Let's Talk about the S-Word...

Do you ever want to just give up? I do every time my husband gets frustrated and angry. Whether it’s something I did, didn’t do (but he thinks I should have, even if he never said, “Hey could you do this?”), or something someone else did, he’ll get really pissy about it. Doesn’t matter if I had nothing to do with it, all the snapping comes right at me. So what do I do? I actually feel guilty about it like it’s my fault the weather’s crap, or the car needs gas (oh, wait that is my fault but I always have a good excuse like I’m only going out to do grocery shopping not going all over the place so why should I have to pay for the gas?) or some other stupid thing I can’t control but feel guilty that I can’t. I think I have a complex because I’m not a witch with real magic. A side effect from all the fantasy and urban fantasy books I’ve read I guess.

That’s when the dark part of my brain kicks in. Isn’t it really awful there’s a part of the brain where it’s all dark and depressing and there are scary things lurking like fear, anxiety, and suicide? It’s been talking a whole lot this past year since the DH’s been extra grumpy about everything.

After a particularly bad fight about my agoraphobia and depression, (he comes from a family of ‘just do it’ types so he has a really hard time understanding my lack of energy) my stupid brain kicks in and starts with we could leave and I’m all well where would we go ‘cause I don’t have anyone I could ask to take me in or money to get a hotel room besides I still do love the jerk even when I wish I could rip his vocal cords out. With this agoraphobia it’s not like I can even work and SS isn’t all that easy to get (I’ve tried). By now I’m so depressed I just want to crawl in the closet but can’t because they’re all too full and I have some claustrophobia anyway. So then my evil brain says let’s just give up and die. You have a bag of anti-anxiety meds you never took (too many side effects but that won’t matter now). And I’m all yeah that would give him something to really bitch about, leaving him to deal with all my books and stuff.

And that’s the real reason I started this blog... to let go of the S-word.

In February I was extremely depressed, barely coping, and the DH was in such a bitchy mood ‘cause the world was conspiring against him (at least that’s what it sounded like to me the way he was complaining about every little thing). After a week of him barely being civil I just started sinking further and further into that darkness that comes from the evil part of my brain. I began to think the S-word sounded pretty good. I started planning it all out for the summer solstice (oh yeah I love drama), checked to make sure I had a LOT of pills (and I do), and started making lists of stuff to sell on Etsy and Ebay (I’m still not sure why I was doing that since I thought it would be one last thing of me being a pain in his ass by leaving all my stuff for him to deal with). Next came letters I knew I’d have to leave. I had to make what family I do have understand ‘cause I know from experience that not knowing why is way beyond awful.

So why didn’t I do it? Well lucky for me with my depression it all seemed like too much work so I started reading funny books like Jenny Lawson’s ‘Furiously Funny’ to help quiet the evil brain part so that the happy part would get some exercise by laughing. It’s pretty flabby but Jenny’s book and some others are getting it used to being happy again. (It will never be a model but I might be able to get it so it won’t be embarrassed to wear shorts. A swimsuit is just too much to ask for.) The books helped distract me (a somewhat easy thing to do) and I decided that maybe just like Jenny I could write a blog (only it would never be as good or as funny ‘cause she’s got talent that’s way beyond mine, google her and go to her blog... you’ll see) and it would help me work thru all the depression since I no longer have a therapist.

It’s kinda worked but evil brain (I REALLY need a cool name for it ... how about ... hmmm ... I swear the thing is fighting me about the name thing ... so I’m going to call it Pinky-Brain after my fav cartoon ‘cause it’s stupid and evil and it better not give me any trouble over it either), So Pinky-Brain is still lurking with all it’s evil thoughts in the back of my mind like dark shadows (not the TV show ‘cause I do kinda like it) just waiting to cover over any good stuff so there’s nothing but depression. But maybe, just maybe, with the help of this blog I can keep it busy thinking about what to write next so it won’t go back to the s-word.

This isn’t the first time I’ve considered it but it was the best organized ‘cause I try to be organized but with a husband who loses everything it’s seldom easy. Loses stuff and is a quick-tempered grumpy pain, amazing we’ve been married so long. Guess loves got to do with it...

Am I a danger to other drivers? Maybe but blame the flowers not me!

I was out yesterday and while driving I had to keep reminding myself to pay attention (not easy with my brain), that other drivers did not want go school zone slow while I was looking around. Driving is a rough time for me as I’m not the most confident driver, ok make that I’m an anxiety filled driver. I try to keep my mind on where I am and not on what’s going in the fantasy filled part of my brain but it doesn’t always work. I swear the jerk thingy always wants to think about everything but driving. Super scary when you’re driving and all of a sudden you realize you are further down the road than you last remember. Lucky for me (and other drivers) I don’t live in a place that’s extremely busy with cars most of the time. I use the radio to try to pay attention which works until I hate the song that just came on and I HAVE to change the channel and the presets all are against me ‘cause they all have ads or terrible songs or really annoying DJs. Good thing I don’t have a cell, too.

You think cells are distracting? What about all the blooming flowers and trees starting in the spring? Everything outside has been so blah. Talking about the middle of the states to north, not you lucky ones in the deep south that get all panicky over a minor frost and have never seen real snow. Well maybe a dusting but that doesn’t count ‘cause it’s like frost on a bit of steroids.

So anyway, flowers in the spring make me slow down when I’m driving (remember I mentioned it in the first sentence? No? Go ahead and re-read it I’ll wait). It’s like I just gotta see ‘em and let the beauty sink in. It only gets worse as summer arrives with even more splendiferous blooms till little Jacky Frost comes and murders all the pretties.

I’m not a fan of all the non-flowery crap (no offense, just my opinion) that people love to “decorate” their yards with. What makes someone think wood cutout shapes like polka dot fannies are just the best thing to put in a flower bed? I thought about getting a small turtle, or a frog to put next to one of the bird baths but I always talk myself out of it. I worry I’d trip over them or they’d scare the birds. My husband says I don’t need a small ceramic thing to trip over I can do that with just my feet (he’s right, I’m very clumsy but how rude to remind me). The DH says they won’t care about anything else around the bird baths, they’ll just poo on them like they do everything else. Actually he said sh*t but I’m trying for a little class here and he said that’s kind of a losing battle isn’t it? So I just stomped away threatening to buy every turtle, frog, and maybe even garden gnomes at the garden store. He’s still laughing ‘cause he knows I’m too cheap (I say frugle) to buy even one and that garden gnomes freak me out. Gnomeo and Juliet didn’t help. Now we know what they do when we’re not around, creepy...

No matter how pretty the flowers are I spend a lot of time sneezing. Talk about a driving distraction! Nothing like driving when you’re sneezing and I seldom sneeze just once. It’s more like 3 or more times. Damn flowers, why do you have to be so pretty?

So am I a danger on the road? Kinda, maybe ... yeah, but I promise to take my allergy meds and only looky-loo when I’m a passenger so everyone around here will at least be safe from me. Can’t make any guarantees about all the other crazies on the road.

Cats who love toes or why does my cat have a foot fetish?

Little Orphan Andy, also known as the drooling boy, is the third cat I’ve had since I got married. The other 2 have gone to kitty heaven, at least I hope so ‘cause Merlin was one of those cats you have to wonder which way he’d end up.

Lo’ Andy showed up one day after Thanksgiving hiding in the front yard bushes. He barely looked old enough to be weaned so I started putting out bowls of milk and tuna. Soon he decided he had a good thing, what with the people tuna and milk, so he ‘adopted’ us. Yes I looked for his owner just not too hard ‘cause the little guy was already a real member of the family.

Matty, our lab, was very happy to have a new playmate and even learned how to play and not break Andy or get his eyes scratched out. This is very hard to do. I know from experience having had Merlin just miss my eye when playing. I ran around with a black eye and scratch holes at the bottom for a month. He did the same thing to the springer we had at the time, too. And you wonder why I’m not sure he went to kitty heaven. Maybe he didn’t come from there in the first place. He was one of those cats who like to hide, then jump out, and grab your ankles. He also liked to sit on the basement steps so he could reach thru and grab your head. Nothing like claw holes in your scalp that you have to explain to the person who cuts your hair.

But back to Andy and Matty. Matty is a lab who thinks he’s a small dog who should always be on your lap. Andy also likes to lap surf. As soon as one gets up the other takes his place. Nice when it’s cold but sweat inducing otherwise. Andy has another fav thing to do. The little guy loves to snuggle feet.

Here’s a typical night with Andy. I wake up and think it’s the middle of the night so I’ll be able to pee in peace (not that peeing is war ... unless you have a UTI and then it’s like your body’s having a war all on it’s own and you’re invited whether you want to be or not). Ok back to peeing quick and getting back to bed before I wake up so much my brain won’t let me go back to sleep (it's really mean and prefers to be up thinking and stuff instead of letting my body snooze). Problem is Andy has followed me and flops to the floor, purring loud enough to wake anyone not completely deaf or dead. Though, sometimes I wonder if he could wake the dead ‘cause he’s SO loud I can even hear him through the ear plugs I ‘m wearing (I need them because I have a husband who sometimes sounds like he’s trying to wake everyone in the neighborhood). Then it happens ... he flops on my feet and starts rubbing his head on my toes all the while drooling and purring. It doesn’t matter if I have socks on or bare feet as long as he can get to them. Super weird is that it happens most when I’m on the loo.

Did you know that today is Hug Your Cat Day? I didn’t till I looked at a calendar I have from author Sarah Addison Allen (LOVE her books!). It has all these odd days marked like Hug Your Cat day. I can’t wonder why cat owners have to be reminded to hug their cats. Are we supposed to be, oh yeah it’s hug your cat day again. Gee, it’s been a year since I last hugged my cat so I better get on it.

Andy’s here at my feet purring and drooling so after I get a kleenix to wipe off the drool I’ll give him his official hug. So hug your cat and just not one day a year.