I could scream

This blog post I'm actually writing at work. In an email. To myself. Mainly because our work computers are assholes and have to run the oldest version of internet explorer known to man which OF COURSE doesn't support blogger. So I'm writing it in an email to copy and paste to my blog. Awesome.

 

Well, now down to business. I've been a bit . . .off lately. I don't know. I'm not even sure how to explain it. J had noted that I was being neurotic and frantic about things - several things - and now that he's pointed it out, I'm becoming more aware of it. More aware of my rapid, spiraling thinking. More aware of a mild anxiety that never seems to leave. More aware of this need to get ALL the things done and do them NOW. And let's be honest - it's annoying. Couple this with my stupid cough and congestion that won't leave and my lack of sleep because of it and you've got a not-good situation.

 

And so what should we do? I know! Let's add in money woes as well! Yay!! $1100 for the timing belt in my truck with another $1000 of work still needing to be done. Then yesterday morning (at 1am no less) our washing machine became possessed and died. That's a minimum of $250 for repair (if it's something simple) or upwards of $700-800 for a new one. We just renewed my license plates ($275) and of course, Christmas is coming. Wonderful.

 

J let me know about the truck costs today and it just . . . I don't know. I was pissed and upset and depressed and worried . . .and everything in between. My thinking and mood began its downward spiral. Everything is pointless anyway. We should just put the house up for sale, buy a smaller one in the process, and foreclose on the first one - we won't be able to sell it anyway, not in this market. Our credit might be shitty for awhile but we'll have a smaller house payment. I can try to pick up as many extra shifts as I can, too. Who cares if it stresses me out  - I'm on pills, aren't I? And in the middle of all this FUCK everything else. Nothing else matters anyway.

 

This thinking . . .is bad. And I have a hard time stopping it. And what's worse? This wasn't everything going through my head. The other thing, the thing that made me feel like complete shit, is about my paintings. J said that I could go ahead and have my paintings proffesionally scanned. That way I could give copies to Dr. C and M to use in a presentation. That way I could work on selling prints and making a book with them. That way, with the help of Dr. C, I could maybe get them published in a bipolar magazine. I was excited about that. Soooo very excited.

 

The problem? It's going to cost $240 to have them scanned. $240 that, in light of everything else going on, I shouldn't spend. But the thing is, I want to. I don't think anyone understands how important this is for me. J might, I think he does, but think of how much money we're spending this month already. And I feel guilty and selfish and like a complete ass hat if I even bring it up. I don't want to bring it up for the fear of being seen as selfish. And that's how I feel. Like a selfish brat whinning if she doesn't get what she wants. And I HATE that. So much. And I sit here torn as to what to do. Do I ask J and risk him getting frustrated with me? Do I wait and lose the opportunity of having Dr. C and M being able to use them?

 

And so here I sit, feeling like a selfish tit and realizing that this whole post makes me look like a selfish tit. And so I do what I do best - I berate myself, and I fume over my shortcomings and my selfishness and my inability to NOT over react and my eventual moodswings that will arise from all of this because I can't control anything.

 

And then I cried. In the report room. And I felt like shit after. And I went about my day feigning happiness. And I don't want to tell anyone about this but I write it here because I really do. My apparent frantic neuroticism spills over into everything, it seems. I wish J hadn't pointed it out but I'm glad he did. If I'm aware of it, I guess I can learn to control it. Before I was aware I was in ignorant bliss. I don't know which is better, really.

 

So yes. I'm a selfish tit. I hate how my mind works right now - I have no idea what's going on or why it's happening. More importantly, I'm a tit. Let's not forget that.

Edit: Before posting this when I got home, I read it. And it's pretty self deprecating. And not how I should be thinking. I thought about not posting it. I thought about  rewriting it. Instead, I posted it as it was. Why? Because it's exactly how I feel. Good or bad, I'll post how I feel and what's going on. No sense in lying.