Friday, January 18, 2008

Not That You Asked . . .

So I've been gone for a while, and believe me, you should be thankful. I am having another of those I HATE MYSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE moments (lasting, oh, the past 4 or 5 days) and I'm so sick of the constant negativity and whining and woe-is-me that I can't even believe someone hasn't smacked me yet.

Part of it is, I know, PMS, but some of it isn't - it's that freewheeling what the fuck am I doing malaise that just won't seem to quit. You'd think, after about 20 years of this, I'd be better at dealing with it (either the PMS or the malaise); instead, I just sink deeper into a funk and wonder why every single decision I've made is a bad one. I don't like feeling like this, and yet it's hard to move on from here when I hate even my fingernails (which don't grow like normal people's, oh no, they grow all outward and hard) and the stupid way people mispronounce things (IT IS NEVER ASSESSORIES, YOU STUPID FUCK! IT'S ACKSESSORIES! JESUS!).

The sucky thing is that my copay for therapy went up to 50%, which is 100% more than I can afford. So goodbye, nice and kinda helpful lady. I ended up going to the student services, to the nice and not-so-helpful lady. She was way out of her depth. I mean, new to the biz, and not dealing with crazy eating disorder girl, or the chick whose parents want her to be an engineer when all she wants is to major in theater, so in all, not ready to deal with wife, mother, student, extremely bent person whose neuroses are legion. Yes, we can deal with my panic attacks about driving on the freeway, but do you get that I HATE EVERYTHING and that kinda hampers my abilities????

The saddest part is trying to remember a time when I was happy. I kinda do. I mean, there are moments I remember - drinking and sleeping around and being crazy and dancing and looking like a fucking kick ass punk rock girl - some of those moments were a lot of fun. But I know I can't get that back. I mean, I could, but the very idea of heading out for a night of booze and casual sex is exhausting. Plus, I can't find my Doc Martens.

1 comment:

  1. Honey, I've been having "moments" like that since junior high. It sucks and you have my total sympathy.

    While I finally have a shrink that is smart and capable and all that, I still don't think there's much she can do for me in that area. It is what it is. People drive me crazy. I drive me crazy. I drive other people crazy. The whole thing makes me homicidal/depressed. "Freewheeling malaise" is exactly right.

    So, you know, I've got no decent assvice other than to hang in there like you were going to anyway. Maybe you can help not-so-helpful lady to pick off neuroses one at a time?


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