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Archive for the ‘Shit/Stuff=Shtuff’ Category

When does no mean yes? How much push should you push when you push back?

Anywho, had a pleasant day with my little one, she continues to astound me with her intelligence, her insight, her sense of humor…just everything about her I love…except the whining….I don’t like that.

Spoke to all three of my boys, collectively as well as individually…except my number 3…it was short and sweet there…my heart hurts, my head hurts…like my brain hurts….so much said, so much not said…demons…we all have them…we can’t all slay them on our own…I wish I could slay others demons…sigh…I am all random here, so much going on in my head…I don’t expect anything up above to make sense to anyone…if I was having an actual conversation with anyone it really would sound like what is in print….best to keep shit to myself…hmm…should just go grab some ice cold water and read myself to sleep…night….good thing about tomorrows…a chance to have a fresh start or screw shit up…

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Or at least I do, I know I am alive, I know I am stupid, I know I have limitations, I know I exceeded the limitations, I know I can still do stupid stuff and more importantly I just know I Cantu (can too).

I decided to do some yard work, which I wholeheartedly enjoy…unfortunately my back is not so fond of my lack of better judgement…I’ll start feeling the tightness, the messages sent to my brain, but something in me refuses to quit…I keep pushing and pushing…and here we are days later and still hurting (a lot) but also I am waiting for the pain to ease up so I can get back to it…yes, I could easily engage in getting help…but that would be depriving myself of such a simple joy…minus the fucking calluses. Those I don’t like, but I have manly rough hands, nothing sissy about my hands…nothing sissy about me at all…

And on to other things…my brain has been foggier, more so than what has become the norm….could be the drugs, could be the lack of activity (mental) I have been having a hard time getting into finishing a book I just started…granted when I am in pain I just cannot concentrate…so I pick the book up and keep reading the same 2-3 pages and putting it back down…I know, this too shall pass…like a kidney stone or stuck compacted turd.

And another thing I really do think I should get back to writing, like seriously my brain needs the self stimulation that only I can provide for it.

And that’s all I have for now.

 

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I took off for the weekend to one of my favorite places to spend time with some of my favorite people and while it was a nice visit I am still paying for it…I left right after work, made pretty good time, arrived at my destination, unloaded my car and then took off to check out a thrift store a few miles down the road, I piddled around and returned….after a while I made it out again to join my brother in picking up a few provisions for the weekend. We did the usual, visit, share laughter and then made it to bed….then HOLY FUCK…I woke up in so much pain, when I did make it downstairs it was quite apparent to the family as to how bad it was…I wanted to come back home, I didn’t want them to see me like that…I simply did not have the strength to get back home. Saturday I didn’t even step out the door…much of it is a blur due to the energy I expended in trying to function…I am still expending that energy to get by. I hate it. FML doesn’t even cover it. This week is closer to the weekend, yay….my weekend will be more recovery…I think of my friends who have it so  much worse and can’t even get out of bed…I don’t want to be the whiney, bitchy old bitter lady I am becoming…there is a way out with dignity, the time will come to explore those options. Pity party over.

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I just had the worst panic attack I’ve had in quite a while, I had to rush the insurance adjuster out of my house so I could have my melt down in private…even though he saw what was happening…I am trying to settle my nerves, get the shaking under control as well as my breathing…I hate admitting to myself that I am weak and that I can’t always take care of things that need to be taken care of…this whole insurance roof repair thing is a good case in point….nothing he said registered and the more he tried (gently) to explain the worse it got for me….I almost feel like it would be easier to just sell my house and move into an apartment and not have to deal….an option I am seriously considering…how can I get myself back on track, am I doomed to just being a failure…weak, incompetent, just plain stupid…sheesh…I just can’t deal with this crap…and no platitudes will help, no gentle hugs, nothing will soothe me…times like these I wish I had my daddy….then I could hate myself even more for that…sheesh…if screaming would help I would indulge myself…or eating myself into a coma, or drinking myself into a stupor…okay, I gotta wrap up this pity party and go back to pretending everything is just fine… Fuck, fuck, fuck…keep-calm-and-fuck-it-all-12

 

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Son muchos los dichos que se pueden aplicar en mi situacion presente..

Mejor sola que mal acompañada…

El que calla otorga…que por seguro no lo vuelvo a repitir…puede que no hable pero no piense otorgar ningun abuso mas

La privacidad no es algo a lo que tengo derecho, es un prerrequisito absoluto….se ha violado la confianza…puede que nunca se recupere…no voy a defenderme por tu intromisión, si viste algo que no estaba destinado para ti, demasiado mal, nada de lo que puedas decir reparará el daño, puedo perdonar pero no olvidar…
Y sí, esto es para ti, demasiado mentalmente agotada para verbalizar este discurso
Esto no significa que quiero que la amistad/relación termine, pero si cambia la dinámica…
asshole

 

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I can’t move….I hate this, so minimal movement until this subsides, I have medicated myself and placed myself in a position where everything I might need is within reach….except the pot. not the smoking kind, but the one you piss in…maybe if I had the other….hmmm…when will this end…and what the fuck is the point, I don’t even have the energy for an internal debate…I just want to crawl in a corner and die…but fuck I can’t even crawl…sucks to be me…and that there concludes my pity party.

I’ve pending research to tend to…and then shuffle my ass to bed where I hope to pass out until I go to work.

 

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So just last week I was all excited because I made the adult decision to refinance my house…over the phone and fresh off an overnight shift. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

I am quite capable in many aspects of my life, but I can get overwhelmed with certain things, I had been putting off the paperwork and decided to tackle it this morning, 5 pages in and my anxiety shot up like a motherfucker. I just can’t. So now I need to send an email to whoever was to be holding my hand virtually through this process and say never mind and please don’t contact me because I will have a heart attack. I don’t understand why this happens, same with my retirement account…you’d think I’d be open to taking care of this shit but I can’t. I’d rather be shot between the eyes and avoid the anxiety.

I’m working through this by writing about it. I know I have a non refundable fee to pay for initializing this process….and I’m okay with that…just make it all go away. so I remain stuck and frustrated and pissed off at myself and actually I am now in tears because my anxiety is just going up….why does adulting have to suck? I shoulda been born a princess and not have to worry about this shit.

I am retreating, I just can’t, writing is not helping, well, it did help some but I’m giving myself an ulcer. Wah

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid….

03.Top-Therapies-for-Anxiety-Disorders

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