|from a wallpaper site|
There's no better way to ring in the holiday season than a bout of sickness. That's me being sarcastic, but I will get to that more in depth in a moment. First I would like to point out that while I enjoyed the food at Amanda's cousin's restaurant, while I was tickled silly over the singing quartet of elderly men who came in and sang us three songs at Amanda's family Christmas party, and even enjoyed the snow that day as well as my exchange gift (lavender sage hand soap and lotion), I did not enjoy the surge of panic that came along with it. To say that Amanda's family overwhelms me is an understatement of vast proportions. When you get the sisters together (there are six of them) in any combination or number, things are loud, you can't get a word in- there is no point in trying they are going to interrupt and talk over you anyway- you're in for a period of time in which you can't decide if you should run and hide or if you should observe because this might be good fodder for story writing. Then if you add in the kids and the cousins- we had a rather small turn out this year mind you- and pack the into a small place, the noise is much louder, the chaos is worse, and then you stick me in against a wall (because it's the only safe place where there is any breathing room) between two tables and a lot of people scooting and pushing about, Oh My God! I had a lot of problems with my claustrophobia. And, in fact, I was so overwhelmed, that when we finally got home several hours later, I had to do dishes just to calm myself down. However, thank the gods for the snow! It was the quickest Christmas party to date on account of people worrying whether or not they were going to make it over the pass. While I dread any family gathering of Amanda's or even my family, it wasn't completely a bad time.
Amanda and I are still sick. We finally gave up and went to Urgent Care- mostly because she still needed to go to work and couldn't wait around on her doctor to have an opening and because my doctor doesn't do same day appointments. I apparently have the tail end of a sinus infection (even though I told the guy I saw that it does't feel so much in my sinuses but more in my chest and I am still coughing until I throw up and hacking up bright avocado green ick- yeah, you'll think about that next time you eat avocados won't you?). Instead of just giving me antibiotics to clear the rest out, I was given some cough medicine and nose spray. We will see how well that works. Amanda was given steroids, an inhaler, and cough medicine for an upper respiratory infection. Um, okay. We will see how well that works for her too. If it doesn't, we will be back at urgent care tapping our feet and giving them the stink eye.
I am, for once in my life, really disappointed in my father. There is a job opening at Amanda's job that he is perfect for. Amanda spoke to her boss about it and her boss said my Dad would fit in really well with the security guys there. He was even guaranteed an interview because Amanda works there and could vouch for him, and he might have actually gotten the job. More to the point, we would have let my parents move in with us for as long as they needed to get on their feet. But no, my Dad won't apply for the job and while I understand his reason of him never being able to forgive himself if he got it and took it and having to leave Grandma and Grandpa behind, I am really pissed because that means that he and Mom will be still be stuck in limbo with him have no prospects. It is maddening! What's more, the selfish part of me wants to smack him and say, remember how you felt bad about working too much and us never taking family vacations, you never making me promises, and all that crap, well you could make it up to me by moving up here, and easing my worry about you and Mom, and being close so I could actually spend time with you. But no, their lively hood and anything I want for them or feel doesn't matter over his possibly guilt. Thanks Dad, in a way, you just reinforced some "i'm not important enough feelings" that I have been struggling with. And that my help with mom, who you say is overwhelming you, isn't going to be good enough. Well fuck you too.
That aside, yesterday was a non-stop day. We went to Urgent Care, came home picked up Tsuki, and then Tsuki and I took Amanda to work and went to Winco, where my back kept trying to lock up on me. From there we went to the pharmacy, Wal-mart, McDonalds, and then to Tsuki's house to drop her and her groceries off. Then I drive back downtown to pick Amanda up from work, took the library books back to the library, and came home to cook dinner. The day was filled with a certain amount of embittered sass, a little bit of annoyed road rage, and emotional outbursts. The outbursts took place while I was trying to make dinner. All my anger and frustration exploded in the form of me yelling, slamming cabinets, throwing a package of spaghetti right into the trash only to have it burst and go everywhere. I was exhausted, hurting so much, and just wanted to scream. Oh and I have to rearrange the tupperware and bakeware cabinet because nothing would going in right so I slammed shit around in there. I also got pissed off at my dishwasher. Needless to say, I flipped my shit.
Part of the reason why I was flipping my shit is because I feel so selfish when I try to focus on me, when I want things for myself, and that shit with my Dad. Another reason was because I have gained weight again and I am trying so hard to be kind to myself. It is such a struggle because I have so many years of pent up rage, anger, and hate inside for my body. One of my friends wrote about hating herself and her body just recently and I understand what she is talking about- but from my perspective. I keep telling myself that it is okay to feel these things, to address them and look them in the face, so I can deal with them, but it is fucking hard. It is hard to say, I love myself when I can't push the car seat back any further, and my stomach touches the steering wheel. It is difficult to say I love myself when I am afraid to sleep because my period is so heavy that if I move wrong, or even cough, out gushes a ton of blood. It is hard to say I love myself when I'm having panic attacks about making phone calls to schedule appointments, going to store, and even taking a shower sometimes. It's hard to say I love myself when everything hurts from fibromyalgia. And it is hard to say I love myself when you are terrified that the one time you got drunk at a friend's house, you said something that probably offended a friend and you're already worried that said friend and well friends only tolerate you because you are engaged to Amanda. Yeah, I just said it. I think everyone likes Amanda more and just tolerates me because they want to hang out with her. I am only as good as what I can give or do for other people and beyond that, nothing. I don't make people happy, I can't make them laugh. I am certain most people think me clueless and stupid and don't take me seriously.
I hate my depression and anxiety so much. You have no idea how much it makes me angry. Sometimes, I want to tear my skin off or cut away pieces of myself. Oh well, I keep telling myself that you have to get worse before you can get better and I am trying to get better. A friend of mine gave me affirmation stickers and one of them says something to the effect "Would you talk to your best friend they way you talk to yourself?" The answer is no, I really wouldn't. I love my friends and I don't want to hurt them or see them hurt by anything or anyone. So why is it okay for me allow the opposite for myself? And why does taking time, focusing on myself and trying to be kind to myself feel so selfish and wrong? Who the hell taught me that or let me believe that?
Okay last thing and it is a happy one, per se. Amanda, after lots of whining, begging, and puppy-dog eyes, conned me in to doing a written role play with her. I am hesitant to do written role plays because they rarely get finished and I often neglect my own writing in favor of the RP. I do like writing with Amanda though. So last night we were talking about what we were going to write. I'm going to be an Elf, because that's what I was feeling and they are one of my favorite beings. Amanda is going to be a Dragon- also one of my favorite beings. However, I told her that I would only do this RP if she was at my complete and utter disposal for my own writing, that we only did one post a day, and that she has to write at least one page on her novel a week. I want her to finish the damned thing and if this is the only way to push her into it, then damn it, so be it! That said, I do have to come up with a first post today. Good thing it's still early in the day and I already have the roast cooking.