Posts Tagged ‘mental’

Fin

November 4, 2006

I had a lovely long rant all written out, ready to be posted, but after conversations with my boss and Dave, I changed my mind a bit. I’m still quite pissed about my treatment by a friend, but I’ve decided to assume that, similar to that song by Lonestar, it was just the crazy talking. I guess I just sit back and hope that instead of trying to handle it alone, professional help is sought. And if not, well, I’ve taken all the abuse I care to take, so count me out.

This bi-polar post brought to you by Crazytown

October 17, 2006

So many things bouncing around in my head, and instead of choosing one, I’m going to cram a few in here. I think we’ll get the bitchiness and nastiness over with first.

It’s very enjoyable to call up a friend to check up on them and have them call you a whore and hang up on you. I really wish my friends would do that more often, especially when I’m doing everything I can to help them out. Whatever. I’ve done my best, and maybe someday they’ll fucking figure that out.

Next up: The people who send you forwards about politics, religion, immigrants, gay people, all kinds of stuff without bothering to stop and think about how offended you may be by these e-mails. People, if you aren’t 100% sure what someone thinks about certain topics, don’t send that crap. Not everyone thinks all immigrants should get the hell out, not everyone thinks that giving gay people THE SAME RIGHTS that straight people have will make the world implode, not everyone wants to get that sappy drivel about the notecards filed in heaven, not everyone thinks that all Muslims are evil. Seriously, WTF?

On a more cheerful note, Tasha and Jeff were in town over the weekend for BGSU’s homecoming, and I got to spend most of my Saturday with them. So much fun! I didn’t make it up there in time to go to the BGNews tent, but that’s OK. Maybe next year. Anyway, the three of us had dinner at Easy Street and then Jeff & I went to Beckett’s to shoot pool while Tasha went back to the hotel to take a nap, leaving us without a car.

Not too far into things I took a step back away from the table after a shot and the heel on my left shoe broke. That sucks, of course, but the thing that really pissed me off was that I had bought the shoes less than three hours before! Luckily Dave was up that way watching football, so I called him and he came and took us to the mall so I could buy yet another pair of shoes. Then he dropped us back off at Beckett’s, and we waited for Tasha.

When Tasha got there we played some more pool, then we went to Downtown, which was a mistake because there were waaaaaaaaaay too many people there. We did run into our friend Bailey, but we still left after one drink and went to BW3 to eat again. Then we hung out in their hotel room for a little while, and I headed home. I know it doesn’t sound too exciting, but we laughed a lot and got to catch up, so it was a good time.

Oh, and Sunday I took the evil broken shoes back and they let me exchange them. I was going to get a different style, but I really liked the ones that broke, so I went with those again. I’ll just have to walk verrrrrrrry carefully and not take any steps backwards I guess.

Well, I must go vacuum up the pet dander and spray things down with allergen-reducing Febreze for allergy man, so I’m outta here.

Please, just tell me what to do

September 5, 2006

Because I am so afraid of doing the wrong thing, or not acting fast enough, or saying the one wrong thing that creates the horrible opposite outcome of what I’m reaching for. What if I’ve already said it? What if my phone call is made a day too late? Or even an hour? How would I live with that failure for the rest of my life? I’ve already been told that I can’t shoulder that responsibility, no matter the outcome, and I know logically that that is true, but how logical are we in a tragedy? For the love of Jebus, won’t somebody tell me what to do?

You know who you are

August 20, 2006

Confidential to the one who called me at 2 a.m.:

Your life is not ruined, and you will get through this, no matter how it turns out. I will help you, even though I’m far away.

On a roll

November 17, 2005

I was concerned that my three-day streak of wanting to sit in the bathroom and bawl my eyes out would end Wednesday, but I really shouldn’t have been concerned. I was ready to do that after being at work maybe two hours, which really isn’t a very good thing.

I don’t even want to talk about it, it disgusts me and upsets me so much, and I’m pretty sure that not many people would get it. I’m sure I’d just be pegged as being overly dramatic and having “poor me” syndrome.

It’s almost like a conspiracy to drive me completely over the edge. It’s almost like an extension of home. Yeah, chew on that for a while and see if you can figure it out. I bet some of you can.

Our new sixth editor that I absolutely adored (and still do of course, but:) left us and we’ve been four days without her and it already sucks even more than I remember it sucking before she was here. So Sarah, if you happen to read this, please, please please come back!

But, you know, it’s not just work that feeds the need for the fetal position.

Editor’s note: This was written last night, and while I’m still stressed out, I’m off today and feel a bit better. I’m going to do the purse meme in a bit to cheer myself up.

What a weirdo

August 29, 2005

Jen tagged me almost a month ago, so here you go:

Idiosyncrasy: A structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group. I’m supposed to list five of mine.

1. I have to count stairs when going up or coming down.

2. I have to check the alarm clock at least two times.

3. I have to check to make sure the doors are locked at least two times. (Sometimes 2 and three make me get out of bed.)

4. I go through phases of hobbies/activities. Sometimes all I want to do is read, sometimes it’s sewing, sometimes it’s crosswords, sometimes it’s making jewelry, sometimes it’s playing computer games. Sadly, it’s never cleaning.

5. I have to be doing something when I’m watching TV, like playing gameboy or doing a crossword. I generally can’t just sit and watch TV.

Maybe next time I’ll get around to the reunion recap.

A tale of two weeks

November 17, 2004

It’s amazing how different two weekends can be. One good, one bad. Let’s talk about the good one first.

Almost two weeks ago, Dave and I headed down to Athens to spend a few days with the little one (known to most as Kim). We took the dog to the kennel Thursday morning and then began our trek down south. Once in A-town, we checked into the Amerihost and then went to Casa (restaurant where Kim works) to find Kim. We decided to get some tasty pizza and hang out at her house before coming back into town for some adult Shel Silverstein night at Casa that Charles wanted to go to. We discovered that they live waaaaay out in the boonies on a very scary gravel road, but the house is neat. The Shel Silverstein thing would have been much better if we had been able to see and hear it, but that’s life I guess. Of course, maybe it wasn’t really any good at all, because Charles spent most of the time back in the office of Casa.

Friday, we all rolled out of bed early to have breakfast at the Village Bakery (or something like that). After breakfast, Kim and I went to this crazy bead store. There were so many different kinds of beads and such that I’m pretty sure I didn’t even see everything! I must go back!

Now, I had always figured that many people in Athens were, how shall I put it, a little hippie-esque, but the lady that owns this store takes the cake. Keep in mind, this was the Friday after Election Day, and I had heard a lot of political blathering in the weeks leading up to Election day, but … This lady was talking to another girl working there, and I heard them talking about the election and Issue 1 (state ban on gay marriage [rat bastards]). These two were absolutely shocked that the ban had passed. I was absolutely shocked that they were that stupid. Apparently, people in Athens live in a tiny little bubble. They have no idea what goes on in the rest of the state, and I’d hazard to guess the country, and have no idea what a bunch of smug, self-righteous, gay-bashing bastards populate Ohio. I was just floored.

The other thing that made me shake my head was that this lady “just couldn’t spiritually understand” how Kerry lost to Bush. I wanted to tell her that she must not have had her crystals and rocks aligned correctly, but I again bit my tongue. I mean, she was after all counting out my beads to figure out the bill.

So after the bead outing, we ended up back at the hotel where Kim and Dave napped, and then Kim went to work. Then Dave and I napped, and then we went to dinner and to Wal-Mart to buy Kim a flashlight. The house was cool, but they seriously need another outside light to shine on the driveway. Then we met Kim at Casa because she was finished. We ended up playing Scrabble at Casa during “Latin Dance Night,” which was so freaking loud that we couldn’t even hear each other when we were shouting in each other’s ears. Scrabble good, loud music bad.

So Saturday morning we again got up at the butt crack of dawn. Dave and I checked out, then headed to – you guessed it – Casa for breakfast. Kim had to work in the bar after that, so we hung out at the bar for a little while and then headed out for mom & dad’s. The visit was pretty good overall, despite our being shunned several times (not by Kim).

The highlight of Saturday was the keith urban concert that night. I have to say, KEITH URBAN FUCKING ROCKS MY WORLD!!! He is a fantastic performer, sings and plays the guitar like you wouldn’t believe, and really seems to love what he’s doing. My pictures didn’t come out at all, so I’m pretty pissed about that, but hey, at least we were at the concert. I’ll just throw a little plea out there to keith to please, please, please cut the smoke machine for at least one song, like maybe for “You’ll Think of Me,” so your adoring fans can get one good picture to remember the concert. But like I said, it was a great concert, and the music is starting to grow on Dave so I’m hoping we’ll go again next time he tours.

My bad weekend started last Thursday. I’d had a cold all week, so I was planning on just hanging around the house and resting, maybe doing some laundry. A couple of Dave’s friends wanted us to go up to BG to play pool, but I didn’t really want to so I told Dave to go and have fun. Later that night Dave called and told me that he’d run into a friend of mine, Jason Frost, who told him that a second friend who’s in the reserves, Jason Carmen, got called up to go to Iraq and was leaving Saturday and that they were having a going away party for him Friday night. To put it mildly I was pretty shocked.

After much crying and freaking out, I called to see if I could take Friday off from work, and then I sat around berating myself and feeling guilty for not have talked to Carmen in so long and wasting all that time we’ve all had to get together. You always take things for granted, you know?

So Friday Dave and I went to the party, and it was horrible. It was so great to see the guys, but it was so hard to just pretend to be happy and pretend like it was any other party. But I didn’t cry, although there were a lot of hugs given. And I had several drinks, so that’s pretty impressive, take it from me. We got home around 4:30 a.m. and I had a little bit of a headache, so I took an Aleve and went to bed. Not smart. I started puking around 5 and once that gate was open, it didn’t want to close.

I think that aside from the alcohol/Aleve mixture, the holding in of emotions just made me sick. That and all the snot from my cold/sinus problems. Those three things combined to keep me in bed until 5 p.m. Saturday, which totally sucked. So don’t do that.

Well, I again have a headache, so I’m going to go to bed.

*BURN UPDATE* It’s in love with keith urban.

Sick of it

February 11, 2004

As I stand in the line of the cafeteria of life, I look at my plate piled high with work casserole and financial casserole and say “That is so not what I ordered!” I take it back to the lunchlady of life and tell her she screwed up, to fix it but not to touch the personal dessert. She flips me off and piles more casserole on, but thankfully doesn’t take my dessert. Well guess what lunchlady? I’m not paying!

I am so sick of playing catch-up, hurry up and wait, and all the other oxymoronic games that borderline sane people have to play. I’m sick of playing Capable Woman, Responsible Girl, Tough Lady and all the other stupid roles I have. I’m sick of smiling sweetly when I want to yell and scream and lock myself in the bathroom and cry. Thank God for Dave.

*BURN UPDATE* It’s a damned ugly reminder of how stupid I am.

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