Coffee and a Cigarette


Simple questions get long winded answers here.
January 13, 2011, 8:49 pm
Filed under: Bad Days, Things About Me | Tags: , , , , ,

What made you decide to start a blog? If you’ve blogged about this before, go back and read it. Is that still the reason? What’s changed?

I have, actually blogged about this before. I started this blog for purely selfish reasons. I don’t really care if I get readers (though don’t be fooled I love it when you come by), and I don’t do this for money. I do this for my mental health. Writing has always helped me sort out my brain, even when it has nothing to do with my current issues. I used to keep a journal, but I want to take it public, so the baring of my soul wouldn’t be only for a journal. I want people to see this.

I started this one sleepless and horrible night. I spent the night clutching onto my husband (who was sleeping heavily) crying and scared. I was having a freak out. I came to the horrible realization that one day, I was going to die. And not just me, my husband, my family, my friends, my animals, we are all going to die. And that scares the living hell out of me. And sometimes that fear sneaks in out of nowhere and paralyzes me.

My husband, he tries so hard to help me, but all he can really do is be there to catch my tears, and hold onto me when I feel like I’m just losing my mind. And it helps a lot, but I can’t calm down until I’ve written about it. Thus, this was born.

I don’t have a plan for this blog, I never did. I just wanted something to help me when I needed it, and for now this works. One day, I will get a psychiatrist or something, but I can’t afford that now. So for now, I just cope.

Adrienne



Snow!

Perhaps I am a bear, or some hibernating animal underneath, for the instinct to be half asleep all winter is so strong in me.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

I really, really don’t like the winter. I don’t like the cold, I don’t like the dark, and I don’t like feeling like crud all winter long because I forgot to bring my coat to work 2 weeks ago. I get all itchy, my skin dries up. For some reason I get a fever every other day, and my lips chap up like a mofo. Not to mention the cold sores I’m already plagued with. My body is like a battlefield and it’s losing the weather! DAMN YOU JANUARY! I can’t drive anywhere, because I live up on a mountain. And when it snows, or rains, it gets frozen, and we don’t have a road service in Rednecklandia. I drive a mid-late ’80s sports car that’s rear wheel drive. There’s no way I’m making it up or down this mountain.

Most of winter has lost it’s magic for me. I used to love the snow. I used to love the exhilaration of going outside when it was 20 degrees out in a tank top and shorts and run around in it. The burn in my lungs and the loss of feeling in my limbs. I don’t enjoy these things any more. I’m watching my childish pleasures slip away from me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And frankly, it’s depressing as hell.

Snow. I still love snow, but I don’t get excited for it like I used to. When the forecast says, “Snow.” The first thoughts that run through my mind look something like this:

“How am I going to get to work? What if I can’t, can I afford to miss work? Do I have enough food? Will the power get knocked out? Will I get to play in it? Yay! Snow! Oh, shit, snow is cold. Why do I like it?!”

Being an adult is really knocking the fun out of a lot of the simpler pleasures in life. It is filled to brimming with worries and anxieties that are probably left alone. I can worry about all those things all I want, but if those things happen, they happen and there’s nothing I can do. Yet, still I worry. Adulthood sucks. In fact, you know what? I should be outside playing in the snow until my nose is running blood. But I’m comfortable here in my warmth.

I guess, this year, I’m not so excited by the snow because I’m holding a grudge against it. Yes, that’s right, a grudge against snow. The snow prevented me from seeing my family this year. They were at my house! And I was not. Snow on Christmas day effectively made it the worse Christmas I have ever experienced. Even worse than that Christmas my sister threw a dress up shoe at my head and made me bleed everywhere. I don’t usually have bad Christmas’s. I’ve had a fairly good and nurturing childhood. Even though my family has generally always lived under the poverty level, and I never really got cool toys for Christmas, I always understood what my parents were doing for me.

Maybe I’ll go outside here in the dark and make a snowman. But I probably won’t. Blasted cold.

Adrienne



Fears
October 25, 2010, 9:27 pm
Filed under: Bad Days, Things About Me | Tags: , , , , , , ,

“The fear of death is more to be dreaded than fear itself.”

Publilius Syrus

 

I am afraid of dying. It keeps me up at night. Last night, while my husband slept, I held onto him and cried, because I knew that one day, I would lose him. Sometimes, it just hits me so hard it is absolutely debilitating. I am afraid of dying. I am afraid that the people I love will die. I think it’s irrational sometimes. Like a phobia. I have always been this way. I used to have (and I use this term hesitantly) out of body experiences. I would feel hell, I would see it. I was there. And it always scared me so tremendously that I literally could not do anything all day, but reassure myself that I have plenty of time to figure it out.

But what if I don’t? I could die right now. There are meth addicts in the area, what if one  breaks in and attacks me? (See how my root fear of death sprouts other slightly more irrational fears?) What if I have a terminal illness that has been slowly killing me since I was a child (and maybe I’ve been watching too much House)? Car wreck? Allergic reaction? Sometimes, I forget to breath, what if I forget how to breath for long enough to suffocate? I do realize that some of these may seem silly to you, but when you’re in the middle of a full blown panic attack, nothing is silly. It is all very serious.

I’m afraid of dying. I’m afraid of hell, I’m afraid that there is nothing, and I think I might be afraid of heaven. Is it because I don’t know what to expect? Maybe, or partly yes. I am afraid that the people I love won’t be there. Wherever I go after my heart stops beating, I don’t want to be alone.

I’m afraid that it just ends. What if I just cease to exist? Does that mean I didn’t have a soul after all? I think I have a soul. I guess I can’t prove it, but I still believe I do.

Every time I go through an episode, I start doubting everything I believe so heavily, it breaks my heart. I don’t know what to do? Do I seek professional help? I can’t afford it. But maybe I need it? I dunno.

I don’t have any answers, and if anybody, absolutely anybody has any input, please give it to me. Even if I don’t agree with your point of view, I would love to see it. Maybe it will help my perspective.