I'm just really sad and want/need a little time with it and why I sometimes wish I wasn't here.

 

Tolkien created a beautiful world. It has its downsides, all worlds do else there wouldn't be a story, but the few bright stars who are good and honorable, the ones like the Hobbits and Aragorn, Legolas, Gimili and yes even Boromir, and Gandalf, make his world the kind of place I wish I could live in. Sadly, it is fantasy and more depressing is that this world will never be like it. Maybe, once upon a time, long ago, long before Henry the 8th, Julius Ceaser, and further back... Or maybe it never has been and jokes on us. But this is not a new thought or revelation to me. I've always known most people were shit, most people are self serving and ugly, and if you find good ones like Aragron, they are rare. But again, people are human and it is the way it is and all you can do is expect the worst and hope for the best. 

Today. Is. Not. One. Of. Those. Days. Today... today I would sit back with nice cold glass of water, a hand fan with my cats in my lap, my wife and closest friends, choice family next to me and watch this entire world burn and not to do a damn thing to stop it. At least that's what I'd like to think. It certainly appeals to the need for vengeance. 

I've read some shit lately that, if even one hint of it is true- and as more time passes, it's looking more and more like it is true- yes I will be cryptic- then my inner need for vengeance is screaming and raging and flipping tables and lighting fires. I am sure some of that will abate with time. Maybe it won't. But right now I just want to be angry. I just want to wallow in it and decide what to do with it all tomorrow or the next day. 

That reading aside, I have other reasons to want to rage like Grog. There is a person in my local community who is very sick. I used to try and put myself in her shoes, to sympathize with her life struggles, the abuse she says she's suffered. I got red flags early on, having grown up around some very questionable people, but I quieted it, trying to give her some space to settle down because of all the shit she was dealing with and all that stuff was A LOT!  I wouldn't expect anyone to be completely sane after just the medical shit let alone the abuse she said she's lived through. However, everything imploded when another friend set a boundary that was repeatedly ignored. Hell, I set a quiet boundary that was blatantly ignored time and time again. Since then, this individual has behaved like a stalker, tried to get to the one who set the boundary through other people and any avenue she could, involved people who have no idea what the hell is going on 'to make them fix it'. She has no remorse, refuses to take responsibility for her actions and its sick. 

A cease and desist order has been issued. It's really fucked up. I told my wife, who is frankly shocked that this is even happening, that she hasn't actually had to deal with real crazy and I know why that is. I am a whale with resting bitch face and when I dress in my goth clothes and make up, people find me scary or at least unapproachable. But she scares a lot of people away with her loud, spazzy antics. Crazy wants stable, not competition. So we've been fortunate to not have had to run into it in long time. Never thought I would ever think of my wife's brand of silly, obnoxious, antics as the perfect shield, but here we are and yes, I chose this and had 10 years to bail but still married her anyway. I guess I actually love her.  But all levity aside, this too makes me sad because it's getting a little scary and frightening to see the friend who laid the boundary have to deal with this all while dealing with so much of her own stuff. Boundary friend has had some heavy losses, is dealing with losing a family member as we speak mentally and physically, and has a very depressed other family member. 

Which leads me to another sadness. I am sad for the loss of a friendship that, in public view is still there and loving, but that I know is a complete lie. I've been deeply hurt by this friend, many times. I know it is my responsibility to speak up, but I have been very afraid to say anything, even thinking that I would be making something out of nothing. I gaslit myself out of fear and years of societal conditioning from shitty people. I will take responsibility for not speaking up, but, if myself or my wife were as important to said friend as they said we were- and they said we were family, which to me is pretty fucking important, then why ignore us? Why invalidate our existence to our faces? Why blow us off and cancel repeatedly?  And I thought I was just being too sensitive, that this friend is very busy and I just need to be chill and be that chill friend who isn't a bother, but they've done it to three other friends and are now doing it another friend and even being just plain mean. It's not just us. Given what I know about this person and the shit they've dealt with, I understand, to a certain degree, the how and why some of this is happening, but still... its upsetting to watch someone else go through the same questions, the same confusion, and the same hurt. I told said friend, 'you know, in a few years from now or maybe several down the line, they will be lonely and won't have any friends left. And that's on them. We may not have done everything we could, but we can only do as much as we have the energy for and it's a fucking two way street". The façade of laid back, easy going perfection isn't worth burning bridges and friendships.

I have some other frustrations and anger over some political shit happening in this country and the disgusting lack of basic knowledge and the willful and deliberate continued ignorance of the people who run this country and that is on both sides of the fucking isle. Your ignorance is not your fault but it is most certainly your responsibility to fix it. Especially when we live in a day and age with libraries and the internet. Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do with or to my body when you don't even know how it fucking works. There is a lot more to that and at least a baker's dozen other issues I could get into, but I won't for now.

My last three sad/ scary things of the day are- no make that 4. The first is that I am sick and that makes me more prone to whining. But I am going to try and get into the doctor for what I think is a chest cold. While I might look some shit up online, I always present it to my doctor and defer to them. Like "I think it might be this, yes, I googled my symptoms, but you went to school and I want your opinion and would like your help to make it better please and thank you".  I actually have a really good doctor right now and I very much appreciate her.  

Okay the 2nd last sad/scary thing. My Grandma has been having some black out spells. She is 95 years old and has had them before. She and my Dad landed in the cardiologist's office and after a 2 and half hour wait, the surgeon came in and told her he thinks she doing everything she can do that is right and to keep on doing what she is doing- taking the best care of herself that she can, resting, monitoring blood pressure and so on. He said he could do a suggested surgery on her but given that she 95 and as we age our hearts get weaker and more fragile, he truly believed he stood a greater chance of losing her on the table than actually helping her. He did say he would do the surgery if she really wanted it. She didn't. They thanked him for his honesty and left.  I know my Grandma has been without Grandpa for several years now and I know she is 95 and we don't have much time with her left, still doesn't make it easy knowing she'll leave us soon as well.  I also pissed her off by telling her I would fight God I would fight him to keep her. She was not impressed. 

And that brings me to my Mom. She had a really bad episode. Dad said she was out longer this time and when she came out of it, she wasn't totally back yet. She could get up and go to the bathroom on her own, but all he could get her to say was that she was okay. But she watched the cable menu screen all day. He said he told the doctor today that he hasn't looked it up, he's in denial- with understandable reasons-, and scared and worried that she may have Alzheimer's. He doesn't know for sure but he said that it's like she just slowly slipping away. That's not my Mom. She doesn't give up. She is a stubborn bitch and will fight tooth and nail. I told him that she told me that she is afraid that when she has these episodes she won't wake up again and it's just now dawning on me that's why she fights going to bed. Probably. It;s fucking scary. No one knows what's wrong. I honestly believe she's had a stroke but no doctor will agree. They say there isn't evidence. If you look at her fucking face, the left side droops a little. Her behavior changed. If not a stroke, then at least some kind of brain injury of some kind. None of this is normal! Never mind that my grandfather had a stroke and if the EMTS hasn't seen him having it, there wouldn't have been any evidence of it by the time they got to the hospital.  Anyway, my Dad said, at this point, he is grasping at straws. The PCP doctor has never seen anything like this. The neurologist exhausted every resource he could before giving up. 

So, yeah. I wish these things weren't happening. I wish I wasn't slowly losing my Grandmother to old age, my mother from who the fuck knows with the medical community saying idk and slamming the door in our faces due to lack of money, and people just suck. I still hold to that if I could live in Rivendell, I would. There are Elves, books, swords, beautiful waterfalls and trees, and they fucking eat vegetables! I wouldn't mind a jaunt to Lolthlorien, the Shire, and even Mirkwood. Could do without the giant spiders though. 

Nope! This just isn't working.

I know I don't get everything I want. I know it doesn't hurt me to want. I've been told "No" so many times in my life that when someone says it, it doesn't really bother me and I am quite comfortable doing without, waiting, or working really hard to get what I want myself. My patience is limited but at the same time large in quantity. I am also pretty resilient most of the time and pretty adaptable. However, today is not my day. 

I don't think my parents actually want to come to my wedding. I don't know what I did wrong. I don't know where I went wrong. Did I really ask too much?

I was never able to get the wedding dress I wanted for lack of funds, sewing experience, and so on. Amanda and I did the best we could with that we had and I am readjusting to make it amazing despite that but it is still a bit upsetting and kind of a disappointment. I'm pretty sure that everyone else will be better dressed than me and look really good in what they will be wearing. I am hugely fat so nothing looks good on me no matter how hard I try. 

I've been fighting with leg swelling since before my hysterectomy and it's only within the last few days that I've had normal sized legs and feet- they looked mottled by the way for which I am talking to my doctor about, could just be from the fibromyalgia but just in case I want her to look at everything. I ordered a size larger than I wear for shoes for my wedding got a decently priced pair even. As in mine were more affordable than Amanda's and hers were even decently priced. Anyway, they arrived today and they don't fit. Amanda and Rachel could put them on, they were snug on them, but for having normal sized feet for once, for my feet being smaller than Amanda's, but I couldn't get my feet in them. 

Why must everything I do or try to do or every "should be beautiful" life event in my life be met with struggle and tears. Why do I have to fight all the time? 

Its not totally doom and gloom. I have some pretty great friends who are making this whole event for Amanda and I not a total wash. I can't even express how much I appreciate and love them for that. I think if it weren't for Amanda and my friends, I don't know that I could do any of it. 

Overloaded, disappointed, and no matter what, I am going to find something positive.

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.