writing

I'm sort of back in a writing phase. Things are coming to me that seem to be forming into a cohesive story. I don't know if they'll lead anywhere or if they'll just end up a jumble of catchy quotes somewhere on my hard drive or my flash drive. I guess we'll see.

My therapist wants me to work up some sort of interview with Sherman Alexie. I don't think that I can do that. I'm not really the interviewing type and it would be mondo uncomfortable for me. I know that I'm supposed to push my boundaries, but that's sorta exploding them. I know that I can claim a family relationship with him, but I really don't think that I would be comfortable interviewing him, considering I don't ever go over that way. and my native american-ness is sort of only skin deep. They call it living in two worlds, I call it being trapped in two worlds, belonging to neither. I don't know that I live in either, but I know that I'll die in one of them.

Is laying in bed wishing hard that you wouldn't wake up the next morning suicidal?
If you die in your sleep, do you live forever in your dreams?

I think I'm having a rough period right now.

agoraphobia

Why is it that when there's news, I always assume it's bad news? I have a registered letter at the post office. I'm sure it's a nasty letter from the credit union because I'm behind in payments and my insurance has lapsed. I don't know how it lapsed, but it did, and now I'm having a problem because I can't go take a picture of my house. I have to take a couple pictures that show all four sides of my house. I can't bear the thought of going outside of my house for longer than it takes to get to my car. Maybe I'm agoraphobic in addition to the rest of the lovely peck of problems running around in my head. I don't like being outside. I used to enjoy it. I even remember one memorable night, in the rain, on the hood of my car...but that's another tale from another life. One when I actually could spend time outside.

Thinking about it, that's the only time I spend outside, when I'm walking between my car and somewhere else. I wonder what that means.

Pizza

Why is leftover pizza so damned good?

I mean...it's always awesome when it's fresh. You're listening to a woman who hasn't met a pizza she couldn't find some redeeming feature about, but leftover is always good.

It's a good breakfast, lunch, snack, or dinner.

Sadly, my six year old disagrees.

Tiredness

Am I tired because I'm really tired or am I tired of just being where I am. Is it a physical tiredness or an existential exhaustion?

I think it's a combination of both. I don't get enough sleep to make me happy, although I think that my desire for sleep is a function of my depression. I sleep from 5-7 hours a night, and occasionally take naps during the afternoon.

I look around at my house and think that I must be the biggest slob in the world, but then I remember sometimes at my siblings house. I'm definitely not the worst person for cleaning. I'm not the best either. I think that if I could get it done once, I might be able to keep it up, but it hasn't been fully cleaned since I moved in. Things just keep getting shuffled around.

Sometimes I feel like there are gremlins in my house that make messes just for me to find. Then I realize it's just one gremlin, my daughter.

Generality

Today is going to be a beautiful day. I don't feel it, but I can see it. The sky is blue and the sun is shining. I can see and appreciate the beauty of the day, but I don't feel that it's something that's going to improve my day any more than a rainstorm will darken my day. Every day is pretty much a day that somethings going to happen or it's not. Today, I'll go to work, work, and come home. Today's pretty much like any other day. How does that make me feel? rather numb.

Medicine

I've recently applied for disability for severe depression and anxiety. I'm waiting for my first denial, as I've heard they typically deny you at least three times and you must appeal until it's approved.

I'm on a fairly high dose of antidepressant and I'm also taking antipsychotics to help with the anxiety and have an antianxiety med to go along when those two aren't enough. These pills help me maintain a semblance of normalcy. When I take them, I only feel slightly crazy. When I am stupid and miss my meds for a few days, it's like...The Titanic. It's all fun and games until the switch is flipped and I'm streaming tears, screaming, and clawing at my flesh like it's going to make it all better.

My daughter is also on medication for ADHD. She's very active ALL the time. If she's not moving, it means she's asleep, usually. One little pill and she's very calm, cool, collected and obedient.

It really becomes a problem when my pills are wearing off and I forget to give her one. Then I just start wanting to send her off to live in outer Siberia. I've heard the tundra is quite nice in the springtime. I'm sure it would only take her a few months to build a house and have it equipped with satellite TV and internet. She's a crafty lil devil. I think she gets it from her absent father. I'm certainly not that industrious. I'm much more lackadaisical. Probably why I keep getting those damned late notices. I think the only thing I won't be late for is the time of my death. I probably won't be able to put that one off.

Anyway, my meds are holding and I'm just waiting for her little pill to kick in.

Tonights movies

Tonight I invited my sister and her daughters over for a scary movie night. I'm pms'ing like a raging water buffalo who's been wounded on a field of battle, so of course I wanted some blood and gore. The first movie we watched was Sorority Row. I'll have to admit, there were some plot twists that I really didn't see coming. Death by bottle was done in a new and inventive way, so kudos for that. Our second movie was Jennifer's Body. Definitely one to watch out for. It was a little slow starting, with a little too much exposition at the front, but it really made a lot of stuff make sense later, which is, of course, why they do that! Horror fans, if you haven't seen it, I suggest that you put it on your to rent list. It's a keeper.

My place in the world

I understand somewhat about why I'm so lost. I know who I'm supposed to be. I'm the daughter of a Native American leader. I'm supposed to be the traditional girl who beads and dances. I'm supposed to speak my fathers language. I'm supposed to know how to tan hides and make dry meat. I'm none of those things. I bead. That's about it. I don't dance, I don't speak more than a handful of words of what is considered my "native" language. Tanning hides is smelly and kinda gross if you know the mechanics. My main interest in dry meat is eating it. I'm a white girl living a native girls life.

Who am I? I'm the chubby chat chick you laugh about. I'm the one who sits at home with a bag of doritos instead of going to the movies. I'd rather talk to people through my keyboard than in person. If I have to talk to "real" people, I tend to have panic attacks. How sad is that? My house is a mess, and that bugs me, but not enough to get up and clean it. I'm lazy too. A lot of the time, cleaning seems rather useless to me. I have a six year old child and she's got a very destructive attitude toward the world. If it's somewhere, it needs to be somewhere else, usually the middle of the floor. I guess I can blame genetic messiness on it.

I get up, play world of warcraft, send my daughter off to school, WoW some more, go to work, come home, feed the kidlet, and play wow until time to go to bed. Am I addicted to WoW? yes, I am. I feel that it's better than being addicted to alcohol or drugs. I'm here, physically with my child. She never has to worry if mommy's coming home tonight. Is it a perfect solution? No. I need something to engage my mind while I sit at home all night. I can only take so much of Barbie Fairytopia before I feel an insane desire to slash my wrists and paint the walls with my blood. I certainly think that Wow is healthier than that.

Mini Me

I know the joke is horribly old and not even very funny anymore, but I have one of the Mini computers. Mine happens to be a Gateway. I like it. It's small, it's cute, and most of all, it allows me to write from pretty much anywhere. At the moment I'm at home, so I won't be using it, as I have the powerful desktop at my disposal, but there may be times that I'm half asleep and want to write something down (I type better than I write when I'm half asleep), and it'll be here for all to see. Isn't that special? doesn't it just make you go "ooh!"? Yeah. I thought so.

Anyway, I may post some of my stories here at a later time. They all currently come with some form of warning or other. Please be aware that I don't kid about my warnings. If I mention that there's sex in there, believe it and cover your eyes or the eyes of someone you love. It could get messy!

Now if I could just figure out how to get myself to do this on a daily basis, my therapist wouldn't have to give me that "Oh, you didn't write again this week" look.

I need to remember to buy some unflavored yogurt so that I can try it in some curry. What kind of curry is good other than chicken? I've been eating a lot of chicken lately and am about to start growing feathers. Of course, horns would be worse. Maybe I'd be cute with a curly-q tail.

I'm missing my brother, and not just because I have errands for him to run. I miss him because, oddly enough, he's a voice of reason for me, and I know he just wants to smack me upside the head. I miss him anyway.

So anyway.

I don't know how this is supposed to work, but apparently this is to be the new outlet for my therapy. My counselor wants me to be able to speak my thoughts and let my words be heard by anyone who cares to listen (or read). Rather than anything else, I think I'll do it here so that I can have some sort of record of my inane and insane ramblings. This weeks assignment is to do a movie review or two or ten, so look for something soon.

S.