Things are kind of a mess right now, in case you can’t tell. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to write again, much less write “funny” or whatever it is a few nice people who “got me” used to say I did so well.
I could rename the blog “The Morbid Blog: Where Fun Happens Every Day!” but I have the feeling that the few of you who actually haven’t unsubscribed and actually open the emails and then read this and actually comment (freaks me out, thank you) would still come and support this. Whatever this is.
I didn’t get up til 11:15 AM this morning. My puppeh is in the kennel because I am supposed to go to a two day festivus thingy and it’s a big crowd and I didn’t want to have to worry about him being bored at home in his crate, etc. He is my angel, ya know?
So it’s raining too. Why rush out to a crowd in the rain? I don’t “care” much about things. Someone left the Gen Pop in the rain, and I don’t think that I can take it, ’cause it took so long to bake it …
I’m sitting here at noon having just awakened and trying a new pill for my ‘brain chemistry’, starting today. (Remember, I am nerd girl and don’t drink or do anything else like that and haven’t since I was in my late 20s.)
I thought of making a little list in case some who read don’t really get why I’ve “changed.” Why don’t I post about funny things? Gen Poop? I mean pop. Because I can’t right now. I start to, I have one-liners, but they mostly go to texts with the one friend in particular who has time to respond, and whom I can never thank enough, or they roll slowly over the felt in my head and drop into a hole. It’s that white ball. Thud. The one that’s not supposed to go into the hole.
Anyway it would take a super long time to list all the horrors to explain my ‘change’ and what I’ve been through, why it happened, who’s to blame (when parties get poorly planned), the horrible and apparently permanent and worsening life-destroying after effects that I can’t seem to get past because I’m not you. All that. How everything awful that could happen, did, and then piled on. Betrayal. Psychotic liars. Treated like shit and not speaking up. Yeah I’m a little angry now. And wake up crying. Which is totally normal of course.
I have no friends, no “support” system” as I’m told (a couple of very good friends — thankfully — but not in my area code — most unfortunately — and, I suspect, very tired of hearing my voice and reading my texts/emails). The past — even the immediate past and current events — are all like those skulls popping up in the pool in Poltergeist.
Non sequitur, must must share. The wisest man I know texted yesterday:
One resurrects the past when one doesn’t have a present or future. Let the new med define itself and we will define a good tomorrow. Keep the faith. I know it seems impossible right now, but it is your chemistry talking.
(FYI, I got a D in chemistry and I was an Honors student at a foo-foo prep school.)
So the Large Print Edition of What The Fuck Happened to Her amounts to years of subtle yet powerful severe emotional abuse and what with my being in that 99th percentile “we” discussed in the previous post, that isn’t good. Then the whole bag of styrofoam packing popcorn blew open and scattered across the highway in the Thelma & Louise desert scene, morphed into BONAFIDE PTSD, and now there is more assholery here (the escape place it took me so long to reach by clicking my heels together three times and crawling on my belly through sewage out of Shawshank), so that means … no sign of it stopping even in the new undisclosed location. It may have even become worse.
It’s not going to stop?
If you’re musically inclined, as I am, or used to be, and am trying very hard to get back into, this song sums up some of what I can save a few words trying to describe. Don’t take it LITERALLY for FUCK’S SAKE. But I’ve always loved the song. I can play it, too. In fact I look just like this woman. In my head.
This one is also a fave. Trivia! For people who ABIDE. Aimee sacrificed a toe — with green nail polish — in a certain favorite movie we quote a lot from around here. Or I do anyway, in my head and stuff.