Monday, April 30, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
|Where the agony all began.|
|No, that's not Christmas paper...I have no idea what you're talking about.|
|Hey, that's why I picked yellow! It's the same color as his boot/lovey!|
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
- The ill-advised discontinuation of my sleeping pill lasted a whole two days. I was so exhausted by Monday night that I caved. I can't live on two or three hours a night like I used to. Sleep deprivation is a skill. You can't go from solid amounts of sleep to two hours a night. You've gotta build up to that level.
- I'm super excited about the current CDP exchange. I have some good ideas for my recipient, and I'm excited to go shopping.
- Speaking of CDPs, I owe a bunch of thank yous. I'm almost out of presents, so if you sent me something, please assume that I've opened it and liked it (I have yet to open a CDP I didn't like) and am very grateful for it. I'll personally thank you soon. Promise.
- I hear and read fairly often from women who say no mother ever regrets their decision to have a child. I know for a fact that is both statistically impossible and also untrue.
- I have a whole bunch of adult decisions I need to be making, and I don't wanna. Making adult decisions and being responsible for myself sucks.
- I got screwed out of an awesome toy storage thingy on craigslist today. I was displeased.
- I realized why no one can ever convince kids that being a grown up isn't totally awesome: Darwinism. What kid would want to give up naps, recess, summers off, and cartoons if they really knew what being an adult meant? So to perpetuate itself, our species' young have developed a brain part that doesn't let them see what adulthood entails beyond staying up as late as you want, eating whatever you want, and watching whatever you want TV.
- It's possible I'm a bit medicine-loopy right now. Let's all forget the previous bullet ever happened.
- Does anyone else ever think stoplights are conspiring against them? No? Just me, then, huh? Ok, moving on.
- I need to quit 16 and Pregnant. Not only do have major anxiety spikes during every labor and birth scene and minor random anxiety spikes any time after the birth, but these kids are so DUMB! I get so mad at their idiocy and refusal to believe that having a kid might actually be hard, and - GASP - all of the adults telling them so are RIGHT. Your mom is not out to get you, random pregnant teen. She is merely trying to get you to understand the full extent of the situation you're getting yourself into.
- Also, the girl last night who didn't buy Plan B after the condom broke because it was $50? BABIES COST WAY MORE THAN FIFTY BUCKS! Even the most teenagey of teenagers would know that, right? RIGHT? A simple cost-benefit analysis there would have saved her a whole lot of time and effort and interaction with the highest baby daddy I've ever seen on that show.
- We're getting a new dishwasher. Bosch and KitchenAid seem to the be most recommended brands so far, with Kenmore being a no-no. Anyone have suggestions or tips for dishwasher shopping?
- I finally finished my 101 things list. I'll post it soon.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Oh, look. I've got my angry eyes on again.
You know, I am so fed up with my mental health and mental healthcare. I was so irritated about all of it this afternoon that I decided I'm weaning myself off all my meds. All of them.
Luckily for anyone and everyone who has any contact with me - real or virtual - I got over that particular snit fairly quickly.
The thing I'm most annoyed with is my failure to get some sort of balance. Nothing seems to be working like it's supposed to. My depression gets a bit better, but my anxiety skyrockets. Nothing touches the anxiety, which is generally fairly low-level and manageable, though always present. But when it's not low-level and manageable, it's really not.
My psychiatrist - who I see because he's the one my therapist would choose for her own psychiatrist - is hard to read. I feel like nothing I say gets through to him, or that he thinks I'm making things up. My therapist (who always seems to be right) assures me that he's the best of the two or three good psychiatrists in the area, but I'm starting to doubt. The dude who's supposed to be fixing my crazy shouldn't be the one making me feel crazier, right?
I hate being out of control of my healthcare. I especially hate it when there seems to be no good reason for the way things are being done and no good explanation for why other things aren't being done.
I'm just sick of it. But I resisted the urge to flush my nightly handful of (approximately 11) pills down the toilet tonight. You'll thank me for that later.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
- A husband who does the dishes (and the other household chores he agreed to take on) and throws his dirty laundry down to the basement rather than leaving it in a pile beside his recliner.
- Mornings where neither child is contentious, cranky, crying, or uncooperative.
- A solid eight to 10 hours of sleep a night.
- A magic student loan fairy who flies by and erases all of my student loan debt and/or grants me a job that pays significantly more than my current one. (A massive raise at my current job would also be wholly acceptable.)
Friday, April 6, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
I have a new theory. (Brace yourselves; it's profound.) The state of a woman's purse directly correlates to the state of her personal life.
A couple of years ago, a peek into my purse would have revealed a wallet with all its cards in their places, cash organized by denomination, all facing the same direction; checkbooks with up-to-date registers; receipts organized and tucked away; some chapstick; my phone; and very little else floating around.
That same look into my purse these days would reveal something more like this: [er, uh, I'm not sure the picture will actually show up where it's supposed to...]
See the difference? When I was (mostly) in control of my life, I was also in control of my person. As my life spiraled out of control, my purse grew into more and more of a disaster.
Honestly, no matter how often I clean and organize my purse, it reverts to the above-pictured disaster in less than 24 hour. Sadly, it's telling of the chaos in my personal life.
But. I'm finally taking some major steps toward calming the life chaos. It's still going to be a long, looooong time before things totally settle down, but I've finally done a few things that will slow down the runaway train my life has become over the past two-ish years. And, if I'm really lucky, my big steps will also translate into a neater purse.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Tonight I am angry.
I'm angry about always being the scapegoat.
I'm angry that I'm always the one taking the blame for things that are not entirely my fault.
I'm angry that it's always - and only - my fault.
I'm angry at and about my body and my mind.
I'm angry my efforts never seem to matter.
I'm angry that I can't live up to my own expectations.
I'm angry. I am just.so.angry.
* By "angry" I mean, of course, that I logically should be angry - and I am angry in my brain - but I can't, you know, actually feel angry. Behold the miracle of modern psychiatric medicine!