I have the blues. Not the good kind of blues from my youth that comes with powered yellow cheese-like stuff and noodles but the stab yourself in the fucking eye kind of blues that comes when you are in your thirties and have suffered through them a time or three...The why can't I just lay here and to hell with the world blues. The who the fuck cares why are you so whiny blues. Yeah, I got the blues. And this time I even paid for them.
Yes, your eyes heard that correctly, I paid for the blues. How stupid am I? Well, how much time do you have? Let me explain. I decided after a horrible vacation and an lashing of misery on some innocent (or not so innocent) people that I perhaps needed some therapy. So, I made an appointment and wouldn't it know it has been rainbow and unicorns ever since?! Oh, wait, back to reality, I made an appointment and met this wonderful lady, who immediately put me at ease, like I wanted to crawl up in her lap and surround myself in her warmness, who after speaking to me for an hour said "Ummm, I don't think I am going to be able to help you, so I am going to refer you to another therapist". Knock my crazy ass over with a feather?! WTF are you kidding me?! You just asked me about my life story and now you say "Umm no thanks crazy bitch" and pass me on?! Well, deep breath, I didn't freak out too bad over this news and actually just laughed, as I thought well...shit. What now? Well, I was referred to another therapist who finally called me back and said "UMMM, you have an eating disorder and those are not my specialty, so I think I am going to send you to another therapist". I am like huh, when did I get an eating disorder and damn if I have one I am surely not very good at it. Binging, hell yeah, I got that shit down, but the rest of it, not so much. Have you seen me?! Hello...but back to the story, so after speaking with the lady and telling her, I want to have the lap-band but I am an emotional eater, could she please help me with that issue, that I feel like if I can get my emotional mess of a self straightened up, I won't have to eat till I am sick then "hello, new me". Well, she agreed to see me. I think I should have been more leery at the shaky start because three sessions later and now I am in a mess. And I think I am going to need more therapy to get over the therapy I have had. Shew!
My therapist, well, she is a nice lady. We live in a very rural, limited resource kind of area and as much as an asshole as it makes me sound, I think I am smarter than 99% of her patients and I am not totally sure I am not smarter than her. Yeah, I know, what an ass. If someone came into the ER and told me that, I would be cussing them for weeks. But, eh, I think it's true. Tony, however, thinks it is me. Which, boy is that ever helpful. I am already struggling and asking for help, then my therapist calls me, tells me, "You suck, the work you have done is not good enough" and Tony says, "yeah, she is probably correct". Oh yeah and the work that isn't good enough?! You all ready for this life changing bit?! Boxing up my mail and getting rid of some of the clutter in my house. No, I did not accomplish this. I didn't. If I could accomplish this I wouldn't be paying you $120 a session for you to tell me to clean my house, in fact, I would PAY a fucking maid $50 and keep the difference...Seriously! Mail and clutter the root of my problem? Really?! That is what makes me want to Thelma and Louise it daily? I think not. Now maybe, just maybe, she is on to something and could be on the next best-seller list, "Box up your mail and your life will follow" or some shit. Maybe this is life-changing advice I am blatantly ignoring but I have my doubts on this.
So, now what? Another snack? More naps? Deep breaths? No, no, not that, cleaning?! A fate worse than death for the dust bunnies. Well, no, not cleaning, hello. That would be progress and we don't believe in progress here.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Know me?
You say "what happened to the girl I married, I don't know you anymore."
What happened to the girl you married? Life happened to that girl. She grew up. She wasn't quite grown when she married. She was still a child at 19, full of dreams. Dreams of children running in the backyard, of backyard BBQ's and of everlasting love. Life made her realize that dreams are for suckers and she isn't a sucker anymore.
You didn't want children. She gave up that dream. You had no hopes, no aspirations to better yourself. She obtained her BSN. You wanted to stay in the AC, although the AC holds nothing. She stayed. You changed. She changed, too.
Life happens and things change. She has seen a lot in her time. People born into this world and people leaving this world and the aftershock of both. She has been the bearer of bad news, "I am sorry, this pregnancy wasn't meant to be" or "They didn't make it". Yet she still chooses to believe.
The past? Well, us, we seem to be stuck there. Fearful and hating but unable to affect a change. Why? Well, even a fool knows the past can't be changed. And instead of living for today, we both dread tomorrow. Thankless and full of hate and bitterness.
You, you say "you don't know me anymore" and well, dammit, all you have to do is ask.
What happened to the girl you married? Life happened to that girl. She grew up. She wasn't quite grown when she married. She was still a child at 19, full of dreams. Dreams of children running in the backyard, of backyard BBQ's and of everlasting love. Life made her realize that dreams are for suckers and she isn't a sucker anymore.
You didn't want children. She gave up that dream. You had no hopes, no aspirations to better yourself. She obtained her BSN. You wanted to stay in the AC, although the AC holds nothing. She stayed. You changed. She changed, too.
Life happens and things change. She has seen a lot in her time. People born into this world and people leaving this world and the aftershock of both. She has been the bearer of bad news, "I am sorry, this pregnancy wasn't meant to be" or "They didn't make it". Yet she still chooses to believe.
The past? Well, us, we seem to be stuck there. Fearful and hating but unable to affect a change. Why? Well, even a fool knows the past can't be changed. And instead of living for today, we both dread tomorrow. Thankless and full of hate and bitterness.
You, you say "you don't know me anymore" and well, dammit, all you have to do is ask.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
What in the heck in this lump in my throat?
Today has been a full of festive moods days to say the least. Festive moods?! Well, yeah, because festive moods sounds much better than I-want-to-strangle-my-spouse-mood. And it is not quite so umm, damming as evidence should I slip and strangle my spouse. Not that I would mind you...no...I wouldn't but if I did surely I wouldn't post it on the internet for the world to see! Right?! Right?!
What has my panties in a twist? Well, several things. As most of you know, my spouse is chronically ill. Meaning he is sick most of the freakin' time. Not his fault. Not his fault, boy this is so hard to remember at times. When he is puny and whining, when he is yelling and mean, when he is not sleeping and telling me endlessly about the news I have to tell myself, he is sick and it is not his fault. And it is a whole lot like my other most un-favorite saying "it could be worse". Fuck those sayings right in the goat-ass. Yeah, those sayings are true and sometimes they get me through the day but well, more often than not they just make me angrier.
Yeah, I realize things could be worse. They could, they always can be and at times, things will be worse but do you know how much that really helps me in the middle of a crisis?! None! Not one damn bit. Yeah, worse, well to hell with worse. To hell with you for telling me "it could be worse". I wouldn't tell you that because dammit to hell, it is worse and worse and than briefly good, then worse. Dramatic, always, true, you know it.
As for the his is sick and it is not his fault. Well, it is not his fault. I don't think that anyone (other than those weirdo's with Munchhausen disorder) would chose to be sick. There are days when he feels fine. His mood is good, his tummy doesn't hurt, his blood count is OK and he functions. But those days are few and far between here lately. When we first starting struggling with illness it was the whole finding the diagnosis, then finding the correct treatment and taking different medications and now, we are doing the whole thing again. Yes, I say we because it is a struggle that we go through together. He is my spouse, when he hurts, I am mad if I didn't cause the pain, when he vomits, I clean the mess, when he can't sleep, guess who isn't sleeping?! All joking aside, illness affects (or is it that damned effect?) the whole family unit. It is hard because sometimes, you just want to get up and do and not worry is this a sick day, or a good day. Are we going to make it through the day without any meltdowns, vomiting or other problems? It's hard on both of us. And it is harder not to be selfish and say "why". Why doesn't really help either because it just is, there is no why.
I struggle. I am human and have my own problems, like this huge lump in my throat that is all the bitterness and sadness that I feel (or acid-reflux from all the junk I have eaten to try and numb the pain). I make mistakes and say hateful things. I cry and I bitch and complain. I over-share then build walls to protect myself. I am fragile and I am sad.
So while I hate all this bullshit about "it could be worse" or "not his fault" and the occasional "why" it's true and dammit that really makes me mad.
What has my panties in a twist? Well, several things. As most of you know, my spouse is chronically ill. Meaning he is sick most of the freakin' time. Not his fault. Not his fault, boy this is so hard to remember at times. When he is puny and whining, when he is yelling and mean, when he is not sleeping and telling me endlessly about the news I have to tell myself, he is sick and it is not his fault. And it is a whole lot like my other most un-favorite saying "it could be worse". Fuck those sayings right in the goat-ass. Yeah, those sayings are true and sometimes they get me through the day but well, more often than not they just make me angrier.
Yeah, I realize things could be worse. They could, they always can be and at times, things will be worse but do you know how much that really helps me in the middle of a crisis?! None! Not one damn bit. Yeah, worse, well to hell with worse. To hell with you for telling me "it could be worse". I wouldn't tell you that because dammit to hell, it is worse and worse and than briefly good, then worse. Dramatic, always, true, you know it.
As for the his is sick and it is not his fault. Well, it is not his fault. I don't think that anyone (other than those weirdo's with Munchhausen disorder) would chose to be sick. There are days when he feels fine. His mood is good, his tummy doesn't hurt, his blood count is OK and he functions. But those days are few and far between here lately. When we first starting struggling with illness it was the whole finding the diagnosis, then finding the correct treatment and taking different medications and now, we are doing the whole thing again. Yes, I say we because it is a struggle that we go through together. He is my spouse, when he hurts, I am mad if I didn't cause the pain, when he vomits, I clean the mess, when he can't sleep, guess who isn't sleeping?! All joking aside, illness affects (or is it that damned effect?) the whole family unit. It is hard because sometimes, you just want to get up and do and not worry is this a sick day, or a good day. Are we going to make it through the day without any meltdowns, vomiting or other problems? It's hard on both of us. And it is harder not to be selfish and say "why". Why doesn't really help either because it just is, there is no why.
I struggle. I am human and have my own problems, like this huge lump in my throat that is all the bitterness and sadness that I feel (or acid-reflux from all the junk I have eaten to try and numb the pain). I make mistakes and say hateful things. I cry and I bitch and complain. I over-share then build walls to protect myself. I am fragile and I am sad.
So while I hate all this bullshit about "it could be worse" or "not his fault" and the occasional "why" it's true and dammit that really makes me mad.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wife wanted
I want a wife. I do, start saving money for Christmas because I will not be happy until I have a wife. Not a wife like me, heavens no. I want a real wife, a wife who can cook a five-course meal in 5 inch heels and a full face of make-up. A wife who rubs my feet at the end of a hard-day and will shut-the-hell-up for five minutes to let me think! A wife who will buff the floors (whatever the hell that means) and clean the windows. A wife who cares about the state of my socks and will purchase new ones and quietly whisk away the offending holey socks.
What else do I want in a wife? Well, thanks for asking. I want a wife who really cares, one that will ask me if I took my medications and keep up on my Dr.s appointments. A wife who will cook healthy meals and snacks and make me walk after dinner. I want a wife who will remember birthdays and holidays. A wife who will shop frugally and endlessly for the perfect gift for said holidays and birthdays. A wife who remembers important dates and pays bills on time. On time I say, none of this OHMYGOD they are shutting off the electric, hurry up and run out there and throw some money at the electric company man!
I want a wife dammit. A wife, a good, clean, honest wife. One who makes hand-crafted gifts and a mean martini.
What else do I want in a wife? Well, thanks for asking. I want a wife who really cares, one that will ask me if I took my medications and keep up on my Dr.s appointments. A wife who will cook healthy meals and snacks and make me walk after dinner. I want a wife who will remember birthdays and holidays. A wife who will shop frugally and endlessly for the perfect gift for said holidays and birthdays. A wife who remembers important dates and pays bills on time. On time I say, none of this OHMYGOD they are shutting off the electric, hurry up and run out there and throw some money at the electric company man!
I want a wife dammit. A wife, a good, clean, honest wife. One who makes hand-crafted gifts and a mean martini.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Old me...
While I long for the days when my blogs were full of wit and merriment they, alas, are no longer as such. They are more full of whining, bitching, pissing and moaning a sure sign that I am getting old. If only I could put grey hairs and wrinkles on my blogs then I would have the old trinity. You do know what the old trinity is, don't you? Bitching about everything while doing nothing, wrinkles and saying such gems as "back in my day" or "when I was a kid". *sigh* I at least thought I would make it to the big 5-0 before I started acting like this, boy, I aged quickly. Everyone always said I was mature for my age, well to hell with them!
So, I had adopted a new alter-ego in my twilight years (all 36 of them...), Super Nancy to the rescue (my new feisty alter-ego), speaker-outer for the downtrodden, teller of shit no-one wants to hear. Nancy, she is a total peach man! She is witty and strong-willed, can't be broken. She is the voice of reason. Or so I thought. She was going to be my savior. She was the Hero-ess for beaten down women everywhere and she only lived for about 12 hours and dammit, she died crying with her head ripped off and shoved up her ass for daring to voice her opinion. The opinion of those that cannot be heard. I loved you Nancy and you will be missed. Lesson learned? If you are going to be ferocious, don't cry. No one likes a cry-baby.
So, I had adopted a new alter-ego in my twilight years (all 36 of them...), Super Nancy to the rescue (my new feisty alter-ego), speaker-outer for the downtrodden, teller of shit no-one wants to hear. Nancy, she is a total peach man! She is witty and strong-willed, can't be broken. She is the voice of reason. Or so I thought. She was going to be my savior. She was the Hero-ess for beaten down women everywhere and she only lived for about 12 hours and dammit, she died crying with her head ripped off and shoved up her ass for daring to voice her opinion. The opinion of those that cannot be heard. I loved you Nancy and you will be missed. Lesson learned? If you are going to be ferocious, don't cry. No one likes a cry-baby.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Stuff and other such nonsense...
So today is yet another Dr appointment, this time for me, however. I hope that I am not as annoyed as I was yesterday while sitting the the Dr office waiting for Tony. It was just an annoying mess. I try so hard not to be mad (because I am going to have a freakin' stroke one of these days because of my temper) but damn, why does everyone get stuff for free but me? I honestly was the only person that hour that had a job save for the people that worked there! I know the unemployment rate for the AC is like 11% but what are the chances at all 11% being at the Dr at the same time? I mean really? Oh wait, what am I thinking? Working people can't afford to go to the Dr, duh.
But enough of that nonsense. I could go on and on forever about it and I am a walking contradiction when it comes to public assistance, anyway. I believe that at one time it was a great program, meant to help people get on their feet, now however, it seems to keep people down. No happy medium I guess.
Why all the Dr. appointments? Well with Tony being well chronically ill it involves a lot of maintenance appointments. A lot of yeah things look OK for now see ya in a month because we need to test this medication or more blood work and the beginning of the year is a total suck because he has to have all these expensive tests to make sure he doesn't have cancer or the varices haven't worsened because of the cirrhosis. It really is a pain in the ass.
Today, however, the Dr appointment is for me. *sigh* And I am such a bad patient. I sorta take my medication, at what dose I feel like, not really what the Dr may want me to take. I am choosy and generally non-compliant. Not a good time for the Dr. I just really want a miracle. I want the magic wand to be waved over me and all the annoying stuff that I see the Dr for to be magically gone. But for some reason that never happens. But today should be a quick visit just a medication re-check and a shot. Boy I love those! Nothing makes me happier than a shot in the buns. Yeah me.
However, I babble. The whole reason for this blog? No reason really. I started this blog with a lesson in mind about how people should take care of themselves and the downfall of human kind and really it just ended up about nothing. But that's OK because I like talking about nothing.
But enough of that nonsense. I could go on and on forever about it and I am a walking contradiction when it comes to public assistance, anyway. I believe that at one time it was a great program, meant to help people get on their feet, now however, it seems to keep people down. No happy medium I guess.
Why all the Dr. appointments? Well with Tony being well chronically ill it involves a lot of maintenance appointments. A lot of yeah things look OK for now see ya in a month because we need to test this medication or more blood work and the beginning of the year is a total suck because he has to have all these expensive tests to make sure he doesn't have cancer or the varices haven't worsened because of the cirrhosis. It really is a pain in the ass.
Today, however, the Dr appointment is for me. *sigh* And I am such a bad patient. I sorta take my medication, at what dose I feel like, not really what the Dr may want me to take. I am choosy and generally non-compliant. Not a good time for the Dr. I just really want a miracle. I want the magic wand to be waved over me and all the annoying stuff that I see the Dr for to be magically gone. But for some reason that never happens. But today should be a quick visit just a medication re-check and a shot. Boy I love those! Nothing makes me happier than a shot in the buns. Yeah me.
However, I babble. The whole reason for this blog? No reason really. I started this blog with a lesson in mind about how people should take care of themselves and the downfall of human kind and really it just ended up about nothing. But that's OK because I like talking about nothing.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A blog from me!
So as many of you might or might not have noticed I do not blog as much as I used to, what is weird about that is I continually write in my head. I am always thinking about what I would say about what is going on in my life or what I am feeling, etc. I dunno how to describe it other than I am always writing in my head. Too bad there is not some head-blog wavelength so I can just think my blogs and viola they are posted. You know, though, scratch that because my blogs would then either get me sued, divorced, de-friend-ed (which I do quite well on my own thanks) or fired. Probably disowned and perhaps in a padded room with fuzzy bunny slippers. Hum, do you think they let you have fuzzy bunny slippers in a padded room? I am going to say no, death by fuzzy bunny slippers would be way to much paperwork to fill out, no matter how funny it would be. I can hear it now, how did she do it? Slippers you say? Fuzzy bunny slippers, what a tragedy but that Angie, she was always such a kidder. What a funny girl. That sounds just like her going out with a laugh.
But anyway, what is going on with me? Not a whole lot beside a horrible bout of depression, which I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. What a boring, selfish thing to suffer from, depression. I mean really just how much can one person whine about how much they suck, life sucks, work sucks, family sucks, marriage sucks, being sick sucks, well, I am guessing you get the picture. So just how much whining can one person do? A hell-of-a-lot just ask any of my totally awesome friends, who have listened to the same whines over and over and over again. They give advice, listen, sigh and let me just be me. And even though I disconnect sometimes and I am a terrible listener, they still are my friends, and I love them for that.
But anyway, what is going on with me? Not a whole lot beside a horrible bout of depression, which I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. What a boring, selfish thing to suffer from, depression. I mean really just how much can one person whine about how much they suck, life sucks, work sucks, family sucks, marriage sucks, being sick sucks, well, I am guessing you get the picture. So just how much whining can one person do? A hell-of-a-lot just ask any of my totally awesome friends, who have listened to the same whines over and over and over again. They give advice, listen, sigh and let me just be me. And even though I disconnect sometimes and I am a terrible listener, they still are my friends, and I love them for that.
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