A Better Day

Since I’ve pretty much gotten it into my head that I need to write everyday, no matter how I am feeling and it doesn’t matter on the amount of verbal crap I may spew, I know it’s good for me to get my feelings out- whether it be on here or in a notebook. I wrote a huge rant in a notebook, two pages long and it felt good for me to get it out of my system and into some kind of tangible form. I’ve known since I was a small child that I loved to write, and I’ve always found that it’s a good way for me to express what I’m feeling at that point in time.

I also watched ‘Prozac Nation’ recently, and I really relate to Elizabeth Wurtzel because I feel that she had a similar experience going through early adulthood as I did. She’s also a published writer, and just watching that movie made me feel bad because I realised that I don’t write as much as I should. I know that I have the talent to express myself with words, so I’m just chalking it up to sheer laziness. That and the fact that I keep thinking that whatever I write has to actually make sense and stuff. Which is not the truth. Sometimes I just write down random song lyrics into a notebook and I could look back at it in a week, and wonder what the heck was going through my head.

But because of me writing again, it’s really helping to clear my thoughts and help me to think rationally again. Meds would probably help me further, but because we have no health insurance as a family…I guess my own forms of therapy will have to do for now.

Let Me Out!

Today I’m having a day where I’m not really sure what I want to do with myself but mope around the house and feel sorry for myself. It just seems to be one thing after another, and I’m at my wits end because I’m starting to think that it’s all my fault.

Abby’s been really bratty recently, and it really makes me feel like a bad parent because I’m convinced that it has to be something that I’m doing wrong- since I’m the one parent who spends the most time with her. Nick got really annoyed by this attitude of mine, so he stormed off to the bar where I imagine he is drinking bottle after bottle of beer. As he said, “you don’t drive me to drink, but you sure make it easier.” How on earth do you think that makes me feel as a person, a wife and a mother? It makes me feel even worse, that’s what.

I skipped out on teaching Sunday School this morning (I’ve started teaching Abby’s class with another woman.) Because the other teacher was there, I knew I’d be able to stay in bed and sleep more…which I knew last night would be what I wanted to do in the morning. It also gave me a chance to take a shower and get dressed at a reasonable pace, instead of speeding through the house like the Tasmanian Devil at 100mph and tossing everything aside in my path. We were still later than I would have liked, but I was there. We were clean and presentable, and isn’t that all that matters? Sure I was there dressed down (not the hoodie and sneakers like I said I might) but there’s people there who were more dressed down than me. Heck, I looked like I was going for a night at the Ritz compared to some of the congregation. My hair was damp and pulled back, so I looked a little different but I honestly have given up caring what people think of me a long time ago.

I honestly just wish there was a way out of my mood that I seem to be currently trapped in. I know that I could take meds, but I’ve been down that roas before and they turn me into a faceless member of society…what the rest of the world would consider to be ‘normal’. Screw being normal, I find normal boring and dull. If I wanted to be boring and dull, I would be the atypical 1950’s housewife that bakes pies, makes cocktails and entertains the bridge meeting over at her charming family house.

I am not that person.

Rebellious Streak

Tomorrow is Sunday, the day of the week that everyone expects me to behave like a complete angel and not be the raving lunatic that I know that I am. Today I had a really horrible day where everything pissed me off no end, Abby was being a pain in my ass wanting my attention all the time and I just wanted to be left the hell alone. Nick knew this and so I slept for about two hours this afternoon, just so I could retreat into my own world for a while and be alone. It’s pretty hard to do this when you’re expected to be a perfect wife and mother and spend every waking hour with them.

I wanted to go out and get shitfaced. I wanted to go get lost, I still feel like that but part of my moral fiber is reminding me of how many people I hurt when I go off the deep end and do that. My choir director called about an hour ago and I was really sharp and curt with him- I don’t mean to be a raving bitch but on days like this there is no hiding how I really feel.

But anyway, tomorrow is Sunday and that means I have to go to church and be a nice person. What. Ever. I am totally not in the mood for that, I am uber tempted to turn up in my hoodie, jeans and sneakers and piss off everyone in the congregation. I always dress up Abby to look all pretty because well, everyone notices her way more than they notice me…and I’m fine with that. The drama queen part of me secretly hates it, but I don’t listen to her half the time. I had a meeting with the pastor last Monday and I explained everything about myself in great detail, and she was fine with the fact that I may have outbursts or crying jags in the middle of service. I turn up for second service wearing my jeans most of the time anyway, and last week I painted my fingernails black and wore my jeans. No one ever really notices the jeans, but for some reason the black nail polish seemed to freak them the hell out. *evil cackle* I love pissing people off. They work themselves up to have these ridiculous high expecations of me and then I trash it all by dressing really casual. Stick it up your arse, my church preaches all about being yourself in church and then half the congregation goes batshit crazy when I show up and wreck their perfect world

Writer? Hahahaha!

I am amazed at the amount of people who seem to think that I’m a writer and that’s my job for a living. Gosh, I so wish. I do love writing and I’ve always been told from an early age that I’m pretty good at it…but I cannot write a book or anything with substance to save my life. I’ve tried countless times to write a book, but I always fail because I get terrible writers block. I am certainly no JK Rowling. 

The most writing I do is on here, and I doubt I’m going to get any awards or book deals from it all. I know some bloggers do get book deals from their musings, but they’re usually people who are well known on the Internet and I’m afraid that I am not one of them. It’s not a sob story or an opportunity for anyone out there to feel sorry for me…it’s just the cold hard truth. It’s a brutal world out there online and it’s really hard for a small fry like myself to get into the big pond with the big fish. 

Besides, they usually talk about relevent stuff…and I tend to just talk out of my ass most of the time. I’ll admit now that I lead a pretty average, dull life and it’s nothing special. But writing this blog helps with my bipolar disorder and helps me to get the thoughts out of my head and onto something tangible. 

I kept a lot of paper diaries as a kid, and I can look back on them now and laugh my head off about how naive and clueless I was about so much in the world. Maybe I’ll put all the entries online one day, that’s quite a big project though.

Weird Week

It’s been a weird kind of a week, hasn’t it? Crazy storms on the East coast, the whole VA Tech thing and crazy people in general. I’ve actually been doing okay recently, no weird mood swings, no feeling sorry for myself, no wanting to punch walls….it’s been very nice just feeling average in general. I went for a run the other day while the weather was nice and that cleared my head of anything brewing. It’s been raining for most of the day so I havn’t been out. I’ve also been keeping busy with packing stuff in boxes, since we have less than a month now until we move to our new place on the other side of town. I’ve been wanting to bake stuff recently but I’ve just not had the creative desire to do so….I seem to be more creative when I’m in a depressive period. A lot of my time has been taken up recently by me just sitting on my butt and playing video games. When I’m manic, I don’t have the patience to sit still and when I’m depressed, I just want to spend all day asleep. So being stuck in this in between phase is enabling me to get stuff done that I usually can’t. Although, that means I keep putting the packing off. I wish there was a magic packing fairy :p