to my child and let them take over and trample my feelings and be utterly submissive to their whims.

Which is never gonna happen.

And this is why I am always ‘joking’ that Spook and I would like to adopted by someone far from this state and we’d be live in housekeepers or whatever. There is nothing here for us. Nothing positive, anyway. I’m not running from something. I just want something to run toward.

So that was my shitty emotionally scarring Thanksgiving.

Hope others fared better than I did.

At least the food was good.

Though as I have always maintained, a good meal isn’t really worth a week of feeling like I got the shit kicked out of me by an angry mob.

The fuckers are just lucky I have a strong enough psyche to keep doing this shit year after year. But it is getting to the point where I am about to just send my kid there and stay home myself. Like depression and anxiety aren’t enough to keep me down and out, their abuse is overkill.

And I am in no way a masochist.


Posted in anxiety, depression, seasonal affective disorder with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 27, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

This week is Thanksgiving thus next week, December 3rd, is #Giving Tuesday. This is a time to be thankful for what we have, not necessarily monetary stuff. Even though my daughter and I are in a very dire financial situation due to the donor screwing us over on child support,again, (an on-line friend put money into our paypal account so I could refill my meds and buy toilet paper til next week, WE ❤ YOU, CAROL ANNE!)…I have been pondering how to ‘give back’ in whatever way I can. At this time, I have zero cash outside 24 cents in my wallet and $1.18 on my debit card so…

My contribution will be for Thanksgiving, as usual, buying and cooking chicken and noodles with what little is left on our food card. Idk why everyone from my mom to my sister’s husband’s friends go gaga when I bring noodles, I don’t do a bloody thing special, frozen noodles and a boiled chicken, but…people actually get disappointed if I don’t bring them so…It’s the only thing I can do. Maybe on #Giving Tuesday, I will offer to let my kid’s friend come hang out at our house thus giving his parents a break. It’s a little silly, I suppose, but I don’t even have gas in the car to go into town and like, volunteer at the pet shelter or soup kitchen. (Oh, and FYI, when you have even a misdemeanor theft charge on your record from nearly 20 years ago, even volunteer work often results in rejection, because ya know, much as society thumps its chest on ‘correction and rehabilitation’, they never truly believe anyone can change and become better versions of themselves minus prior bad acts.) And for anyone who thinks I am just making excuses, you are welcome to drive my ailing car on its low fuel and prove me wrong. If desire to help counted for anything, I would be considered a major benefactor.

So let’s do the thankful, first, and pardon me if it seems a little thin compared to my aggro issues but…it is what it is…


my daughter and I having a roof overhead, heat, electricity, water, and food in our bellies.
our cats, whose furry loving and purring make me feel like there’s light at the end of the very dark tunnel.
for my fucked up family who drives me insane, yet at least we have a place to go for holidays, which is more than so many people have.
our good physical health. We could be sick like so many others so this, too, is a gift to show gratitude for.
Good friends, IRL and on line, who help with a donation here and there and always offer their love, support, and encouragement. You guys are awesome and we love you.
My healthy, beautiful, smart, creative daughter. She drives me to lunacy but she has helped me become a less selfish, more grounded, and better person. I am grateful for her and to her.
My $450 car which is still running 18 months later, even if ailing at this time and wanting for fuel. It ain’t shiny or particularly pretty, but it has done us good and my dad bought it for us, so to car and donor dad, we are thankful.
our landlord. Who, unliked our prior landlord of 9 years who so often left us for weeks without heat during winter because he was too cheap to fix the furnace properly…Our current landlord fussed over the cost and it did take a week due to a part needed ordered from out of state, be he got it fixed and did not evict us, so we are grateful.
To R, for fixing our water heater free of charge not once, but twice. He is rude and thoughtless of our feelings, but when he is around, he’s pretty giving even if I have to grovel for that giving. Twenty plus years of friendship, bad blood, and we can still stomach each other. Big deal for me.
This laptop. A freebie from my days at R’s shop, 4 years later it is still going, even if the screen backlights are going out and the fan needs cleaned.
My nephew who installed Win 7 on this laptop and all the drivers and got it running 4 years ago.
My sister, who remains a badass metalhead like me, in spite of the forces around her draining the life and freedom out of her.
My mom, whose irresponsibility in making sure they can eat for the month goes out the window to buy my kid all the Christmas gifts I can never afford and am too responsible to throw caution to the wind to appease a fickle child.
Music. Even if my anxiety disorder dictates that it makes me panic…It has always been an oasis for me, anyway, when I am strong enough to cope with the anxiety it causes.
TV shows. Forensic Files, Unsolved Mysteries, True Blood, Buffy, Angel, E.R., et al…My fictional escape from the drudgery of depression and anxiety have been a calming blessing.
The on line friends who have moved on or passed, whose presence in my life, in whatever capacity, for however long, helped me survive some shitty stuff. Tyler, Becca, Kat/Kitty, Blah, Sass, Leslie, Andrew, Deon, Carol Anne, Patty, Kathy, Paul, Jason, Adrienne, Jennifer, and a few others whose blogs I read and they follow me but we’ve never really exchanged real names…YOU ARE ALL VERY IMPORTANT TO ME AND I LOVE YOU ALL IN MY OWN FUCKED UP WAY. If I have ever seemed ungrateful or bitchy or neflectful, you have my sincerest apologies. You’ve all made a huge difference in my life, as well as Spook’s and words defy the affection and gratitude we feel for each and every one of you.
Programs like SSDI, SSI, Food Stamps, Food pantries, Toys for Tots, Heat Assistance, Shop with a Cop, Angel Tree- for those of us in precarious situations and often at the mercy of cruel, flaky exes who contribute little to OUR children…The help is not merely viewed as a handout and we do not feel entitled. We are thankful for anything that helps us when we need it and this year…WE NEED ALL THE HELP WE CAN GET. And I truly am tired of saying it, but this is three years in a row the donor has quit/lost a job and left us high and dry on child support we desperately needed. I have high hopes that one day the help we receive, I will be able to pay forward.
My new telepsych doc, who has helped me more in 2 appointments than the NP did in a year. I won’t say the new combo has me wanting to live life to the fullest, but a return to the higher dose Xanax and the dual therapy as opposed to monotherapy, has helped considerably.
Kind people who understand not everyone chooses to be in a shitty financial/mental sitation and help out, even with a spirit lifting card, a thoughtful email, or a $5 deposit on paypal. You are who I wish I had the means to be because the kindness is in my heart, just not in my bank account. I ❤ you.


Meridian RX Insurance. I made a trip to town today to get my kid’s 20mg Metadate refilled and the insurance company refused OVER ONE FUCKING DAY EVEN THOUGH TOMORROW THE PHARMACY IS CLOSED. So my kid has to do without her meds cos one month had 31 days but the script is only for 30 and insurance won’t fucking cooperate. YOU SUCK, MERIDIAN! And IL state, too, for all their constrictive laws on ADHD meds and forcing kid care into an HMO hellish ordeal. If the doctor’s records indicate a refill is needed and they sign off on it, that should trump a bloody ass trash insurance company.
The fact that we had 70 mph winds last night and I woke up in the middle, unable to turn off my panic and paranoia because the wind was whipping so hard the windows were rattling in their frames. BUT I thought it was midnight and I had plenty of time to get back to sleep only to later realize…The phone says it’s 4:30 a.m. which means my alarm clock bedside lost power briefly and reset at 12:00 so I have two less hours to get some fucking sleep.
My brain for refusing to get to sleep, even with melatonin, until after the 6:30 a.m. alarm went off. Then I hit snooze four times and managed to nap in those increments, only to have to PRY myself awake and bellow for my child to get up cos I had no energy to move.
ME, for going back to sleep after my kid went to school, even if I truly was due the extra sleep. My plan for the day was to head to town by 9 a.m. Instead, I didn’t wake up and leave until 11, by which time I was mentally flogging myself for being so weak as to need more sleep.
Our kitten Ember, who for some reason, peed on my blanket. When you have no dryer and can’t hang things out to dry and no money for a laundromat…Dirty laundry, especially big heavy blankets, become an ordeal.
Public Aid, who is in no hurry to raise our food benefits, even though we have gone 5 weeks without a dime of child support. Kids can’t just skip eating, and I can’t just skip paying rent to buy food while red tape is processing. Frugal as I am, evem I can’t feed two people, especially a never full kid, on $150 for six weeks.
Rarely ever feeling warm enough, even under two covers or two layers of clothing. Whatever is wrong with my body’s thermostat needs to be FIXED.
Wind chafed lips. I have something going on with my mouth that signifies too much drool and wind exposure so my lips are red and chafed and I look like an infectious monkey. HATE.
My attention span, or lack of it, which hinders my ability to focus on functioning, let alone enjoying life.
The doctors who confuse me by saying yes you are A.D>D and need Focalin, then those who say no, artifact of bipolar, and oh, the ass trash insurance comapny that won’t cover the medication at all even if it makes me more functional and more productive.
Living in Armpit where the only businesses are a grain elevator and a minimart. Where the minimart only sells toilet paper by the roll and it costs $2.39 for ONE roll of T.P.
Living in Armpit, period. If gas was 99 cents a gallon circa 1989, I’d likely not have an issue. But nearly $3.00 a gallon and I need a gallon and a half for every trip to town where you can get anything, especially affordable things…It makes me feel isolated and not in a good way.
My desktop computer that keeled over even though I had it less than 6 months and barely used it. I NEED TO TO FUCKING WRITE AND I NEED MY DESKTOP TO DO IT, TRAITOR!
Myself-for not having the inner peace to write outside a desktop computer. But how many laptops have to be fried from overheating because my writing jags can last 18 hours? How about a laptop with a battery that lasts longer than 90 minutes and has enough fans to avoid overheating? Oh, right. That costs MONEY. But then again, the business model is to make them flimsy as possible so people have no choice but to replace them with a new model every couple of years. Ass trash.
Family who lives to insult and run me down, all the while wearing a smile and going, why do not want to hang with us?
Two faced people. Like my stepmonster offering me toilet paper, but then my dad is there and she says, ‘ask your daddy’ and he says, dead serious, ‘here, use this newspaper, was good enough when I was a kid.’ WTF, bitch? You brag that you wear the pants in the family then tell us to be submissive to our ‘daddy’ full well knowing he will say something negative…Two. Faced.
Myself. For not having the fortitude to stay awake the last few days and get housework done so that it is heading back to biohazard zone after how hard I worked to make it decent.
Myself. For having a sadistic conscience that cuts me zero slack no matter how awful I feel. I beat myself up so much, I may as well be a punching bag.
Society. For the newfound ‘victimhood’ tag that pretty much invalidates any emotion one might have as some sort of pansy snowflake weakness of character. I keep blogging but I am ever mindful of all the ‘snowflake’ and ‘victimhood’ bullshit that saturates the internet.
Social media. Once upon a time, the internet was a semi safe space if all you wanted was to type your feelings and be amongst people who would understand and empathize with your words. It felt mature, it felt legit, it felt…wonderful. Then came Facebook and Twitter and now…the internet has become an ugly, hostile, name calling junior high school. I opt to stick my mental health blog clique as opposed to joining any social media site where I would likely become a target from trolls. I am not saying trolls didn’t exist 15 years ago. I am just saying that even when the ‘leader of the free world’ is Tweeting 20 times a day and posting pics of his head pasted onto a muscle laden movie star chest while insulting anyone who dares to disagree with anything he says…HELLO, JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL????
Mental health issues. I didn’t ask for this and I am tired of people acting as if it’s a choice I made to inconvenience them.
The term ‘behavioral health’ that has replace mental health in the medical community. It invalidates any sort of thought disorder, making even schizophrenia come off as ‘bad behavior’. It is a disservice to patients and professionals alike and I’d like to Z Whack whatever fuckhead coined the term and managed to transform an entire field to a different terminology that is a falsehood. Hey, I wanna rename brain surgery, “zombie apocalypse preparedness surgery”, can I, oh, please, oh please? ASS TRASH!

I will leave it there because honestly I could go on forever about all that pisses me off. And I know, it’s my issue, it’s on me, I am my own worst enemy. Blah blah blah. But my only self edict in this blog has been to be true to myself and simply tell my truth…no matter how irrational, discombobulated, unfair, ridiculous, self involved, delusional, paranoid, vapid, redundant…

This is me. This is who I am.

And if you can’t make it through one of my long posts without an eye roll or a hard pass cos you just don’t have the time…IMAGINE HOW I FEEL HAVING TO LIVE THIS WAY.

You get to click a box to ignore, close, move on.

And honestly, I envy you.

But it is what it is and this is my fucked up sanity challenged personality disorder laden reality.

And ya know what?

I AM GRATEFUL THAT WORDPRESS AND THE POWER OF THE INTERNET ALLOW ME THE LUXURY OF VENTING ALL MY INSANE FEELINGS HERE TO SHARE WITH OTHERS. Then in a way, I do get to click an X and exit the page and go…somewhere else. Even if the mentality remains the same, at least I have purged and moved onto a different page.

It ain’t much but I will take what I can get.

I am needy. Not greedy.

Have A Laugh For Turkey Day

Posted in depression, humor with tags , , , , on November 22, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms