I’ve been toying with how I feel about this…this “feeling” on the inside that threatens my outsides.
I’ve not posted very frequently for two reasons:
1. I’ve been immersed in a project (182 hours worth and counting) that holds a special value of importance to me; and
2. I’m in the deepest depression I’ve been in since the last time I was taking medication to balance out my snafu’d brain chemicals.
They’re inter-related, in fact…if not for #1, #2 would be oh-so-very much worse.
In fact…truth be told, if it wasn’t for spaghetti for dinner tonight…I would have taken the keys to the van, probably shouted out unintelligible things to the family, and left.
How long? Who knows. For coffee. For dinner…*shrug* Didn’t care.
“Why so serious?”
I’m tired of battling gossip.
I’m tired of explaining to people that, yes, sometimes you must battle the gossip when the words spewed threaten: 1. your reputation and/or 2. your goals and aspirations.
I’m tired of people taking my ideas and making them their own. Hell, I’m tired of people (a very few, thankfully) taking my very illness and making it their own. Try wrapping your brain around THAT piece of suck…
I’m tired of my illness making me feel like a big bag of suck. And this is feeling better than I did a year ago.
I’m tired of dealing with the “alone” that I feel. When I consistently worked hard at growing a set of fortitude to be able to ask for assistance…and…
[enter crickets chirping, stage left]
And the kicker?
I cry every day. I’ve been having constant flashbacks of The Night.
I cannot watch the news without hearing how a woman’s been killed or raped or spoken to of being raped or written about of being sexually abused…
And I remember.
And it’s like the scar on my hand burns in Harry Potter twin-dom universes.
And I cry.
I should be calling in to the Ottawa Rape Crisis Centre to ask about their counselling care…and I can’t. I pick up the phone, I start to cry. I put it down.
I can’t talk to my husband about it, poor bastard…got the short end of the bat-shit crazy wife stick, he did. I can only share some of the allusions to my friends, but not what I see…what I remember…what I’m thinking…and it’s what I’m thinking that is shocking and bewildering.
Thing is…I simply don’t know why………and I feel like it’s slowly sucking the life out of me. Out of the very fibre of my essence.
I’ve made so many positive physical healing changes that I can account for in bloodwork and tape measure numbers…but my soul and my spirit are very, very ill.
I’ve also been experiencing a “spiritual breakdown”…concurrently, no less, to the soul-crushing whateverthefuckitis crack in my essence.
(holy shitballs…is my soul…like…the crack in Amy Pond’s wall?!?!)
People are mean, and it makes me sad.
Mothers shaming other mothers.
Ridicule for a person’s beliefs (when those beliefs don’t hurt anyone, at anytime, anywhere)
Health nuts shaming people’s food choices.
Hell, I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet because I’ve got…are you ready?…a Keurig. And I f\m/king use it. And I have a refillable K-cup.
BUT WAIT!! It’s plastic. Do NOT use plastic because that shit’ll give you cancer!!
I have a fucking autoimmune disease that is eating my heart and kidneys.
Your point, Dude, is moot.
I don’t think people ponder how their comments are perceived. And it’s shaming. And when it’s posted directly to other people, without tact and eloquence, it’s bullying.
I give up.
(no, I sure as shit won’t…)
But I’d like to.
How do I get to turn this frown upside down?
Address the important shit.
1. Call the Crisis Centre.
2. Self-care. Even if it means grabbing a goodgawddamnhamburger and NOT having spaghetti. And know that it’s totally okay.
3. Understand and know that the haters play the cards they wish they had. Understand that you are sure as shit entitled to play your own cards and call them the f\m/k out.
4. I’ve been posting pictures of myself that I particularly like, with captions of mantras that resonate with me. I do this not out of vanity (I think I look like an alien…true story…high forehead of freakish proportions…gawd!)…but because although posting epic memes is awesome…posting something directly relate-able to my own path and journey is KICKASS. And that would be…”Me.”
5. Keep on keepin’ on. Seriously. Shit still has to get done…but how I do it is a choice. Make myself a good one. Make myself the right one…for me. Even if that includes chugging back a Bailey’s and coffee made from a Keurig refillable plastic K-cup.
6. Colour!! I need to come up with some kind of Bat-signal geek thing for when I haz the needz for colour.
Tomorrow I will let you in on the purchase of wearable “Colour!!” and “Happy!!” from the Ottawa Geek Market…you will not be disappointed.
Thank you for listening…if, indeed, you made it through…I should make you a t-shirt…or give you a mug or something. xox