It's too much

I have too much coming at me right now. It's a constant stream of endless opinions and thoughts and feelings and information and anger and just everything all at once. I can't handle this anymore.

A fight on my Facebook about gun control. Who's wrong and who's right? I'm fucking right because in my brain, that's how I feel. Who the fuck are you to come into my space and tell me I am wrong?

A fight on LSG about flu vaccinations. I am ROASTED and made to feel like shit because I don't get them. Everyone else's reasons for getting the vaccine is right, I am completely wrong, no questions asked.  The mods don't even give a fuck.

I can't go anywhere anymore. All I do is complain when I do land somewhere. I hate myself, the furnace is broken and we don't have the money to fix it, a winter storm is moving in, I hate myself, guns guns guns guns, rights, fuck. I am tired of fighting.

Earlier today, Kevin Smith posted that part of Hollywood was shut down because of an attempted suicide. He tweeted a picture of the person on the roof of a tall building, with a big inflatable mattress ting on the ground below. My first thought was: Why can't they just let them be? Why can't someone just be left alone?

I'm not saying that people don't deserve a special kind of attention when they are in that state. I'm not getting into that. What I am getting into is that once someone has made the decision, why can't people just let them be? The decision has been made. If you have never been in that place, never felt that helpless, then I can't help you to understand. But how someone feels afterward, how they feel when suddenly all of the attention is on them, the guilt they feel for making people worry, for hurting people, the shame they have afterward, the hurt and the pain and the absolute hopelessness coming back from an attempt... Sometimes I think it would just be better if they were left alone.

There is a forest in Japan where people go to kill themselves. People walk in with a rope leading out of the forest so they can either find their way back out if they don't, or so their bodies can be found if they do. Apparently there is a caretaker of the forest that has become a sort of guide for the lost souls. He talks to them, and tries to talk them out of it, but doesn't always succeed.

This isn't going to be noticed by anyone. I'm not going to post it on facebook. I need help. Why can'y I get help?

Funk and Bond Girls

5 years ago today, something very bad happened to my family. I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I never talk about it. Let's move on.

Today I woke up in a bit of a funk. Maybe it's memories, subconsciously weighing on my brain and ringing my eardrums like triangles. Maybe it's low blood sugar. Maybe it's too much sleep. It's actually probably all three.

I'm shaking and my head feels like it's about 5 lbs heavier than it should be. I feel a manic cycle starting. Or ending. Or something. I feel frenzied, like my nerves are dancing relentlessly through my body and not staying put where they belong. Wandering around at all hours. Just generally being dicks.

I can't decide. I've started two new knitting projects today (hexapuffs and some handspun mitts). Pictures will come up later. I'm too hot. The A/C is on as are all the fans in the house. I have a tank top on. I don't like how my arms feel naked. Therefore, I put on a long-sleeved shirt over my tank. But it's open-buttoned and only half sleeved. Were I not writing right now, I would go upstairs and put on yet another shirt over the others. It makes too much sense to just wear one layer.

There is a Bond film in which some babe is all painted gold. Don't fuss at me for not knowing anything more specific than that- I've never seen a Bond film, nor have I had the desire to. At any rate, she complained of her body temperature going up during filming due to the gold paint trapping her heat against her body. Even though she was mostly naked, she was boiling in her own skin. Mythbusters did their take on it and determined it to be a valid claim.

I think that the same can be said of contacts. I sleep with mine in regularly, and it seems that the longer I have them in, the worse my head feels. Not just pressure on the eyes or sinuses or even brain pain, but just an overwhelming feeling of crappiness. After Basic Training, I once kept the same pair of contacts in for a year and 3 months straight. No, really. I didn't take them out to wash them, sanitize them, wiggle them around, they never popped out, nothing. At just about the one year mark, I started to have what I call "brain zaps." Kind of that sudden rush of vertigo and rushing sound in your ears that is related to pre-syncope. It happened to me several times a day. My only explanation was that my contacts were making me feel like shit.

So maybe I need to go take my contacts out. I feel awful today regardless, but I'd like something to lessen the suffering. Things need to slow up a little, I think.

Fuck my body

And not in the literal sense.

The pompholyx is taking over my entire body. I'd put up pictures, but I'm not sure I'm ready to share them yet. They are quite disgusting. I don't know why I keep taking said pictures, but I've got a camera-roll's worth of them on my phone.

Andy got paid today, so we could go grocery shopping. Groceries consisted of milk, bread, and about 20 packages of ramen. It's a good thing that Andy and I both like ramen. And frozen pizza. Does anyone else remember when Totino's pizza were $.98? Those bastards are $1.25 now. Too expensive for us these days. However, Mr. P's makes an acceptable 98 cent pizza, which we stock up on every time we get paid.

Unfortunately, we're overdrafted about $150. I had to go to the Dr. today because my fucking arms and face and neck, chest, legs, tummy, etc are itching like motherfuckers and becoming a bit of a concern. That's $40. $40 to have my nurse practitioner tell me she didn't know what it was so she would treat it like contact dermatitis (allergies basically) and prescribed some bastard ass pills I have to take 6 times a day for the first 4 days, then on some crazy fucking cycle adding up to 48 pills over 12 days. Also, some cream that is supposed to help with the itching.. oh and cost $40 more. Awesome. Plus I needed a refill on my zoloft, bringing our grand total for the day (including groceries) to roughly $175.

Andy's paycheck is mostly gone, then. I get paid tomorrow, but we have a mortgage payment to take care of before we get paid again, so we'll have about $200 for bills until 2 weeks from now. Too bad our bills due within the next 14 days are roughly $600-700. Hoo boy. Creative problem solving at it's best. What can go? What can we be late on? How long are the grace periods for each individual biller? I would start selling body parts/organs but I'm tainted with ebola aids apparently, so who wants that?

On a slightly brighter note, I might have a cleaning lady gig coming my way. I am excellent at cleaning other people's homes. Need someone to clean up for you? Fuck yeah, I'll do it! At this point I would accept payment in the form of food. Need your laundry done? That'll cost you a couple of potatoes. Dishes? No problem. Give me some cheese. Nothing fancy either really, just the yellow kind would do. Fuck, even American processed cheese product would work.

Andy's job opportunity seems to be slipping away. I'm at the point where I feel like I am drowning. He was told when he had his interview 2 weeks ago that they would call him last week. They didn't call. he called them, the guy he interviewed with specifically said he would call Andy on Monday (the 1st) and set up a follow-up interview. Andy heard nothing until he called them AGAIN today and the guy on the phone said some other governing body set up the second interviews and he should hear something next week.

For fuck's sake.

Edited to add: the 6-a-day meds I am on have the following side effects:

"Difficulty sleeping; feeling of a whirling motion; increased appetite; increased sweating; indigestion; mood changes; nervousness."


That's like every day of my life. Maybe my body naturally produces it and I'm a medical miracle.

Thin Skin: Day 1

Can you count the number of open wounds on your body? I can't.

I'm not talking about thin skin in the emotional sense, but rather in the epidermal sense. Needless to say, it sucks. I have a form of eczema- Pompholyx - that attacks my fingers on a regular basis, and I am beginning to suspect I have other forms/presentations of the affliction as well. I itch all the time. There is never a waking moment in which I am not aware of something irritating my skin.

I have a rather large wound on my ankle, which is a result of my scratching and scratching and scratching. At first I thought it was flea bites, to which I am very allergic, but it's been happening all over without any sign of bites as of late.

It's awful.

I fear the itch. 

Last night, in a fit of desperation, I ran across the road to Wal-Mart and got some Gold Bond Aloe and E body wash along with some Oatmeal and something else lotion by Aveeno. I've used the lotion twice, which alleviated my itchiness for a little while at least. I've just now used the body wash and hoping to see improvement over the coming days.