My mental state: a confessional?

I had deja vu today. I thought to myself “I really hate it when I am this anxious, I wish I could just go back to being depressed, at least then I could get some sleep.” and then I realized that a mere few weeks ago when I was feeling particularly depressed I thought “I wish I could just go back to being anxious, at least with anxiety I don’t feel dead inside.”

I can’t go through another 5 year bout of this. I don’t have the energy.

With that said, I don’t want to post this shit on a Facebook status update because honestly, there is less of a chance that anyone is gonna click the link to come here versus seeing it in a status update. I know it isn’t anonymous and that someone will see this, but I can’t afford a doctor and I need to get this shit out of me. It is poison. The problem is, people ask me to talk to them about it and I clam up. I can’t verbalize it right now because it is raw. Maybe when it is over and I’ve begun to heal a little, I can go back and reminisce about this awful feeling, but now, I can’t.

A few family members might come around the blog to see what’s going on. A couple friends might. If anyone does, though, they chose to read it, it isn’t like I made them listen to the incoherent ramblings of an over (or under, for that matter) stimulated brain, just spewing out emotion vomit. I know I am a burden when I am like this, but at least here, the people reading it chose to read it. At least here I can “say” what I need to say and cry about it without feeling like I am wasting anyone’s time, without feeling weak. I know I am weak. I dont think I can handle starting this conversation and watching the other person’s eyes glaze over, or the person listening perhaps checking their phone while I fall apart in front of them. Here I can get this rot out of me uninterrupted.

I don’t know why I am still justifying to myself why I am writing this. Oh well, fuck it.

So, here I am.

Anxiety makes me shake. I have nightmares. My guts are upset, I jump out of my skin at the slightest sound. My heart rate is irregular. My mouth is dry. My skin feels like I have bugs crawling all over me. I cant make a decision. I am confused by regular every day things. I have no desire to be out of my house, yet I feel guilty if I don’t participate in life. I am easily enraged by simple things. My feelings get hurt easily. I overreact to the slightest things. My senses are heightened to the point where a running fan is deafening and the sun is blinding. I can “feel” germs on me when I touch anything in public. I can almost “see” them. I feel nauseated. My breathing is strained, my chest hurts, my muscles are tense. My mind is throwing a million thoughts at me incoherently. I am remembering stupid things from ten years ago and feeling guilt, anger, and sadness that should have long since gone away. I am uncomfortable in my skin, I dread getting in my car tomorrow to drive to work. I am convinced I am losing my mind but at this point, it would be relief if it just shut itself the fuck off. I want to channel these feelings in to artwork but I am too raw emotionally to do so, and when I avoid getting this out of me I feel guilt that I am not creating. I know I am off of my “path” in life and that scares me like a horror movie scares a normal person. I am literally scared witless that I am not fulfilling some purpose that I am not even aware of. It is like failing a goal I was never told I had, just that I had to achieve it. I get the urge to pick at my skin, sometimes my brain tells me to cut myself, like a good bloodletting will release some of these demons. I am flailing my arms and legs on the inside while trying to maintain the appearance of steadiness on the outside, and, frankly, I am fucking exhausted. I wear my masks proudly, cracked, rotted, and decayed as they are, they still cover my rawness.

That’s where I am. Who knows how long I will be here, but that is where I am.

I had the urge to work on some photos today. I had the urge to make a painting. Neither of those things happened because the thought was overstimulating.

So, it’s out there, the darkness has lifted from my soul, only to be replaced with electricity. I go from nothingness to everything all at once. It is overwhelming.

To anyone who has read this far, I hope this helps to explain some of the things I may have said or did, or what something I might do or say in the future. In the meantime, I will continue to try to find this elusive path I’m supposed to be walking.

Peace and love, friends.

SUGAR!

Hello birds and blokes, and welcome back to the mine field that is my brain!

I feel good today! Surprisingly good! Oh, and there it is! There’s the little black monster that always invades my thoughts! Here is what it looks like…

I feel good today! Surprisingly good! Don’t get used to it.
I had a great day at work!
You suck.
I am going to have a great day tomorrow!
Not if I can help it.
Sunshine and rainbows!
Darkness and death.

My brain is Grumpy Cat. You know who I am talking about…

Holy … yeah. My brain is MFing Grumpy Cat. That is both disturbing and incredibly awesome.

Anyway, I am back today because I feel bad for having neglected you beauties for so long. Also, I really want to get back in to writing. Also, I have been eating a tremendous amount of sugar. It’s been going on since my miscarriage. I can’t seem to function without some kind of candy. This is disturbing because I had finally lost weight and was happy-ish with my body, and now I’ve gained a lot of it back. I know I have sugar issues when I get depressed. I LOVE sugar when I’m depressed. I would like to quit this sugar addiction. Have any of you lovelies had this experience? Do you have a go-to food to alleviate depression symptoms?  I quit smoking, I should be able to quit sugar, right?

So, yesterday I spent the entire day in front of the art cart and staring at Adobe Premier. I had a really fulfilling day yesterday.

I had a really fulfilling day yesterday.
Don’t get used to it.

That little black monster is a bitch.

Anyway, I painted. I am FINALLY getting this painting idea out of my head and on to a canvas. I have been sketching studies for it for MONTHS and I am finally getting it out of my head. I woke up in a shitty mood, too, but it faded once I started painting.

… but it faded once I started painting.
It will come back.

So, there is the proof. I have actually been sketching, which is so much better than I can say I was doing last year at this time.

… which is so much better than I can say I was doing last year at this time.
Wasting your time.

Damn! It is so automatic! I think a good think, and a bad think follows almost immediately. How the hell do I shut off the autopilot on this brain??!!

BAH!

All right. I AM doing better than I was yesterday, which is good. Tomorrow I will get to see my guy and that’s even better. I will claw my way out of this funk.

So, yeah. If you have a go-to depression addiction, leave a comment! Especially if you are trying to (or are going to try to) kick your habit, too. We can share war stories!

Deuces silly gooses!

Have another glass of chocolate milk.

So, I guess my vacation is allowing me to indulge in staying up all night.  Eighties hair band Slaughter would have been proud.  Oh, except for the “sleep all day” part, because I still got up at 9 this morning after going to bed at 5.  I’ll be fine.

 

Slaughter. Photo courtesy metalmusicarchives.com

 

Anyway, you are probably wondering what has me up all night (this will not require an “ooh la la”).  The first night, I stayed up playing Plants vs. Zombies.  I know, right?

 

Photo courtesy wikipedia.org

 

In my defense, I started playing in mid-evening and I looked at the clock again and it was 4 a.m.  I sense this will become an addiction similar to The Sims 3 for me.  Screw it, I’m on vacation.

 

On the second night that I stayed up well past my bedtime (last night), I did something much more productive and something I have been meaning to do for a while.  I re-read (and saved to a jump drive) this entire blog.  I wanted to see if I have grown in the year I have been writing.  Well, if not emotionally, had I grown as a writer?  I can’t tell!  Ha!  But it wasn’t a complete waste of a night.  I have been nervous because the end of April is in sight, which means May is around the corner, and if you’ve been keeping up with me on here or in “real life”, then you know of my SEVERE distaste (and distrust) for May.

 

A few things:

1) Stop staying up all night.  In order to function on the amount of sleep you got, you needed copious amounts of coffee, which we know from experience is not good for heart nor amygdala.

 

Courtesy sanitaryum.com

 

2)May, though evil, is not trying to kill you.  If anything, you should be terrified of MARCH, not May.  Beware the ides of March.  Duh.  Also, the March Hare was a complete lunatic.

3) Speaking to people using song lyrics to begin or end sentences, while hilarious, would be difficult, time-consuming, and would ultimately only serve to annoy the people to whom you are speaking.  Stop it.  That is your friend coffee trying to convince you that this would be a good idea.  Oh, and stop waking the cat every hour with “wake up Katey, I think I’ve got something to say to you.”  Your Rod Stewart is impressive, but you are pissing off the cat.

 

WTF? ENOUGH WITH THE ROD STEWART!
Photo by me.

 

I bet he likes cats.
Rod Stewart. Photo courtesy rollingstone.com

4) This hyper-awareness you are experiencing is nothing more than caffeine.  You are not dying, and you certainly are not a superior being.

5) You look adorable today.  Go out and do something.

Me.
Photo by me.

 

6) In the future, one cup of coffee is sufficient.  Substitute all subsequent brown beverages with chocolate milk.  If you cannot abide by this rule, at least have an energy-burning game plan on deck.

7) You used to enjoy coffee, remember?

8) You don’t always have to blog about (or even contemplate) the “big, important” stuff.  Emotions have two sides, just like everything else.  It is not always about bad stuff!  Try blogging about happy stuff, too!  Right?

9) STOP SECOND GUESSING YOURSELF!  Ha.  Did you see what I did there?

10) It is not the end of the world when your phone autocorrects “nookie” to “book keeping”, although one must question the intelligence of my “smart” phone.  PROOFREAD!  Problem solved.  Please do not ask why I was using the word nookie to begin with.

Okay.  10 things.  A nice, even number.  Honestly, I can tell as I re-read my blog for a little reflection and discovery (R&D) which posts I wrote under the influence of coffee.  🙂

All right, I know I have not enriched anyone’s mind, shared an in depth analysis on the mind or anything worthwhile for that matter, and frankly, I am actually annoying myself in this post, but I do hope you got a giggle out of it.

 

I swear, I am not on crack.

Crack.
Photo by me.

MSJ OUT!

 

***

Damn.  I feel bad leaving you without any thinkers.  Here ya go:

Quote: “Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.” — Shakespeare (courtesy brainyquote.com)

Riddle me this:

I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space.  I am essential to creation, and I surround every place.  What am I?

What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?

The answer to this is NOT Edward Cullen.  Don’t be a douche.  Look, even he is pissed because the answer isn’t him:

 

Edward Cullen
Photo courtesy twilightguide.com

FACT: every square inch of flesh on your body has approximately 32 million bacteria on it.  Don’t lick yourself.  (courtesy howstuffworks.com)

And lastly, today’s Melism:

My new favorite phrase is “for the love of frank” because, frankly, I don’t know Pete all that well.

Having one of those WTF moments.

I really don’t have anything to say, but I was really drawn to my blog just now.  Perhaps something will pop in my skull to write about … wait … oh, yep, there’s something.

Now, avid readers of my blog (all two of you), know by now that I am kind of fucked (phukt, Ha) in the head.  So, I submit to you the nightmares I had last night…

Another night of no sleep.  I had another nightmare that prevented me from sleeping beyond 2am.  In the dream, I was smoking a cigarette, which I don’t do anymore, so that was kind of weird (day 32 of no cigarettes woot woot), and suddenly in the nightmare, my head turned to that funky blue-gray smoke and it floated away.  It was just my head, though, the rest of my body remained intact, and somehow I took another drag on the cigarette even though my mouth had floated away.  This dream, although not inherently scary, scared the PHUKT out of me and I JUMPT up like someone lit my arse on fire. Interpret THAT one, Freud!  

I couldn’t go back to sleep right away, so I lay there in my bed, staring at the ceiling.  The last glance at the clock that I remember read 4:19 am, so I must have fallen asleep somewhere around there.  My alarm went off at 5:30.  Ok, I went to bed at 11, got up at 2, went back to bed at 4:19, and up at 5:30.  Four hours!  That’s an hour more than I have been getting, so I was happy with that, but before I get ahead of myself, the second nightmare was a little stranger:

I am talking to a Chinese man and holding a glass bowl filled with water chestnuts.  The man tells me that I CANNOT fill the bowl higher than the water chestnuts, so I look and see that there’s at least an inch more room in the bowl.  I argue (as I always do) and tell him that I CAN fit more water chestnuts in the bowl.  We argue this way for a moment and I turn to my left and there is a HUGE (swimming pool sized) glass bowl next to me, filled with water and of all things, dead rats (YUM).  As I continue to argue with the Chinese guy about the water chestnuts, I look up above the giant rat bowl and see another man hanging by his feet above the bowl (???).  I look back at the Chinese guy (because all of this is so commonplace that I don’t even notice it???) and continue to argue.  I look back at the hanging man, he opens his mouth, and out falls machine parts.  Bolts, nuts, screws, etc. all tinged green like vomit.  WHAT??  And, once again, Melissa bolts upright in bed like a bat out of hell.  Now, call me nuts (right… like you weren’t already…) but these aren’t “nightmares”.  There are no spiders or vampires or monsters of any kind in these two dreams.  The only “monster” here is my own fucking brain!  So, why am I jumping up like I’m dreaming about outrunning a mob of zombies in post-apocolyptic downtown Cleveland???  I’m starting to wonder if I ever finally have a GOOD dream, will I still bolt up like it was a nightmare??  Who am I kidding, I don’t have good dreams.  That would never happen. 

ANYWAY.

I’ve been shooting my Pappaps’ old Polaroid 220 Automatic and I have been having a fucking blast with it, so my life isn’t all dark and brooding.  I do manage to have some fun once in a while.  I also need to make a shoutout here to my girls Shannon and Heather for hanging out with me on Saturday because that was the most fun I have had in a depressingly long time.  See?  It’s not all bad. 

I have an appointment with the cardiologist tomorrow to solve, once and for all, this irregular heartbeat that I’ve had my whole life.  Kind of like “what came first, the chicken or the egg?”, this is “what comes first, the palpitation or the panic attack?”  This should be fun.

Today is my former best friend’s birthday, so of course that’s eating away at me.  I should be hanging out with him, not sitting in my basement typing this fucking blog. 

My new headshrinker appointment is on August 22, so THAT should be interesting.  I will certainly keep you all posted with how nutso-crazy he thinks I am…

and with that, 745 words later, I crack my knuckles and it sounds like machine-gun fire, so it’s time to stop blogging now.

Peace out bitches.