Chaos rules the day

I gathered my strength and drove to the neighboring state for an interview today, and when I got back home my dad and my aunt had taken over my room. They moved all the furniture to the middle of the room and then painted. Everything is piled high, but luckily I had most of it in boxes in storage already.

"I want them to start in your room first," dad says. Which is good, because then they'll be out of my room first and I can re-arrange it the way I want. But they took down the curtain. So I'm sitting here exposed to the street. We're on the 6th floor, but it's pretty much at eye level with the hill in front of the apartment building. The building across the street was torn down, so I have a nice view of the office building two streets away. I bet the cleaning ladies don't care what I'm up to, but it's creepy to be so exposed. I don't even know where the curtains are, or I'd put them back up.

So I went to therapy. "My life is chaos. I want to cry. I think the meds are working, cause I'm not suicidal, but I sure as hell am depressed." And Julie gave me the speech: there are people worse off than you, you have a lot going for you, the universe is aligning to help you out, blah blah blah, go buy yourself flowers. So I did. Pretty, purple tulips.

I wandered the aisles of CVS for over an hour and bought all sorts of shit I didn't need, like new lipstick, and shit I did, like travel size contact cleaner. Then I went to the grocery store and bought 100-calorie packs of Oreos and some ice cream. I grabbed the flowers and, feeling a little better, walked home.

I get home and dad says, "Aren't you allergic to flowers? I am. Your mom is, too." No, actually, I'm cool. I can't stand the high perfumey ones, but tulips are fine. Then he tries to talk to me about moving stuff again, and how I need to put more stuff in boxes. So I ran away and took a nice hot shower. I even shaved my legs and then plucked my eyebrows. Self care. A little self-love.

And I still feel insane. I need to move out and be in control of my own life again!

A little folded slice of life

I'm getting the remnants off the floor and surfaces before the floor people make it to my room, and I was taking out the trash when I found a piece of paper on the floor, all folded in fours. I put down the trash and unfolded it. "To whomever is listening, this is a note. Nothing more, nothing less." I found a suicide note from God knows when. How strange to find it just sitting there on my bed. It must have fallen out of something else, but what? Where did it come from? It's not dated, either, but it's signed, and the handwriting is strangely mine. It's calm handwriting, but slightly manic. With flourishes. It's too pretty.

I suppose I've been living in this room, off and on, for 15 years now. It could be from college, or it could have fallen out of something from high school. I've moved ever era of my life out of this room in the past week. Anything could have been unearthed.

How sad, too. How sad that I always feel this way. That nothing can make it stop; this pattern of self-love and self-hatred will always continue. Amazing the capabilities of the human brain. My beautiful, defective, human brain.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My card from Michael. Love it.

Spring has sprung

It's an absolutely beautiful day outside. We even have the sliding glass door open here to let the breeze in. It sure doesn't feel like February.

I tried all my pants on this morning, and they zip, but they create the dreaded muffin top. I have 3 pair that fit alright, so that's what I'm going to be rotating between. That, and mumus.

Add all that up and you would think I'd be out there running today. I have to make it at least 12 miles this week sometime, just to get ready for the marathon I'm not going to finish. But I'm here, on the bed, typing, as usual. I'm just feeling overwhelmed by everything; so much so that all I want to do is nap. And then I wonder why I can't sleep at night. I didn't even get up till 2 today. It's only 4. How can I possibly want a nap?

Trust

"You never reach out. You can lean on other people, you know."

I keep hearing this lately. But really, what are they going to do? You know what my problem is? And my aunt told me this; I don't want to get close to anyone because I think they're going to leave. I just don't trust anyone.

You know who I do trust? My tattoo artist. Isn't that odd? I mean, I pay the man to do a job, and he does and excellent job, so I trust him. He's not going to fire me for being a bad canvas. And I tip really well. I trust him so much that I've let him cover 1/3 of my body in art, and I'm letting him have free reign with this next one. I don't even know what it looks like and yet I scheduled a time to go in and get it started. I just gave him the perimeters and let him get creative.

Is that sad? I trust my tattoo artist the most?

Eat to feel better

So I just had another Cadbury Egg. I think it may have been my second one. And then I got the sugar shakes, so what did I do? I had cereal. Because eating makes everything better. Jesus, no wonder I'm getting fat! I eat to make things feel better! And man, do I want to eat right now. Everything is crap. I'm trapped in this house. I can't move out, and it's driving me mad.

The floors get started tomorrow, so the chaos is only beginning. I'm thinking of going to the local coffee shop with my iPad and just hanging out all day. I don't care if I have to spend money, I don't know if I can sit here with a bunch of strangers ripping up carpet in the next room.

I need a job. The little grocery store job is good - I made $500 towards my next tattoo - but it's just not the same. And I don't have a set schedule. It's just work every now and again when he feels like taking off and playing golf. I like to have a schedule; to know what I'm up against. I like to plan.

And maybe that's what bugs me most about my whole situation. I can't even plan. I don't know any of the perimeters, so I can't guess at the others. Damnit.

Postsecrets this week

I totally do this! I have one from my dad and one from my grandma, just in case.