where have I been?
November 30, 2006
Surrendering my life to depression, one piece at a time.
I had one of those little clarity moments this morning, when I was walking the dog. I realized I don�t sing anymore. Or bead, or exercise, or write, or eat vegetables, or uphold social obligations, or socially interact, or take care of myself, or take care of my car, or take care of my house, or�
Nope. Not much of anything, really.
Well, work. I do that. Except for when I�m too bummed to get out of bed--like last Tuesday.
I�m kind of a mess right now. And that scares me really bad, because I�m staring down the barrel of my worst time of year, and I�m facing it without any resources. The bad weather-slash-holidays nightmare is just barely doable in my good years, but a bad year, like this one? Survival always seems very touch-and-go.
None of the meds worked out, and I can�t face trying more of them. I can�t really afford them, anyway. You have to buy them several months worth at a time, and I can�t seem to get it together enough to scrape out the money or to fight the battles of getting the special prescriptions and submitting the confusing mail-order paperwork. When it comes to depression meds, the insurance has an easy time winning, because they have made it too complicated for my diminished coping abilities.
Needless to say, with the Helliday onslaught and the fact that there is a winter storm bearing down on me right this moment, I�m particularly low right now.
We skipped the wedding party thingie last Saturday. I sent an email saying we were sick. The real reason we didn�t go is we couldn�t afford the clothes. None of our rags were remotely presentable in the context of a Schaumburg country club, and the money just isn�t there right now.I really cannot deal with working this hard and being this poor. I feel like I�m back in the Wal-Mart days again! But this time around, I�m NOT in my twenties. I�m way to old to be living this way. Thank you so very fucking much, my dear Spouse, for saddling me with this crippling fucking debt.
I�m killing myself at work doing a job I mostly loathe, so we have a steady income and insurance. And I�m wearing five-year-old underwear. He�s swinging through four jobs a year and a wrecking Harley-Davidson he can�t even afford the payments on.
What�s wrong with this picture?
Maybe I'm just grumpy because I needed to stop at the grocery store for a few things, and got trapped in the chaos and horror of weather-panicked shoppers. WHAT a friggin' zoo! The entire array of grocery store nightmares, present and accounted for. Old people wandering around at about .0001 mph, women herding their broods of 11 home-schooled rugrats under the age of twelve, idiots who leave the cart in the main aisle and make scurrying side trips carrying one item at a time, and of course--the "reunions". Can't you people go have your damned catching up chats over at the Starbucks or the Perkins?!
GRRR.
Reading: �Bitter is the New Black� by Jen Lancaster, and �jPod�, by Douglas Coupland. I�ve got to say, I used to salivate over the thought of a new Coupland, but nowadays�meh. OTOH, I�m really looking forward to Lancaster�s �Bright Lights, Big Ass�, due out next year.
Beading: I really kind of gave it up, but I took on a commission job from my boss, because I honestly was too tired to come up with a nice way to say no. Anyway, it�s a mother�s bracelet, with names and Swars representations of their birthstones. It�s for the boss�s daughter, for Christmas.
Listening: NPR and some WDRV. I�m not interested in music at the moment, so I�ve been listening to more talky stuff.
At Random: click here
|