SubscribeFor the last month or so I have been laying in bed every night, fighting to overcome all my imagined stress, and figure out a way to fall blissfully into the nothingness of sleep. I’ve come up with quite an awesome coping strategy, I lay there and write posts for this blog in my head. They are all funny and insightful and irreverent…all the things that have made me the famous blogger that I am. And every night as I finally drift off I promise myself to remember that post, and for THE LOVE of Peter, Paul and Mary, I will post it in the morning! (this is the part that is making you feel good. I am writing to you guys. A ton. Sweet Jesus, a ton.)
I think by now you get the part where, by the time the harsh light of the sun and the sound of the alarm comes my way I have completely forgotten the post I wrote in my head the night before. It’s gone, and I am back on planet Earth, where I have imagined that NOTHING IS GOING RIGHT FOR ME. And where I know how to be dramatic, for shits sake. I realize that the obvious solution to my forgetfulness is to have my laptop actually IN FRONT of me when I am writing. But that would just be too easy, wouldn’t it? And I’m hell bent on making life as hard as possible for myself. It’s my mission statement: Be miserable or die trying. And of course, never forget to be dramatic.
The kids are finishing school this week, and we are headed off on a sweet vacation south of the border. And this little vacation is causing me more stress and anxiety than I have had in ever so long. Vacation! I should be excited and relaxed and motherfucking stress free, at the prospect of vacation. I swear to Bob, I wish I had a new brain.
I kinda feel better now though, after writing this and actually typing it out and all. It feels good to get it out there, my craziness. I read somewhere that depressed people shouldn’t isolate themselves, because it only makes things worse. Sadly isolation is one of the things I know how to do very well. So thanks for being there for me readers, all 10 of you, even if it’s just passively ‘being there’. Thanks for being my support system when I actually take the time to put my fingers to the keyboard. Now, don’t y’all feel better?
Stardust,
Sorry about your troubles with you sister. I think that is a big reason why I tend to feel so isolated, because who I am and who my extended family want me to be are so different. It keeps us from being close and often feels like an elephant that is in the room when we are together. It sucks. Also they all live hundreds of miles away from me, so that makes getting together for even birthdays and holidays impossible. Plus we have never been the kind of family that communicates in a healthy way, if at all really. Blarg!
I hope once I get to our destination I will relax and have a good time. And hopefully I’ll have some good pictures to post too.
Thanks!
danica,
I know what you mean about feeling like an elephant is in the room. It’s a good analogy of what it feels like sometimes — Lucky, for the most part, most of my family gets along and religion or non-religion isn’t an issue and is a personal thing.
I will be looking forward to the pictures when you get back. I know they will be good ones so hope you post lots of them. :- D
Danica, do any of your family members know about your blog and if so, do any of them obsess about some of the things you write here and take it personally?
a friend was google’ing for something I posted and came across your website. Very nice.
No, my family doesn’t yet know about this blog or what I write here. I’m sure it would be very upsetting to them to know how I really think and feel about things. Isn’t that crazy? Maybe I’m being naive, but I feel somewhat safe and annomous here. It’s pretty important for me right now to be able to write how I feel without having to worry what my family will think. Yet, I find there are still things I don’t write about here, and I’m not sure why, maybe I’m just not ready.
Thanks Shumpy! I had no idea there was another Shumpy in the world. When my daughter was little she had trouble saying words with the letter J, such as just and jumping. For her just was “shus” and jumping was “shumpy”. So my husband starting calling me Shumpy for a nick name, and I use it here as a category for posts that relate to myself.