condemned to walk the soil amongst all creatures wild and tame
Wednesday, March 5th, 2008 03:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erikaThe weird thing is that I actually feel better than I have in years, which is why these sudden full-fledged attacks of crazy take me so much by surprise.
I started off the year feeling like life sucked and marking the passage of time existed solely to mock me. Then I felt better for about a week. Then my sister pulled her stunt and I reacted like crazy person. Then I had a good 2 weeks of not-crazy. Then I got sick with what appeared to be a cold and then transmuted into angry sinus infection of doom. So while I was not actively spreading crazy, I was not well, either, so not fun times. I have a week of ... semi-OKness, and then, probably thanks to stress, I lose it.
I go nuts and, George Carlin has a good bit on this, so I'll quote it.
Anyway, so you all have my perfectionist and relentlessly methodical nature to thank for the fact that I didn't check. If I wanted to write individual apologies, I'd have about a billion to write for people who had the luck to read one of my many "you're awesome, I'm done" notes posted in various places for the worry I caused them.
Anyway. It comes down to I'm sorry & thank you for caring.
As to reasons... fuck. I'm not sure I had any, certainly not real ones.
Stressed out, I wanted to do something on Sunday, Chance wasn't into it, I forgot to take my medication, Iowa's weather was ass——blah blah blah——and Sunday night I decided to go through Chance's computer.
Yeah... I'm really not that trustworthy, people.
I found a log where he was venting, and it wasn't even bad, but I took it as bad as I possibly could. I'm a word twisting jealous cranky angry insecure fuckhead when I'm that depressed—waist deep in the crazy & sinking fast.
Somehow that turned into Monday, and not eating, not having eaten for at least 24 hours, obsessively dumping pill bottles into a bag and counting out servings of alcohol, password protecting my computer, head space totally fucked up and refusing to think about anything because I knew if I thought, I'd think better of what I was doing.
I feel much better in general, really, but I'm having trouble motivating myself to get that "feeling better" into actions that will help other people, i.e. Chance, to be in a better place. To do things like the dishes and stuff like that. Hell, if I could even borrow the car and get rid of the cans for recycling, he'd probably love it.
So on one hand I'm glad and looking forward to the future, on the other hand I worry that my lacking of doing supportive stuff now means that future me will also be shitty partner.
What it comes down to is that I have to stop SAYING I'm going to be supportive and start actually DOING shit that is supportive.
I keep trying to reassure Chance that I will not always be the crazy. I need to lay off that shit and just go with not being the crazy so he can see it for himself.
Maybe that will help with my rampaging insecurity. At the very least, I will likely have more $$ (need to get part time job) and cleaner house.
I hope, I think, I worry, I hope, I want, I try, I hope.
I started off the year feeling like life sucked and marking the passage of time existed solely to mock me. Then I felt better for about a week. Then my sister pulled her stunt and I reacted like crazy person. Then I had a good 2 weeks of not-crazy. Then I got sick with what appeared to be a cold and then transmuted into angry sinus infection of doom. So while I was not actively spreading crazy, I was not well, either, so not fun times. I have a week of ... semi-OKness, and then, probably thanks to stress, I lose it.
I go nuts and, George Carlin has a good bit on this, so I'll quote it.
"The planning alone [creates] all sorts of problems.[...] Suppose you're a writer? Seems to me, a writer would get so involved revising and polishing the note that he'd never get around to the suicide. He would cheer up just by writing a really good note. Then he'd turn it into a book proposal.
"Another problem for suicide people is the timing. Okay, Tuesday's out, gotta take Timmie to the circus; Wednesday's my colon cleansing; the play-offs start on Friday; my folks'll be here for the weekend. Hmmmm! The weekend . . ."
Anyway, so you all have my perfectionist and relentlessly methodical nature to thank for the fact that I didn't check. If I wanted to write individual apologies, I'd have about a billion to write for people who had the luck to read one of my many "you're awesome, I'm done" notes posted in various places for the worry I caused them.
Anyway. It comes down to I'm sorry & thank you for caring.
As to reasons... fuck. I'm not sure I had any, certainly not real ones.
Stressed out, I wanted to do something on Sunday, Chance wasn't into it, I forgot to take my medication, Iowa's weather was ass——blah blah blah——and Sunday night I decided to go through Chance's computer.
Yeah... I'm really not that trustworthy, people.
I found a log where he was venting, and it wasn't even bad, but I took it as bad as I possibly could. I'm a word twisting jealous cranky angry insecure fuckhead when I'm that depressed—waist deep in the crazy & sinking fast.
Somehow that turned into Monday, and not eating, not having eaten for at least 24 hours, obsessively dumping pill bottles into a bag and counting out servings of alcohol, password protecting my computer, head space totally fucked up and refusing to think about anything because I knew if I thought, I'd think better of what I was doing.
I feel much better in general, really, but I'm having trouble motivating myself to get that "feeling better" into actions that will help other people, i.e. Chance, to be in a better place. To do things like the dishes and stuff like that. Hell, if I could even borrow the car and get rid of the cans for recycling, he'd probably love it.
So on one hand I'm glad and looking forward to the future, on the other hand I worry that my lacking of doing supportive stuff now means that future me will also be shitty partner.
What it comes down to is that I have to stop SAYING I'm going to be supportive and start actually DOING shit that is supportive.
I keep trying to reassure Chance that I will not always be the crazy. I need to lay off that shit and just go with not being the crazy so he can see it for himself.
Maybe that will help with my rampaging insecurity. At the very least, I will likely have more $$ (need to get part time job) and cleaner house.
I hope, I think, I worry, I hope, I want, I try, I hope.
