After my birthday dinner, and the revelation that Bestie 2 has found a real job, I was a fuckin’ mess the next day. I talked to you that night, Poodle, about how everything went down and what I failed to even remember and bring up was their reaction when I finally told them I am essentially crazy again.
There was a lull in the convo and I figured I’d tell them then. I kinda assumed Bestie 1 may have known (Sensei maybe said something to her in passing). So, I couldn’t even get it all out without crying. So pathetic, there I am at the restaurant crying like a fucking baby. The part that, thinking back, upsets me even more is they didn’t offer any comfort or anything. I mean it was embarrassing as hell: me on one side them on the other me telling them I’m crazy and I do not even think they could look at me.
I told them pretty much everything I have shared with you; what I’ve been going through, and they had the same things to say that everyone, even you, Poodle, have to say. It’s just like I’m having the same conversations over and over and over. I went to bed, after you had validated my feeling/the situation over the phone and woke up in a state.
I’m miserably sick, and was miserably sick on my birthday and that only exacerbated (usage?) the matter. I woke up and its like everyday shit just hits me like a ton of bricks. I cried all day long. I was in such a state and was soooo close to jumping in the volcano. It was scary. I was by myself in the house everyone was gone but Sister 1, she was sleeping, and I was just hysterical. Thinking and thinking and thinking and crying non stop. I’m essentially at the fork in the road where I buck up and do shit or take the easy way out and jump in the volcano and the volcano option is the easy answer.
After waking up that morning, our convo the night before, the rehashing of shit in my head that day I came to the realization that I am alone. I swear to fucking god my entire closet just collapsed. Im back to freaking now.
I am soooo lol’ing at my life/situation right now. Here I am whining about how I have to make a decision to do or to volcano myself and how I came to the conclusion that I am alone and its my fault when boom closet collapses. Its 4am here. I was the only one up until the closet collapse. Right after I typed I was alone the closet collapses. So fucking weird. Mommy Dearest stumbles in and sees the rubble and says to have Uncle meth help me fix it later today. Yeah, like I’m just going to sit here with all my shit laying all over the place. I pull all my clothes off the rod, move everything out of the way, and go into the kitch and get a screw driver, screw/wall anchor thingy and fix my own fucking problem. How fuckin trippy is that. Its such a metaphor/allegory for what the fuck is going on. My life is clearly a collapsed closet and I’m the only one that can fix it; this I already knew and have known for sometime now. The thing is, I can fix a fucking closet in a hot minute but I cant fix my life.
I have gone completely bat shit mental right now. I’m reading shit into everything.
My x file tapes. My elephant bingo bag Big Mama gave me. My bag of b-day memories for my scrap book, all the art I made in high school. Pretty much a symbol of everything I was crying over in the day. I had made up my mind it was all such a fucking waste. So pathetic. I am crazy. I fixed my closet I just had to finish this. Im sitting here typing this while all my shit is still all over the fucking place.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Jagged Little Pills
I am now officially taking pills: generic xanax for depression/anxiety and a generic ambient to sleep. They are not working. I have been a fucking wreck. I go from 0 to 60 in a hot minute. If anyone even looks at me wrong – do not even test me.
I have cried more and went off over the smallest silliest things than I have ever before. I do not think it is a side effect from the meds. I say that because what I am experiencing now is not different from what I was going through pre-pills. It’s just that now it is more frequent. Like end of the rope/ reaching the bottom frequent.
Sensei and Bobba Fett know that I’m taking pills. When I talk about it I play things off in a joking and extreme self deprecating manor, so I doubt they realize or take it at face value when I tell them I am crazy – exactly how crazy I really am – but they just sort of laugh it off. Silly, Ashley, I play it off as a silly thing, or maybe they do know. Idk at this point anything for sure. I haven’t told bestie 1or2, and I don’t know if I will.
What I do know, is that I have fallen into that depressive cycle that if something goes wrong lets just add more to the pile. I quit my job. New management = bullshit and shit hrs that this 24 (soon to be 25yr old, cry for me) did not value at minimum wage. No matter how shitty the economy is, or scarce the jobs are, it was not worth it. Plus I did build up a little savings to pay my student loan bills. I pay my billzzzzz. Plus, I went back there today to get my last paycheck and my share of the tip money and surprise surprise no tip money (the new manager was stealing). And! The place looked like total shit: everything that was my responsibility like stocking shelves and cleaning looked like shit!
But, back to the pills: I don’t think they are working, I think I am worse off, and I have reached a point where I am not taking any shit from anyone. Shit - meaning any off handed remark or dig, that someone may mean as a joke, ohhh fuck no, we will have words. I don’t care anymore; I’m at the bottom and really have nothing left to loose or care about.
I have cried more and went off over the smallest silliest things than I have ever before. I do not think it is a side effect from the meds. I say that because what I am experiencing now is not different from what I was going through pre-pills. It’s just that now it is more frequent. Like end of the rope/ reaching the bottom frequent.
Sensei and Bobba Fett know that I’m taking pills. When I talk about it I play things off in a joking and extreme self deprecating manor, so I doubt they realize or take it at face value when I tell them I am crazy – exactly how crazy I really am – but they just sort of laugh it off. Silly, Ashley, I play it off as a silly thing, or maybe they do know. Idk at this point anything for sure. I haven’t told bestie 1or2, and I don’t know if I will.
What I do know, is that I have fallen into that depressive cycle that if something goes wrong lets just add more to the pile. I quit my job. New management = bullshit and shit hrs that this 24 (soon to be 25yr old, cry for me) did not value at minimum wage. No matter how shitty the economy is, or scarce the jobs are, it was not worth it. Plus I did build up a little savings to pay my student loan bills. I pay my billzzzzz. Plus, I went back there today to get my last paycheck and my share of the tip money and surprise surprise no tip money (the new manager was stealing). And! The place looked like total shit: everything that was my responsibility like stocking shelves and cleaning looked like shit!
But, back to the pills: I don’t think they are working, I think I am worse off, and I have reached a point where I am not taking any shit from anyone. Shit - meaning any off handed remark or dig, that someone may mean as a joke, ohhh fuck no, we will have words. I don’t care anymore; I’m at the bottom and really have nothing left to loose or care about.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Yeah, I like to talk a big game.
Changes have occurred, not the positive ones I had hoped or even the life altering ones that I need. No, my mood has not changed, but the process of dealing with this funk has.
I have been taking pills that my pizza place coworkers have been giving me. Looking back it is amazing I never became a stoner in hs or a crack head because I apparently never learned or had the chance to even practice the just say no speech.
At first, I just knew they were taking pills and they were happy, so I asked for one and got two; two fabulous pills of unknown origin that gave me a boost of motivation. The worry stopped and that part of myself that is always thinking about what I haven’t accomplished and how big of a loser I am quieted down – until the meds ran out.
I have changed because I feel that even when it was really bad years ago, I don’t think I would have just taken random pills from semi acquaintances just to – I don’t even know why.
Another thing is the pizza burns. I was reluctant to learn how to “use” (READ: move pizzas from the top to bottom) oven because I was afraid to get burned. Well, I did and I got burned and it hurt. I’m talking three in long burns on my forearms right around the area that Bestie1 and I put out incense on our arms in hs. The point is: it hurt – for like the first couple of seconds, but then the burn and the lingering sting took me back to when I used scrape my arm and the sting/burn of that. In a way it felt good. I have changed into a sick ass bitch.
I have been taking pills that my pizza place coworkers have been giving me. Looking back it is amazing I never became a stoner in hs or a crack head because I apparently never learned or had the chance to even practice the just say no speech.
At first, I just knew they were taking pills and they were happy, so I asked for one and got two; two fabulous pills of unknown origin that gave me a boost of motivation. The worry stopped and that part of myself that is always thinking about what I haven’t accomplished and how big of a loser I am quieted down – until the meds ran out.
I have changed because I feel that even when it was really bad years ago, I don’t think I would have just taken random pills from semi acquaintances just to – I don’t even know why.
Another thing is the pizza burns. I was reluctant to learn how to “use” (READ: move pizzas from the top to bottom) oven because I was afraid to get burned. Well, I did and I got burned and it hurt. I’m talking three in long burns on my forearms right around the area that Bestie1 and I put out incense on our arms in hs. The point is: it hurt – for like the first couple of seconds, but then the burn and the lingering sting took me back to when I used scrape my arm and the sting/burn of that. In a way it felt good. I have changed into a sick ass bitch.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Fuck Youuuuuuuu 2009
2009 sucked ass, so hopefully I can make 2010 awesome. For that matter, the entire next decade and after that and after that and after that. You get the idea. Ch-ch-changes are going to be made. Some good, really scary, and totally out there crazy things I am going to have to do to better myself.
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