Flushing My Life…One Flush At A Time

Well I feel like I’m flushing my life down the toilet.  I think it’s because I’m so angry with my sister, and alienation doesn’t suit me.  I try to stay downstairs (if you’re a loser and you haven’t kept up with my blog, I live in the basement of my sister’s house, but she’s asked me to move out, because she “needs her space”, and while in a way that’s rational, in an irrational way I hate her for it, because I’m not well enough to work full time and support myself, so I’m panicking and looking for jobs that I don’t even know if I can sustain for more than a week..) – whew!  So!  I try to stay downstairs.  And I hate her.  And I get stoned every day at the end of the day.  And then I eat ALL THE FOOD.  It’s grand, believe me!

Tonight I feel especially turd-like because my niece, hateful sister’s daughter, my goddaughter, had a show choir concert, and I didn’t go.  Granted, I was working on Dr. Flaky’s voicemail report.  BUT I could have cut that short with some careful bullshit and gone.  It’s just that I’m enough of an asshole that I couldn’t force myself to go be with people, a whole big group of people, and play nice with my sister, and sit uncomfortably. even if it was the right thing to do.  It’s a sad fact that sometimes when the going gets rough, I wimp out.  I don’t do the right thing.

Speaking of not doing the right thing, as of today I *was* quitting pot!  Because I have had two interviews, count them, two, with some place that clearly has no judgment because they’ve talked to me twice (just kidding, they can’t see my bad behavior, I actually have a great resume).  So I thought, if I get a third interview, and maybe get hired, I have just enough time to quit pot and pass a drug test.  However!  I feel like shit about myself, so what did I do?  I took a double-dose.  Just to see what happens.  Hopefully I will just watch murder porn (The First 48 is the worst and the best) and fall asleep.  HOPEFULLY that’s all that happens.

So maybe I will get a job.  Maybe I will pass the drug test, that’s a challenge I don’t know if I’m up for.  But FUCK ME do I want to get out of here!!  And then there’s that maybe….maybe I will *keep* a job.  Oh I’m so full of worry and self-doubt, it’s a wonder I can even walk and talk.  I don’t know what’s going to happen.  Except I suspect my sister is going to kick me the fuck out at some point.  Jeeeeeesus take the wheel.  Take it ALL!  *Drops the mic*

 

My Poor Murdered Bike

My sister ran over my bike. It had fallen over in the garage and she didn’t see it.  “I think I ran over the back tire,” she says.  I go to look at it.  I don’t think the back tire should be curly.  Dammit!  I’m not happy.  But then again, the tires were already flat and the chain was off and jammed.  Already, the bike was a useless fixture in the garage.  How mad can I be?  I’m mad at myself because I hadn’t repaired it before now, and I’m  mad that I didn’t buy the hardware to hang it up when we first moved in here.  Now I went to look at my bike again, and it looks even WORSE!  The seat is all wonky and has smudge marks like maybe that got run over too!  Part of me wants to get really mad at my sister, and part of me wants to get really mad at me.  This is the perfect opportunity to have a ragefest!  Maybe the Abilify is smoothing me out, because I just can’t work myself into a rage.  All I can do is think “I have to take this fucker into the shop and evaluate my options.” Is it fixable?  If so, how much?  Can I afford it?

Although I’m not grateful for two flat tires, a curly wheel, a jammed chain and a wonky seat, I guess I am grateful for an even mood that just says “Deal with it.” This is new!  This is different!  Maybe I’m ready to make my own Abilify commercial!  I don’t know.  This is my Saturday wisdom. Take the good where you can find it. This is my good.  I’m not having a cow.  I’m dealing.  It’s ok.  And now I’m gonna go eat pizza.  Peach out!

Feeling Threatened

Ewwww I had an UGLY confrontation with my sister’s ex-husband this morning.  He is, in general, a very angry person, full of vitriol, and the world is out to get him.  Today, he got upset that his daughter wasn’t home when he came to pick up the two kids (we’d walked to the grocery store, innocently, I’d asked the kids numerous times if their Dad had called and they hadn’t heard from him.  We were gone about twenty minutes).  He blew up at me and said he just had to confront me for robbing him of his time with his kids because he always comes to pick them up at the same time and I should have known that and respected that.  When I respectfully disagreed, he really lost it.  I just walked away and closed the garage door on him as he yelled.  Then he had the gall to open the front door of our house as the kids got in the car, the house that he is not allowed to enter, the house that he had come into and had breakfast, and tried yelling at me again, and I lost it.  I told him to get the fuck out and slammed the door in his face and locked it, at which time I got called a psycho and a c-word.  You know HE didn’t say “c-word”.  Haha.  I would have laughed at that.  No.  It was gross and ugly and hostile.

I know.  Why do I have to tell the whole damn story?  Well, I’m traumatized.  I’m not used to such dramatic and ugly confrontations.  There was a time in my wayyyyyyyy back, that this kind of interaction was commonplace.  Now, I don’t allow this in my life.  And the fact that he shoved his dysfunction and ugliness into my life really has me troubled, and feeling violated.  I want to call the police and get an order of protection.  I want to buy a gun.  I want to keep him away from me.  I want to not be a victim, for sure.

I think I will call my therapist tomorrow, and see if I can see her sooner in the week.  As someone who has experienced domestic violence, this really pushes my buttons.  It makes me feel very much in danger.  I do think this person is capable of violence.  It’s hard for me to know where the lines are.  I need to feel safe again.  I quit smoking six months ago and I wanted to smoke SO BAD today!!  For me, smoking cigarettes is such a feeling medicator.  I just had to keep telling myself that a) Smoking will not make me safe, and b) I am done with that.  And I have to keep being done with that.

And done with violence.  Both verbal and physical.  I have to figure this out.  I must be protected.  Safety is job #1.  More to come…

I Hate My Anger

Update:  My mood is actually less stable, if that is possible.  I spent Friday night watching my niece and nephew, which makes me happier than a pig in slop to be with them.  We did quite a lot of jumping on the trampoline and my twelve year old nephew kept throwing a half-inflated exercise ball at his eight year old sister’s head.  I must have asked him ten times not to throw it at her head, because he was really smacking her.  The eleventh time, he smacked her in the face and hurt her, and I really lost it and yelled at him.  I cannot get the injured look on his face out of my mind.  He was scared and hurt and on the verge of tears.  I am just so sad and devastated that I hurt him like that.  I just pop off, zero to one hundred without a thought process in between.  It kills me.  It makes me want to hurt myself so bad, to think of hurting or scaring him with my loud yelling in his face.  I love my niece and nephew so much.  Of course I apologized and asked him if he would forgive me.  He said “I don’t know.”  He seemed to recover quickly and we went on to have more fun but I worry, what will he remember about me when it comes to his childhood?  Will he remember good times?  Or will he remember when I scared and hurt him?  Sometimes I really hate myself.  I can’t stop crying when I think about that look on his face.  So, unstable to unstable-er.  Signed, Debbie Downer