I Need A Kit-Kat Bar…

You know why…? Because I need a fucking break…

I need a break from all the bullshit in the world. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. Not that Facebook was ever exactly enjoyable… Heaven knows the internet trolls make sure that it’s not. But… right now, nothing seems enjoyable. Everywhere you turn, it’s nothing but upset. Racism, COVID-19, people who support “The Great Pumpkin” (you all know who I’m talking about) fighting with those who think he’s the world’s biggest idiot and the reincarnation of Hitler. It’s pretty unclear how I see him, isn’t it…? I read something about the southern states doing what they please and not going along with the government as a whole, which is actually a frightening prospect, to be honest. Blame being put on specific countries to cause even more racism and hatred, but how do you know you can trust the news or the government…? Yeah, governments have never lied to their people, right? Hahahaa… I feel like we’re marionettes and the government is pulling our strings so we dance to their tune…

I used to write more cheerful blogs…

I’m sure you guys have noticed that I’m not exactly a ray of fucking sunshine. Far from it… But, when I write bogs, I like to write about weird things that come to my mind, try to give people something comical to read. Sadly, that’s just not how it’s been working, here. However, I notice you guys seem to like my rants and venting, so…

Actually, I think this blog is good for me as well as others who struggle from depression and anxiety. I get to vent all my frustrations, you guys know you’re not alone in feeling this way and, if I find ways to help alleviate some of my mental issues, I’m more than happy to share. I think we all need some stress relief right now. Everyone is suffering depression, anxiety and hopelessness with the way the world is now. However, I don’t think anyone is suffering as much as those of us who have mental and mood disorders. The bullshit going on in the world is just deepening the problems that already existed…

Honestly, the world feels so surreal right now… doesn’t it? You kind of walk around in a fog, going through the motions, but something just doesn’t seem right about any of it because it’s not what you considered “normal”. Worse, you either feel as if this is going to be the new normal forever and ever a-fucking-men. Or maybe you feel as if this has been the reality all along and what we had before was the surreal world… Wow… I just blew my own mind for a minute, there… Anyway, I sometimes feel as if the world around me is some surreal nightmare, like Salvador Dali’s The Persistence Of Memory. By the way, this is what the melting watches painting is called. I have no idea what the fuck he was smoking, but I’ve always loved this painting for some reason.

Ooh! Art history lesson time!

Oddly enough, aside from the 2 drawing classes I had when I attended Full Sail College online, the only other class I found helpful was art history. Not only did I end the class with a perfect score, my teacher nominated me for an award! Sweet…

Anyway… at one point we had to write a paper (something like a thesis, only a bit easier) on a work of art of our choice. I chose this one, M.C. Escher’s Other World. When I began writing, I thought, “There’s no way I can analyze this or write an entire paper doing so… What the fuck was I thinking?!” But I’ve always felt so drawn to this lithograph that, once I began writing, I had a hard time ending it and writing a conclusion. I could have written a million pages and still droned on and on over it. I honestly think that the reason I’m so drawn to it is because it gives us a good look at the possibility of worlds unlike our own, where the surreal is the norm.

But my favorite assignment was creating a project on the history of animation. I went off the rails with that, and not in a good way…

It started out fine. I began with the zoetrope, moved on to the first animated short, the 1908 film Fantasmagorie… Then I really went into weird places with the assignment…

We all know Disney as the makers of cutesy films, right? I’m going to blow your mind… During WWII, they were asked to make a propaganda short and came up with Education For Death The Making Of The Nazi. Sorry if I ruined your childhood with that. It’s really very sad and difficult to watch, so take care when viewing it. But I didn’t stop there… I added shit like the movie Heavy Metal, which was banned for quite a long time in the US due to musical copyright issues, not, mind you, for nudity or aliens snorting lines of Plutonian Nyborg… I also added the first animated porno from 1972, Fritz The Cat. I thought I’d get an F for adding these. Instead, I got 100% and complimented on my work. I was actually rather shocked by that, hahahahaha…

Not sure if this idea is genius or incredibly stupid…

But enough about me pushing boundaries in art history…

As I mentioned earlier, I write stories as well as draw. Sadly, I haven’t been doing either for some time because I just can’t focus and let my creativity flow. That’s turned into a major issue… I live for creating, whether it’s drawing, painting, writing… whatever. I thought I was just in a slump, but now I see the real issue.

It’s bad enough that this creepy, surreal world has me so fucked up that I feel like I’m in a black hole of despair I can’t escape every time I need to go out of my house. On top of it, I have Morticia dumping all her issues on me and I don’t need it. I spoke to one of my other friends who said Morticia takes and never gives. She’s right… She’s emotionally draining someone who they themselves are already emotionally drained. And she offers nothing in return. Worse, I haven’t even been writing in the one story that’s just for me. It’s my little world, my escape from reality. I often use the storyline for self therapy. Now she has me so whacked out, I can’t even do that…

And so, instead, I escape into my video game, to the pleasant island I created to provide some zen, some peace and serenity I desperately need. I wish I could say it was enough but, sadly, it’s not…

So for now, I’ll stick with my hippie-dippy solutions. I’ll burn incense, use my Tibetan singing bowl, wear various things to ward off negativity, meditate… And I’ll hope like hell that Morticia suddenly becomes mute and won’t be able to speak ever again. Or that I go deaf, which may be better, Then I don’t have to hear shit from any source…

When You Know You’re Fucked…

The guy you’ve never heard of, Johnny Eck

I woke up at 3:30 this morning because I was in the most horrible pain. My hips were screaming at me and, when I finally mustered up the courage to try and walk to the bathroom, I was beginning to wish someone would remove everything from the waist down…

Which brought to mind this gentleman, Johnny Eck. Before you think this was trick photography or some other photo manipulation, you may want to check out the film Tod Browning’s Freaks. My mother introduced me to this bizarre movie years ago. She wasn’t that fond of it, but I guess she figured everyone should see it at least once… The movie was released in 1932, so no, there was no trick photography or CGI. Tod Browning used real circus sideshow “freaks” in the film, which was kind of controversial at the time, but not for the reasons you think. It’s because people were seriously freaked out by seeing people with birth defects back then. Parents would give up their children because of deformity and the only job they could get was in a circus sideshow as “freaks”. It’s really an excellent movie, though. Check it out.

Two out of three so far… Here’s hoping for the future

Before delving into why I’m envious of Johnny Eck this morning, let me go back a few days…

It really wasn’t a great weekend… Morticia was blowing up my phone all day Saturday and driving me nuts. And I wasn’t in the mood for it… Not that I ever am, but especially not this past weekend. My stress echo was coming up, which actually caused me enough stress that they could have done the procedure without running on a treadmill. I was so anxious and scared, I was having palpitations and everything. I was in a bad place…

So I did what I usually do when I feel like that. I shopped… Yes, I know that’s bad. But I think most people with uncontrolled depression and/or anxiety are prone to this. Fuck it if you can’t afford to spend money on stupid shit. You do it because, for that brief, fleeting moment, you feel happy and at ease. Really, isn’t that what we all want when we’re really depressed and anxious, to feel happy and at ease? Of course it is! So we go out like the assholes we are and blow a few hundred dollars we can’t really spare to feel better when medication fails us.

I had heard of this amazing indoor flea market about a half hour from my house, so on Sunday, I decided to go. I’m thinking, “Awesome! Indoors! AC! Whoo-hoo!” Yeah… it wasn’t like that… It was hot as balls outside, but the humidity was low, so it wasn’t horrible. But inside the building? No AC… It was hotter inside than outside, if you can believe that!

Anyway, I walked down an aisle and was only about 3-4 display booths in when I saw this drawing. I went into the booth to see it up close and it made me smile. Like truly smile. I was completely captivated by this pen and ink drawing so much, I stared at it, smiling for a long time… $35 and worth every penny! I knew as soon as I saw her, she was coming home with me. And she did! This is her hanging on the wall of my stairwell. Isn’t she beautiful? I don’t know what’s so captivating about it, but the cashiers at the flea market told me they felt very much the same way about this drawing. I think they were sorry to see her go…

This is all I know about my captivating young lady… The signature appears to be Hiram Ostrander (I googled it, there were a lot of them) and is dated 1914! Now my curiosity is getting the better of me… Who was the artist? Was this his wife, a famous actress, a lovely vision in his imagination? I don’t know, but I plan to research this further. Until then, I decided this lovely young lady needed a name that was popular back then. The one that stood out most in my mind was Margaret, so that is who she’s going to be until I find out who she really was, if anyone. He obviously wasn’t a famous artist, but I think we need to share this drawing so he gets recognition he deserves.

Afterward, I went to the local Skechers outlet. I was told I needed to wear sneakers for the stress echo, which I told them probably wasn’t going to happen as I had 2 ingrown big toenails that were infected. But I thought better of the idea and broke down to buy new sneakers. Actually, they’re pretty comfy. They have memory foam in them and the tops are super soft. I figured they wouldn’t irritate my toes too badly. I also got some socks as well as athletic shorts. Sadly, I didn’t find out until I put them on the next morning that they’re snug and create rolls in odd places. Ugh… I know I gained a lot, especially in the midsection. Normally I wear clothes that hide that fact, not accentuate it. But there I was, sporting more rolls than a bakery in my new shorts. They said I should wear comfortable clothes, but I really wasn’t comfortable with these belly rolls the shorts created or how large they made my ass look. Seriously, people… Women don’t want to look that way!

While I was at it, I went out to buy a new watch. I actually have a cool watch but, after changing the battery, the water resistant seal got fucked up and the crystal fogged. So I had to wear my expensive Bulova watch. Unfortunately, the crystal was getting scratched and I don’t want to know how much a replacement would be, so I decided I needed a cheaper, every day watch. So I bought this one… Pretty, right? Yeah… it was until I overflowed my water bottle and water spilled over my wrist. Now the crystal has all sorts of condensation on the inside. Ugh… It figures, right? And it was normally pretty expensive (I got it on sale cheap). You’d think they would make them better for the money… I also bought some new cami tops since, you know, I got too fat to fit into my summer clothes from last year. I really needed tops and pants. So I bought a bunch of tops and a pair of denim capris. And a new purse… And a real meal at Red Lobster… I was so bad this weekend, but it helped keep my mind off of things.

So I’m feeling pretty saucy yesterday. I made some great finds at the flea market, I had new sneakers and workout clothes, a new watch… I felt set and ready to rock!

Except… when I got into the room, I freaked out and cried. I was told not to take my Klonopin before my stress echo. The nice nurses running the test said that I could and had me take one right then and there. They calmed me down and reassured me there was no danger. They were very convincing, though I didn’t like the idea that they had to get my heart rate up to 150 (based on my age). This is not an easy test. The more in shape you are, the longer you go (yay for being sedentary!) and their idea of starting out slow was not slow by my standards. Then it’s raised up like you’re walking a moderate incline. My knees sounded like Rice Krispies! Then they sped it up! What the fuck?! I felt I was running uphill, but it felt better on my legs. My pulse got to 150, I stayed there a minute, then I had to quick hop on the gurney next to me because they only have 90 seconds to take ultrasound pictures. When I finally stood after, I almost fell. My legs were Jell-O…

Other than that, once my heart rate and blood pressure came down, I felt pretty good, except my legs. My breathing was much fuller than before, which was amazing! But I could already feel the pain setting in when I stopped to get coffee after… It got even worse when I killed time in Dollar General before my podiatrist appointment afterward. But I didn’t kill enough time and ended up sitting in the car for over a half hour until my appointment. Big mistake… When I tried to get out of the car, I struggled and had difficulty walking. I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty this morning, but I had no idea I was going to be in so much pain that it was going to wake me up at 3:30AM. And I had no idea it was going to hurt as bad as it does. I could barely walk to the bathroom, which is something like maybe 12-16 feet away…? Yeah, it hasn’t been a good morning and I’m still wishing someone would chop off everything from the waist down…

The visit with the podiatrist was no better… I’ve had the worst pain in both my big toes for a while, now. Especially since Baxter likes jumping on said sore toes… So I made an appointment for after my echo. It… didn’t go well… Even though he used butane spray to numb me, I was in horrible pain when he cut out the ingrown parts of the left toenail. I nearly kicked him in the face. For the right, I told him give me frostbite in that toe because it was more sore. It didn’t help… I wanted to punch something or someone, it hurt so bad! Even when he ground down my thick nails, I had incredible pain. My only solution now to stay pain free is to have the toenail removed because the root of the nail is so badly damaged. I’m not happy about it, but I can’t be in that much pain that I can hardly walk. I go in August 12th…

Inevitably, I’m sure the other will have to be removed as well. But, as it’s not as bad as the right one, I’m holding off until the first one is “heeled”… Get it…? I know, lame joke, Jackie…

Anyway, my biggest concern was seeing my toe without a nail and thinking it looks weird. I get funny about shit like that. I’ve heard people paint their skin when they paint their other nails, but that will wear off way too fast. A fake nail glued to your skin at the nail salon? A longer fix, but still, it won’t last forever and what is that glue doing to your skin? So I came up with the perfect solution… When it’s all healed, I’m going to go get a tattoo of a painted and designed toenail on my big toe! It’s permanent, it’ll always look cool… Why not? When I mentioned that, the doc told me that foot tattoos hurt. Yeah, well… I have a watercolor tattoo on the back of my right shoulder that didn’t hurt at all. And I think watercolor would be best in this case so it looks more realistic. Besides, after all the pain I’ve had my whole life from these fucking toenails, I’m pretty sure I won’t even notice. But that’s my plan and I’m sticking to it!

And… then I went shopping… again…

Okay, bear in mind that I actually did need to go out for something. The power cable for my Nintendo Switch is taking a shit again, so I had to hit Game Stop for a new one. I hate that store… I can’t just come out with what I went in for. I always find some cute or awesome things I just have to have. One of which was this Harley Quinn figure from Birds of Prey. When I looked at the box, I was hoping this one would be the one I got. I was so happily surprised! I also came out with a bunch of other things I didn’t go there for or need, but… yeah, I needed to shop. It had been a rough morning.

I also decided to treat myself to a trip to Five Below where I got a few things, including Pocky! I love Pocky so much… And it’s such a small, sweet treat, I figure it won’t hurt my diet like Red Lobster did. Hey, I’ve been strict with sticking to my diet for 3-4 months and have had little results. I earned a meal bursting with flavor! Besides, I stuck to my diet to a degree anyway… So, after hitting Five Below, I ran to Ulta. I was running low on one of my favorite Pacifica perfumes. Imagine, to my distress, they won’t be carrying it much longer. I bought the last 2 roller ball bottles of that scent (on sale for $7!) and 2 bottles of Hempz body lotion that was on sale.

Thankfully the cardiologist’s office called late afternoon to tell me my stress echo was normal. What a huge relief! I feel like a weight was lifted! I still go see the cardiologist on the 4th, but, for now, I’m feeling pretty relaxed and happy! Now I can stop freaking out over every little ache and pain that feels like a heart attack symptom (to a degree, I’ll still watch for big signs) and I know I can start exercising again because, if I can do what I did, riding my exercise bike should be safe. Seriously, my heart rate never got anywhere near 150 before, but now I know it can and my heart won’t blow the fuck up or anything. So I’m doing this and losing all this damned Cymbalta blubber. Wish me luck!

Well, That’s… Kind Of Scary

Yesterday was one day that I didn’t mind hearing Morticia crying to me… amazingly enough…

She had good cause to, actually. For about a week or so, her mother had been having issues with confusion. One might think that she’s at the beginning stages of dementia, but it seems the cause is simpler (for the moment, anyway). It’s been horribly hot the past 5 or 6 days and her mother is on a low sodium diet, fluid restrictions and a diuretic. She was dehydrated so badly, she didn’t recognize Morticia, which upset her and she cried to me. That’s a good reason to cry…

She spent most of the day at the emergency room. Her mom was kept overnight; she ‘s doing okay for now. But what I thought was interesting was that Morticia told me about this old man who came in with his son while they were in the waiting room. She overheard the man tell the nurse his name and, as soon as she said it, I recognized it, too. It was the name of our elementary school principal!

Yes, that nasty old bastard is still alive…

My first words to Morticia were, “I thought he was dead!” Nope, still alive and kicking, still getting around pretty good on his own for 93!!! As soon as I got off the phone with her, I immediately called my mother and my sister to tell them who Morticia had run into. Not surprising, they both said, “I thought he was dead!” So that should give you a clue… My sister and I reminisced over some weird stories that we can now look back on and laugh about. But, back then, they really weren’t funny at all…

For kids I went to school with, it WAS walking the last mile…

I only had to go to his office once and it was only to deliver something for my teacher. I tried to get out of it, but that wasn’t happening. She sent me down to the principal’s office with some papers and I was scared out of my mind. I remember looking at the secretary my mother knew well (who also knew me well) with pleading, terrified eyes when she told me I could go into his office to deliver the papers. She was a kind woman who reassured me it was okay, he wasn’t going to get mad. I wasn’t so sure about that… By the time I walked through his door, I was sweating like a whore in church! It didn’t matter that I knew I was only there as a delivery girl and had not gotten into any trouble (none that I was caught for; I wasn’t a real troublemaker until high school). I was there, standing before his desk, looking at that stern, dour face. I handed him the papers with shaky hands and voice as I told him who they were from. He took them, grumbled a thank you and I hot-footed it the fuck out of there! Still one of the scariest moments of my life to this day…

Where the fuck was this bit of info when I needed it?!

You may not believe I never got in trouble then, but I really didn’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t know why anyone got in trouble…

Even when I was a kid, I think we all believed the principal was literally the spawn of Satan himself. He ruled with an iron fist. If he came into a noisy cafeteria (which most in elementary school are), he would yell in a booming, terrifying voice that could be heard over the noise. I’m still not sure how he did that… I think we all expected him to breathe fire as well… Eventually, it got to the point where, as soon as he walked into the cafeteria, it fell immediately so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. I mean that quite literally… Then we would all sit there like statues, afraid to move until he left. Trust me, you didn’t want to give him a reason to haul your ass to his office… I had heard tales and had seen it for myself the only time I was in his office. Hanging on the wall next to his desk was the thickest wooden paddle you ever saw. And he used it…

Albeit, our principal’s was thicker, wider and a bit shorter…

Before you get too horrified, you have to understand the times. When I began school there, it was… I hesitate to tell you… It was the late 70s, okay? This was back when the principal was within his rights to paddle your ass if it was warranted. Teachers as well. In fact, I recall clearly one of my first few days of kindergarten. My sister, five years my elder, had stuck by me as we walked into school, me in front of her. In front of me was one of the baddest kids in town… He purposely slammed the big, heavy glass door and hit my entire face. It hurt like a bitch… I’m pretty sure I cried… Anyway, my sister was incensed. She grabbed my hand, drug me over to one of the sweetest teachers I’ve ever met (I had him in 6th grade, which is what he taught). My sister told him what happened. He was pissed… Everyone knew this family and knew all the kids were bad-ass assholes. And I stood there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as the teacher grabbed this kid (who was almost as big) and jacked his ass up against the wall, flipping shit on him. He was my hero that day.

Our principal’s was much thicker and made from a sturdier wood

I’m sure some of you younger readers are in horror right now. But that’s just how it was back in the day before a bunch of whiny parents started bitching about it and punishment such as these examples were not allowed…

Don’t think I’m a ghoul or a sadist, but I think that was the worst mistake ever made… Don’t forget, I live in the hood. A lot of the people here are assholes who pop out kids for welfare money. They don’t watch their kids, don’t punish their kids… I’ve even known good people who didn’t believe in punishment. You know what happens to kids with parents like that? They end up like the one kid in my hood. When he was 10, he beat the living fuck out of some poor kid on the playground. The teachers weren’t allowed to grab either kid or they’d be fired. All they could do was blow a whistle… The receiver of the beating was told to go back to class until one student took him to the nurse. Good thing… The kid had a black eye, broken arm and broken leg. The kid who took him got punished for doing the right thing…

Had my old principal been running the show then, that wouldn’t have happened that way…

I just don’t understand people today… Even those who are good people and believe that foregoing punishment is best. I suppose they never heard of “spare the rod and spoil the child”… It’s true, actually. I got punished as a kid… A spanking on a bare ass, a wooden spoon or flyswatter across my ass… I turned out okay. I’m not a criminal or violent. Kids need structure and they look to their parents for it. If the parents don’t give a fuck, well… you get little 10 year old criminals…

I remember years back when one of my closer friends from high school had a son. She was always a very sweet person, but she apparently didn’t believe in discipline. I was asked to babysit her son so she could go take a few extra college classes. I agreed, trying to be helpful. She then looked around my place, at the breakable items, and told me I’d have to put all of it away because he liked to break things. I told her flat out no, he would learn not to touch things that weren’t his. He got spanking at my house. He was afraid to come stay with me because of that, but he did ruin and break a few things. I don’t tolerate that shit… Under my watch, you don’t act like a feral kid who was raised by wolves or, in this case, stupid parents.

I’m sure a lot of you are thinking my views are “old fashioned”. And maybe they are… But the thing is, those methods worked. I’m not saying it’s okay to beat the fuck out of your kid or torture them, but a spanking now and again when warranted won’t kill them and will help prevent them from being miniature criminals like that kid in my hood who severely injured an innocent kid on the playground. It will keep them from becoming like another kid in my neighborhood who was caught chucking bricks at some poor girl’s head and then blamed it on one of the few good kids here. So was my principal wrong? I don’t know…

In my day, photos only came in sepia… NOT…

Still, even though my old principal was a scary guy, it’s kind of amazing he’s still alive and it was nostalgic to hear talk of him and to share stories with Morticia and my sister.

At the end of the day, scary as he was then, I can look back and think a bit more fondly of him and appreciate how he ran things.

Stop The World, I Wanna Get Off…

The interesting things you find on Facebook…

Before we begin, I found these goth drawings on Facebook. They’re not mine and I don’t know who did them…

I wish I could say my weekend was good, but nothing seems to be good where I live. In fact, the entire world is going to shit… And all because of a virus.

This is why I shouldn’t go on Facebook… You know, I’m sick of seeing all this COVID-19 shit. Just when you think your state has everything down to a science, they change the rules (here they change them more often than most change their underwear). Then you have all the people who are conspiracy theorists who are sure this is the government’s way of controlling people. But that’s not so far fetched, really. Think about it… In 4 months, the US government has managed to control where we go, what we do, how we do it. They’ve successfully isolated us from the human race. Here, where I live, bars and liquor stores are closed to discourage gatherings. Hell, we still can’t find toilet paper half the time…

Every day, we’re told how many people have died from this virus. But the truth of the matter is, there are some cases where people didn’t die from it. In one case, the person died from a heart attack and the family flipped shit when they learned that COVID-19 was going to be listed as cause of death on their death certificate. Why do hospitals do that? Because they get more money from the government for having people who died of COVID-19 in their hospitals. How many people died from some other condition and the hospitals fudged the records to get a fuck ton of money?! Which begs the question… Can we really trust those numbers? For that matter, can we trust anything the news reports?! FOX admitted to making shit up already. And, if there are any reputable news stations and papers, what are their sources? Why the government, of course! We can trust them, right? Because they’ve never hidden shit from the masses for over half a century… So when they tell you that China intentionally released the virus here, can you believe them? Or are they just spawning hate and indulging in fear mongering…?

Sadly, I don’t relate to this one often…

As I sit here writing this, watching The Twilight Zone, I’m realizing that Rod Serling was ahead of his time… It’s as if he knew history would repeat itself in the future. And here we are…

I find it interesting that, for decades, the US strove to put an end to communism, to keep it out of the country. What the fuck do you think is going on right now?! The beginning of communism. The government is dictating how we’re supposed to live our lives. That’s pretty much communism…

We’ve had worse outbreaks of viruses over the years. H1N1, various strains of flu… The entire world never shut down before. So why is it now? Those flus killed more than COVID-19 and that’s if you believe the numbers are accurate. But, all of a sudden, people were freaking the fuck out and now this is our world, our lives… And this is no life… Be honest, how many of you have enjoyed the so-called “lives” you’re leading right now? Probably not a whole hell of a lot of you, that’s for sure…

Why did I just go off on a tangent that, more than likely, will piss people off…? Depression and anxiety, my old friends…

I’m doing my part… I stay home (something I normally do, but it’s different when someone is telling you that you have to do it) and, when I go out, I wear a mask, I follow the 6 feet social distancing. I even flip on people not wearing a mask or wearing it properly. If that’s what I need to do to get it to go away, so be it…

The reason I’m rocking the boat and making waves is because of those of us suffering from depression and anxiety. I don’t know about the rest of you, but these restrictions are making my conditions worse. I find myself more depressed and anxious these days. I don’t adjust to change well and, when I go out, I literally break down and cry. This isn’t the world I know anymore and I don’t like what it’s become. I fear that nothing will ever be normal again and normalcy is important to me. Hell, even people who don’t suffer from depression and anxiety seem to feel hopeless that normal will return someday.

Making shit tons of money for chasing a ball for decades…

Then there’s the down-right insanity…

Granted, I’m a hockey fan. I loathe football… In all honesty, I’m not sure why I care for any sport. These are guys who get paid an obscene amount of money to play a sport, stub their toe in the first game and, whiny bitches they are, will stay out the rest of the season for it and get paid that obscene amount of money. You know who you are, T.O….

Anyway… I read over the weekend that the NFL is giving players the choice to either play this season or sit it out due to COVID-19. Mind you, a lot of them have already had the virus… In any case, if they decide to sit the season out because of the virus, they’re going to get paid $150,000 for the year… to sit on their asses and do nothing. Think about that for a minute. Most of us don’t make anything near that in a year, no matter how hard we work, right? These guys are getting that to sit on their ass. I think they make too much to begin with. Now they’re making that much to do nothing?! It’s fucking sick…

The flip side to this is that the government is hemming and hawing about giving people another stimulus check of a measly $2000. So those working and at risk of contracting the virus aren’t worth $2000?! What about people who lost their jobs, the people who are still waiting to get their unemployment. I know someone who was laid off, filed right away and, 3 months later, still has yet to receive anything while others laid off at the same time have gotten theirs. My mother’s boyfriend waited 3 months after he was laid off to get his first check as well. Small businesses are suffering while superstores like Walmart are thriving. Does anyone see what’s wrong with this picture?! The government doesn’t give a fuck about you unless you’re rich or chase a bunch of guys with a ball around a field! It’s fucking pathetic…

Of course, I’m wondering if I’m going to get a visit from the CIA from this blog… You know how they hate people who make waves and rock the boat. You know what? Tough fucking shit. Come knock on my door, assholes. I’ll be waiting for ya…

I’ve never been one to sit idly by and not speak what’s on my mind. I like making waves, rocking the boat. It sometimes seems that’s what I live for sometimes… And those times when I kept my mouth shut, I regretted it, mainly because I pussied out to spare others from an uncomfortable situation. I hate myself for doing it, even at the time. Yet I’ll still put people I care about above my desire to “stir the pot”, so to speak… Besides, as I get older, I find that putting so much stress on myself by making waves with people, not caring how it effects others, is sometimes not worth the damage I’m causing myself with all this stress.

With my stress echo a week from today, I’ve been trying to avoid stress and all the news of the world right now. Call it escapism, call it ignorant to ignore these things, but I’m finding that it’s the only chance I have to save my sanity. I already have way more stress and anxiety from being mentally ill; I don’t need more. So I’ve been spamming people on Facebook with my Animal Crossing shit. Most people ignore it. Whatever… It makes me happy. And it’s nice to see cute, non-stressful shit, don’t you think…?

Welcome To The Wonderful World Of Monochromatic…

I was doing some online shopping for a new dinnerware set this morning…

Wait, let me back up first for a moment. There was a mess greeting me in the kitchen this morning, one of my stoneware bowls shattered on the floor. I’ve been using these bowls for the cats because I had to keep their water up on the counter. If Sebastian doesn’t drink a lot, his urinary tract can block up again. And if I leave a dish on the floor, the dogs drink it, so… That’s why it was on the counter. And, early this morning, it was shattered on the floor. I have no idea which of the 4 was the culprit…

After the mess was cleaned up, I immediately hopped online to look for new dinnerware sets. Yay! I’ve been more than ready for a change anyway. This just justifies me spending the money on it, haha! So I start shopping, hoping to find something dazzling that just screams, “This is me!” You know what I found, mostly? Plain white, plain white with a black or gray pattern, sometimes with a tiny splash of red… Some dark brown or puke, but all fairly monochromatic.

Please, for the love of god, DON’T do this to your home…

I find this new trend… disturbing…

My sister, so I’m told, has also jumped on the monochromatic band-wagon (I have yet to see her new house and it’s been over 2 years because I still feel some animosity). My mother tells me the outside of the house is gray, the inside is gray… The front door is black… I see this in renovation shows on TV, in furniture, dinnerware, everywhere…

What the fuck happened to color?!

Seriously, I want to know! When did everyone decide that color was bad and begin acting as if it was the work of the devil?! It’s like everyone suddenly turned Puritan! Or North Korean… They have a very monochromatic society… But seriously, when the hell did people become so fucking opposed to colors?! I realize that monochromatic colors and cool colors are supposed to be soothing… Honestly? I find they make me more depressed and I feel so unsettled… Yet cool colors, so they say, are better for people with depression and anxiety. Mmm, nope… I like warm colors. They’re more comforting and cheerful, don’t you think…?

See…? Color can be our friend! And it can be fun!

I’m really digging this retro style furniture (or maybe it really is retro) and the fact that whoever did this wasn’t afraid to play with color and mix some odd combos together. Somehow, they got this to all tie together perfectly to make a beautiful, colorful room!

I myself have a colorful home! However, after 14 years, it’s time to repaint… When I moved here, I didn’t have a lot of time to paint the drab white walls (or a lot of help), so I said the hell with it and painted the living room/dining room and kitchen the same color. Pumpkin something or another… I did it solely because I just wanted to get color in here and time was short. Closing was 3 days before the end of the month when I informed the slumlord I was renting from that I was moving. So yeah… not enough time to dick around with multiple paint colors and move all my shit.

Kudos to whoever was bold enough for an orange bathroom!

I have, since then, repainted the kitchen twice (the first color I chose was nothing like what I ordered and looked like calamine lotion on my walls) and I have painted 2 accent walls in my living room. I was going to paint the other walls in the living room as well as the dining room but, after painting the 2 accent walls, I realized something. Always read reviews before you buy!!!

I discovered, when I had finished the two walls, that something smelled like cat piss… So I’m looking all over to find the spot where the cat peed to no avail. It took me some time to realize… it was the paint… So I went to check reviews on that particular brand to find someone else had a similar complaint and stated his home smelled like cat pee for 3 days! No lie, my house reeked like cat piss for 3 days… Now I have 2 gallons of the other color I was going to use sitting in the basement, untouched. What a bother… Now I need to buy new paint. My point is, though, that everything in my house consists of warm, earthy colors.

I’m getting lots of design ideas from writing this entry…

And color schemes don’t need to be outlandishly bold, either. They can be warm, neutral colors with pops of vivid colors from furniture, plants, paintings… whatever!

But it still leaves me wondering… Who in the blue fuck started this trend of monochromatic interiors and got everyone to fall in love with them?! Seriously, I want to know because I want to kick them in the dick…

My apologies to all you monochromatic lovers, but… No… Just no… This world is full of bright, cheerful colors everywhere! They’re in the sunrises and sunsets, in the sky, the grass, flowers… Beautiful colors all around! Why would you want to surround yourself with dull, monochromatic shades? Do people think this looks sophisticated? Do they think they’ll look high class if their homes are devoid of color?! I just don’t understand…

I remember seeing an interesting episode of The Joy Of Painting with Bob Ross (a.k.a., the way I taught myself to paint). He received a letter from a fan who said they really wanted to paint beautiful landscapes like he did, but they were completely color blind. Everything looked like various shades of gray. And Bob, being the mellow, sweet hippie kind of dude he was, decided that he was going to do a monochromatic landscape to show that you could still make beautiful landscapes using only various shades of gray, black, white, dark brown and a very dark blue that was almost black. The painting was literally amazing! And, even though it was monochromatic, you could almost see that there was color where there was no color. It was truly phenomenal! I believe the episode is on YouTube and Netflix for anyone who may wish to check it out. So, done correctly, absence of color can be just as beautiful if done correctly. But throwing some gray paint on your walls, buying gray furniture, laying down an area rug of varying shades of monochromatic colors… Yeah, that’s just not cutting the mustard. Color that fucking shit up! Stop making your homes look like real life black and white movies!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I love old black and white movies, but I wouldn’t want to live in one. It would be like that movie… Pleasantville? Is that what it was called? The one where the two siblings get sucked into an old black and white TV show?

Maybe it’s just me… Maybe it’s because I’m an artist or because I suffer from depression and anxiety. But, whatever the reason, I hate that people are choosing to make everything monochromatic. It’s dull, lifeless, depressing… Disturbing and unsettling… Our lives should be colorful! And that includes making the spaces we occupy colorful as well! So please, think before you paint, people… Dull, drab, monochromatic colors are not a sign of sophistication! It’s a sign that you would rather follow trends than follow your heart and do what makes you happy. Unless you’re happy being dull… then so be it… End rant.

Hit Snooze A Few More Times…

I’ve been terrible about getting proper sleep lately…

For a few months, now, I’ve been binge watching various shows on Hulu. Recently, I began binge watching the anime Black Butler. Idiot that I am, I’ve been watching it at night. And, if the episode is a cliff-hanger, you know I’m watching the next episode because I can’t leave it on a cliff-hanger until the next day! That would be sacrilege! Meaning my dumb ass is staying up past midnight lately. And my alarm is set for 5:30AM… I haven’t been sleeping a lot…

Honestly, I don’t see why it matters if I leave it on a cliff-hanger or not. About 8 years ago (holy shit, it’s been that long?!) I had downloaded the 2 seasons out at the time onto my old laptop and binge watched from the time I got up until I went to bed. Literally, all day… I believe it took something like 2 or 3 days to finish watching those seasons. So I’ve already watched it once and know what happened. Why does it matter if I leave it on a cliff-hanger? Perhaps it’s because it’s been so long since I watched it and I can’t stand to not finish a plot…

Of course, part of the reason I’m not sleeping good is this right here..

Don’t let that adorkable little face fool you… Those sad eyes and innocent face… He’s anything but innocent. I can’t tell you how many times he’s either woken me up in the middle of the night to play by either jumping on me or giving me a wet-willie by licking the inside of my ear. Yeah, apparently this is his favorite thing and he tries to do it to everyone who’s ears are within range… He also wakes me up in the morning, sometimes way before my alarm goes off, in the same fashion. He’s also woken me up because he heard, well, nothing, I assume… All of a sudden, he just starts barking, loud, at nothing and scares the shit out of me! Not a way that you want to be woken up… Other times, I hear him galloping through the house at warp 10 chasing one of the cats. But no matter what he’s up to, it’s difficult to sleep when he’s in a mode. I really don’t sleep much…

Heart-healthy

All that aside…

I got a call from the cardiologist’s office yesterday. Let me tell you something… I was shitting my drawers when I saw that number pop up on my phone. When I turned the monitor back in, I was told they would only call me if something was abnormal. You can imagine why I was scared out of my mind for those few seconds… However, it wasn’t like they were going to go away or any issues would go away if I didn’t answer the phone.

Turns out I didn’t need to be so scared. They told me that everything was normal on the monitor! My first thought was “Thank god!” with an overwhelming sense of relief. Then, in true bipolar fashion, my mood changed like a car going from 0-60 in no seconds. The fleeting thought of relief was instantly replaced by my getting a bit pissed, “Bitch, seriously?! You called and scared the fuck out of me to tell me it’s normal?!” I swear, there is no winning with my brain…

What I’d love to say to a lot of people…

But that wasn’t the worst part…

I was on the phone, unhappily, with Morticia at the time. So when I was done with my call and had to resume conversation with her, you know she asked what they had said. I told her that the monitor results were normal, to which she said, “Oh, see? You’re fine!” My response to this was to remind her that they still had the stress echocardiogram to perform. As usual, I was scoffed at for worrying about it. In her mind, I suppose, if one is good, the other will be as well. However, I have the worst of my symptoms when I’m being physically active, worse if I’m in the heat while doing so. And having to wear these fucking masks all the time isn’t helping that… Still, she seems thoroughly convinced that will also be fine because, you know, god forbid if someone is seriously ill and it isn’t her. Crazy Munchausen’s bitch… I, for one, am going to remain slightly relieved and won’t be totally relieved until the stress echo on the 27th…

Then the bitching began…

Admittedly, she does have one issue that’s a legit worry right now, so I didn’t mind her venting… Her adult son and his girlfriend have a major legal issue at the moment. It seems he bought 2 THC cartridges from a drug dealer the cops have been watching. Mind you, they didn’t know he was in that guy’s apartment, just that he was in the same building. He only bought 2 grams, which really isn’t enough to press the charges they’re pressing against him and his unsuspecting girlfriend who was driving. Right now, they’re charged with possession of both drugs and paraphernalia as well as some other bullshit charge. But here’s the thing… Her son was told that, if he didn’t snitch on the dealer, they would press charges. Seriously?! Blackmailed my state cops, people meant to protect and serve… Are they going to protect him if he does snitch…? You bet they won’t… I’ve never been for the cops. I’ve seen them turn a blind eye to real issues here in the hood and I’ve seen the corruption. I’m not a fan…

I didn’t mind that bit of venting. I’d be in a state, too, if I was in her position.

But you know it didn’t stay that way… The real bitching started after that. And she bitches about shit that she has control over. Your so-called “friend” is using you? Grow a set and stand up for yourself! She tells me she does, but what she calls standing up to someone and my version are 2 different things. Personally, I would love to talk to this asshole “friend” and let her have it, mainly because she’s a fucking asshole that rubs me the wrong way. I have no qualms over making someone cry. I can be cruel and ruthless without batting an eye… Anyway, Morticia was also bitching about Gomez… again… “I can’t bring myself to care anymore (lie), my health is more important than putting up with his shit.” So I tell her, again, dump him. She tells me it’s coming. Yes, it’s always coming… Interestingly enough, I wonder if that will work for me. She’s detrimental to my health (the reason the stressed out heart issues began), so I guess I don’t need to care, right…? Because I don’t…

Greetings from beautiful Zen Isle, night time version

Do you know why I bore everyone to tears with Animal Crossing stuff? It’s for the same reason I named my island Zen Isle… To have some fucking peace…

Seriously, that is one of the biggest reasons why I play so much and try to share little bits like this. In reality, I couldn’t afford to live right next to the ocean (a source of serenity for me) or live on such a large plot of land with lots of trees, flowers, a pool, these cool decorative moon chairs (that I wish really existed because they’re awesome), waterfalls all around and beautiful landscaping. Christ, if I were able to have all these things in real life, I’d have to be a fucking millionaire a few times over! But in the game… I have my own private beaches and rigged things so the other villagers can’t trespass. It’s my own private paradise of serenity and zen. The whole island is a serene place, full of nature and beauty.

It’s also the only creative outlet I have right now… Morticia has me so whacked out and stressed that I’ve lost what little I had left at the time. Being creative has always been a zen thing for me and she’s just pounding me full of bad vibes. Oddly enough, my kind-hearted villagers seem to know this and write me uplifting letters or say kind things. No judging, no bitching… just kind words. I need that… It’s also the only creative thing I can do while I’m stuck on the phone with her for hours on end. Even if I get inspired, every time I sit down to write or draw, which is a big “do not disturb” flag, she has a knack for calling right when I’m sitting down to create and the mood and idea is lost… I can’t do this anymore… I need my time. I’m severely irritated when she infringes upon it constantly.

There’s also another advantage… I can be a fucking pirate! Hell yeah!

Hahahaa… No, seriously, I really like the fact that I can dress however I want and my villagers seem to think everything I wear is awesome. I have a weird sense of fashion that make people look at me like I have 2 heads. I dress much like they did in the late 60s/early 70s. You know, when clothes were freakishly ugly and funky and, apparently, it didn’t matter if things matched. In my little world, here, I can dress how I want and no one cares how it looks. And… I can be a fucking pirate! Halloween is one of my top favorite holidays because I get to dress up and be whoever and whatever I wish. Do it all year long and you guarantee yourself a stay in the looney bin… But not in my game. If I want to be a pirate, I can be a fucking pirate any time I want! And I want to be a pirate…!

Just My Mind, Pouring Out Into My Blog…

That’s a rather scary thought, isn’t it…? Personally, I’ve always found my mind to be an interesting place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Unfortunately, I do live there, every day, all the time. It doesn’t even stop when I sleep.

A dream, they say, only takes a few seconds, even if it feels like it took hours. I read up as to why it feels that way, something about how fast your brain processes shit when you dream… I don’t remember; I read it a long time ago. Anyway… All of us dream every night, multiple times, we just don’t remember them even occurring. Some people remember having one once in a while and other lucky buggers don’t remember ever having one at all, claiming they don’t dream (they do, they just don’t retain them). Then there’s me… I remember at least one every single night. I’ve been that way my whole life. It’s as if my brain is bored and decides that it needs to amuse itself or something.

But that’s not the worst of it…

Most of the dreams I have are twisted and weird or flat out nightmares. Rarely do I have a pleasant one (which rarely make sense anyway). They’re all very vivid, to the point that I can sometimes actually feel things going on, such as if someone puts a knife to my back, I feel the point. Annoying, wouldn’t you say? It really is… It’s why I don’t sleep well at night. At some point, I realize that something going on couldn’t possibly be real, which is when I wake up. Sometimes I scare myself awake (if I’m dreaming about spiders, usually). Either way, I eventually wake up for some reason. And, if it’s the middle of the night and I go back to sleep, I always get woken up by another vivid one. Worse, I remember so many of my dreams in great detail. Some of them I remember were had when I was only 6 years old! Imagine remembering a dream that freshly after… a lot of years… I’ve been told I have an amazing memory. I suppose I do, which is nice in some areas. But not when it comes to freaky ass dreams you’d like to forget.

*trills tongue in cat-like purr at this picture*

And sometimes it’s things I see that now can’t be unseen, god help me…

Yesterday morning, I woke up with a song stuck in my head. Nothing unusual for me, but I often wonder why my brain chooses the songs it does. They’re very random. Yesterday it was Rick Springfield’s “Love Is Alright Tonight”… Okay, I admit it. I just adored Rick Springfield back in the 80s. I even had a poster of him on my wall that I used to stare at before I went to sleep (I was, what, 8 or 9?) I remember that poster so vividly… He had shorter hair than in this picture from the 70s (which deserves that cat-like trilling purr) and was wearing a pink suit, black shirt and pink tie in a concert shot. I was so nutty for him, I even had a folder (which I still have somewhere) with him on it. They used to make folders of album cover pictures that were shaped to look as if an LP was coming out of them. I had his “Success Hasn’t Spoiled Me Yet” album folder, which didn’t exactly mix with Mötley Crüe’s “Shout At The Devil” album and Quiet Riot’s “Metal Health” (both of which my mother thought I’d get in trouble for).

FYI, I never got in trouble for taking those 2 folders to school even thought the “Shout At The Devil” one had a pentagram on the back…

Anyway, I also had this poster from Dynamite magazine. Christ, I feel old… However, I felt even worse yesterday afternoon…

I was on YouTube, bored and looking for something to watch. I found a video of 70s heartthrobs, then and now. Leif Garrett (I never liked him) was the shot they used for the video and he looked so bad I just had to watch. Most of these guys were late 60s/early 70s (like Davey Jones from The Monkees) while others like Rick Springfield were late 70s/early 80s. I honestly didn’t know he was in this list until he came up… My dumb ass thought, “Ooh! Rick Springfield!” and nearly had a fan-girly nose bleed when I saw the picture of him with long hair that they used. I was enjoying all the old photos and video clips! Or I was until I saw what he looks like now… They showed close-ups of his face, which is when I literally said, “GAAAAHHH!” and put my hand in front of the screen. He looks so bad! It made me feel old and disgusting… And now I can’t unsee it…

Music is obviously a big part of my life…

Coincidentally, 2 days ago, I had gone to the grocery store here in town. It’s a small store and they usually play some good music over the speakers that I walk around singing while I shop. I get a lot of strange looks… I got even more strange looks the other day when I was shopping. They were playing 80s music! So there I was, singing along as I shopped. Near the end of my shopping trip, I added to my singing. They played “Freeze Frame” by the J. Geils Band. I always loved that song! So I’m pushing a cart through the store, doing this walking/dancing kind of thing. People were definitely giving me odd stares… However, the cashier took this a bit more in stride. She seemed to be amused by my ditty-bopping and commented that I was really jamming out. I was! I grew up listening to that stuff as a kid! It definitely took me way back…

I’ve also been listening to this particular album a lot lately…

This came out when I was in my latter years of high school. When I first heard the song “Up All Night”, I was hooked. Even now, all these years later, this song really picks me up in a way not many songs do. I feel… young… Literally, I listen to this song and I have so much energy running through me. I even play air drums to this song (I wanted to be a drummer in a band back then with a few of my friends). They say you’re only as old as you feel… Well, the last few days, I’ve felt anything but my age. I felt like I was 16 or 17 again! It’s pretty awesome to feel that way at my age. But then I see what these groups look like now and I feel old again…

Ah, well… Such is life…

This was a rather boring entry for you, my dear readers, wasn’t it? Just me spilling out the random thoughts in my mind…

Sadly, that’s how it is in my mind. It’s both light and dark, scary and wonderful, random and ponderous. Sometimes I need a vacation from all that. The only good thing about my brain is that I’m rarely bored. My brain will always give me something, whether it’s a song running through my head, playing a scene from a movie in my mind or making up wild, fantastical stories, all for my personal enjoyment. Sometimes my brain is my best friend and my worst enemy…

The Good, The Bad And The Real Fucking Ugly…

Two days ago, I had a Holter monitor put on for 24 hours to see what kind of fuckery my heart was up to…

Let me paint you a picture… First, they swabbed my skin with the coldest rubbing alcohol I’d ever felt (or maybe it felt that way because it was so hot outside and my skin was hot). Then they take this tiny little piece of sandpaper to buff your skin so the sensors stick. Thank god the alcohol was dried off by that point… They stick these sensor pads on and wires snap fast to them. Then, I suppose to add insult to injury, they put on a shit ton of the clear first-aid tape. I had 3 in the middle of my chest right above my boobs and 2 on the sides at the bottom of my rib cage. Then I had to wear the monitor, which was a bit bigger than an old pocket pager, in a pouch with a cord that went across me like a cross-body purse. I couldn’t shower, which didn’t go over well with my germaphobe side, so I ended up sleeping in the recliner in my living room with all this shit on. Obviously I didn’t sleep well…

Actually, it wasn’t horrible… The worst part, aside from the tape and sensors irritating the hell out of my skin (so itchy!) was the stupid cord that split into 5 wires for the sensors. What a pain in the ass… I found out how much a pain in the ass it was the first time I had to pee. I had a fairly long T-shirt on and the cord dipped down so low that it didn’t pull my shirt up on that side. So when I went pee that first time, I stood there for a second, baffled, wondering what the fuck do I do with this annoying cord?! In the end, I flipped my shirt up with the unit and extra cord inside of it. Success! Or it was until I finished, anyway… You have no idea (or I hope you don’t) what a pain in the ass it was to have to wrestle with a cord hanging from you because you almost zipped it up inside your pants… Seriously annoying… I wore pajama pants after that.

No lie, this was me when I finally pulled those sensors off…

I timed it perfectly so that the countdown timer went off just as I pulled into the cardiologist’s parking lot. Damn, I’m good… Anyway, I yanked off the 2 at the base of my ribs, then said “fuck it”, lifted my shirt up and ripped the ones from my chest. Hey, I was wearing a sports bra (more comfy than my normal heavy duty underwire bra) so all anyone saw was my boobs trying to escape their non-supportive covering. So yeah, I gave people a show and didn’t care. I wanted them off! Then I realized it may not have been the best idea… From the heat and me sweating, the adhesive had turned into this slimy, sticky goop. Eeew… Thank god I have the common sense to keep napkins in the glove compartment and have a bottle of hand sanitizer hooked to my purse. It was so gross! But I’m finally free! And, as long as they don’t call me, all is good with my ticker.

I’m also free of my anti anxiety meds, for the most part. That’s something my family doc and my shrink are happy about. My family doc was especially happily shocked and even told me, “You go, girl!” Hell yeah! At this point, I’ve only been taking a half milligram of Klonopin in the morning. Daytime is when I seem to have the worst anxiety (coffee, even only a quarter caffeine, doesn’t help I’m sure). It was tough… I went through some withdrawal that wasn’t pretty. Even the CBD oil I was taking didn’t help that much. But now I don’t even use the oil every day! Don’t get me wrong, I still get anxious and have moments of panic, but I’m able to talk myself down 99% of the time. I’m relying on my brain to fix itself and stop being an asshole. And my hippie-dippy stuff is helping, especially patchouli. It’s a very soothing scent to me. Plus I have my singing bowl, I’ve been wearing various crystals and patchouli oil… I know, sounds whacked, but it really works!

Whoever this is has “wtf” down to a science

However, these things sadly don’t relieve stress…

You guys all know what I mean by now, right? Yup, my “friend”, Morticia… Her name (her real one) has become like a dirty word, which is pretty much how I say it anymore. I’m not sure if she’s aware of what she does or not… But I just can’t anymore with her. I really can’t… The perpetual whining, bitching and changing her mind about Gomez (she’s like a fucking yo-yo), the constant moaning and groaning about how she doesn’t feel good and what’s ailing her, always the same things. There are times when I tell her it’s just her nerves. Anxiety and depression can do weird things to you physically. I just wish she’d listen to that bit of knowledge. Several times the doctor put her on anti depressants and each time she whines that she doesn’t feel good on them. The truth is that she doesn’t want to take them. She wants Xanax… Yeah, crawl into a bottle of pills or booze. That helps a lot… *eye roll*

I spoke to her yesterday morning and she told me she called off work. She was convinced she woke up with a fever (though she was unsure as she has no working thermometer) and her job bullied her into coming in against protocol with this COVID shit. Not that it’s hard to guilt trip her… Anyway, they ended up letting her go home at 10 because she was still nauseous. Mind you, she’s nauseous every day, so not sure this is an illness. She’s also going through menopause, so I’m thinking hot flash and not fever. Well, she starts bitching about her foot since this has been an issue for a while and she’s convinced it’s broken. I suggested she see a podiatrist, but no, she calls her family doctor because she wants an X-ray first. Whatever… She called the doctor, then called me back to say she got a virtual appointment. Thank goodness it was a short convo because I had gotten another call that I really wanted to take. But more on that later…

Now, she knew this was an important call to me (though not why) and it makes me wonder why she tried calling me twice, about 15 minutes apart, while I was on this other call. Then I get this text that said, “Thanks a lot, now I can’t go to work for a fucking week”… Excuse me?! Exactly how is this my fault that you can’t work for a week?! So I texted her back, told her I was still on the phone and asked what was up. Don’t you know, she doesn’t fucking read her texts and calls me. Fine, I answered and told her I couldn’t talk long because I was still on the phone. Apparently, she told her doctor that she had a fever that morning (again, who knows if she did) and the doctor was convinced she had an upper respiratory infection, the dizziness she’s been getting is vertigo (which is an ear thing, not always connected with the nose) and insists she get tested for COVID-19.

So… she’s blaming me for her needing to get a COVID test… And this is my fault how, exactly?! Listen, you constantly bitch about all your aches, pains and every fart twisted, constantly stating you don’t feel good at all every fucking day, I’m going to give you the best advice and tell you to go to the doctor. Anyone would do the same, am I right, dear readers? You feel that bad, go see a professional to get a physical. I didn’t force her to go, didn’t drag her kicking and screaming or put a gun to her fucking head (though sometimes I wish I could). Don’t put all that shit on me, okay? That’s all your dumb Munchausen’s ass. And then she wondered why I didn’t pick up my phone later on. Gee… I don’t fucking know. Maybe because you nastily blamed your problems on me?! Idiot…

I’ve also been taking notice to other things…

One issue she bitches about is how Gomez constantly puts her down. Yeah…? So I guess that makes it okay for her to turn around and, in the same breath, put me down. Oh, I don’t think so… Even though I don’t like to show off my big brain, I do have one. I know my IQ and it’s well above average. Hers is not… Yet she acts as if I’m the moron here. Nope, don’t think so, not having it… She also puts my doctors down for scaring me unnecessarily, which they’re not, and for me being worried about things. So… it’s okay for her to worry about shit, but not me?! Talk about a double standard! Besides, at least I know I’m fucking nuts… I whole-heartedly admit it, quite freely. I’m not ashamed of it. I own that shit. I can’t say the same for her. And, until she can, I don’t want to hear her shit. It’s going to get ugly real soon… I’ve flipped on people and made them cry before and don’t feel bad for it. Wait… it’s coming for her…

So… the important call I was on…

Imagine my surprise that, when I was talking to Morticia, I got a call from my friend, Anakin, who I wrote about sometime in December. We haven’t spoken since that awful fight. Honestly, I’m glad he waited this long to call me. I needed time to cool off and take care of my own stressful issues and he needed time to get his shit together. Admittedly, I was a little surprised that he apologized for everything, telling me he let everyone down including me, that he knew I was only trying to help and he shouldn’t have snapped on me and yelled like he did. I understand… I explained to him that he was still having issues coming to terms with his father dying, then he gets his heart broken; he was feeling overwhelmed and just snapped. I do the same myself. After 41 years of friendship, I can forgive him for that, considering the circumstances. Despite what he shows everyone else, I get to see the real Anakin, who is really just a scared little boy in many ways. I get to see the weakness he won’t show everyone. So we’re all good again. I’m glad. He’s always been a great friend and was there for me since we were 6 years old.

Sometimes, in life, you just have to stop and smell the flowers…

Which is what I’m trying to do right now. I don’t know if all this shit going on with my heart is the reason or if it’s because I’ve pretty much gone off my anti anxiety meds (for the most part). But you want to know something…? Life is too short to worry about things like some stupid fight you had with a good, lifelong friend. I’m not usually the forgiving type. It depends on how badly I was wronged. At the time that Anakin and I fought, I was going through some tough times myself. We were both overwhelmed by our circumstances and I couldn’t see the logic of why he was so pissed at the time. It’s hard to think logically when you’re in a bad state yourself. I can’t always be so strong for others all the time when wrestling with my own demons. I’ve come to accept that fact… I’m only human, though I don’t always show it. So, when on the path of life, I’m not going to forget to stop and smell the daisies.

As for Morticia…

Well… it may be time I say “sayonara” to her. She’s been such a huge source of my stress, which is what makes my heart go wonky (the stress). I’m already down on myself (my shrink got upset when I said I was fat the other day) and I don’t need her trying to make me feel more down on myself. Not that she succeeds, but it’s annoying that she’s trying just to feel good about herself. We’re not in high school anymore, get the fuck over yourself. So I think it’s time I cut her loose. Go whine to someone else about all your issues, real and imaginary. Go make someone else feel bad about themselves because you’re not getting anywhere here. Go sell crazy some place else because I’m all full up here… And learn to own that shit… I’m tired of listening to all this shit. It’s as if she wants me to fix her life. Sorry, only you can do that. I need to focus on me and fixing my own life. And remembering to stop and smell the daisies…

Just A Random Kind Of Entry…

I woke up this morning with Elton John’s “Sad Songs” running through my head and, subsequently, the version Sasson paid him to sing for their jeans back in the 80s…

It could be worse… I’ve woken up with all sorts of tunes in my head, not all of them ones I like. Yeah, we all get ear worms at one time or another, but my brain takes it to extremes. I haven’t heard the song currently in my head in decades. Worse, I don’t know why I wake up like this, with just some random song bopping about. Usually I can get them to go away, but there was this one time in high school… For no reason, Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street” was running through my head, from the time I woke up until I fell asleep, for 2 weeks straight! And I never even liked that song! It was torture! Luckily, they played it on the radio one day and I recorded it to a cassette in case it happened again. Listening to it got rid of the ear worm. Stupid thing is, now I actually like that song…

On a happier note, I finally figured out how to get my new Tibetan singing bowl to sing! Go me!

I was bound and determined to figure this shit out… I mean, yeah, it sounds nice when you just strike it and it resonates a decent amount of time. But I wanted mine to sing, damn it! I even had other people try it like how I saw it demonstrated on YouTube. Nothing… But I kept on trying and dorking with it. Now, I still don’t know how those people got theirs to work… The gist is that you strike it at the point where it bulges out furthest and run the mallet around the outside near the rim. Easy enough, right? Nope, I just couldn’t get it to work. All these people used the padded end of the striker, which ended up stopping the vibration for me. So I decided to strike it with the padded end and use the wooden end to run around the outside so that, hopefully, the vibration wouldn’t stop. Success! It sang! Beautifully, I might add…

Can I get radio stations from around the globe with this…?

Anyway… Yesterday I had to go see the cardiologist, again, because this was not a good week.

I wasn’t thrilled about going because I was leery that they might end up having me admitted to get my tests done sooner. Luckily that wasn’t the case. I did get scolded for not going to the ER Sunday when I felt really awful after walking around the flea market in that excessive heat… Apparently, any time something is wonky, that’s where I’m to go to see what’s going on. Yeah, I’ll rush right in with all the COVID patients to have them tell me it’s just my anxiety, right? Hahahaa… Nope. Well, the NP I saw decided she wanted to get a Holter monitor on me yesterday, but they were all out and in use. Now I go back Monday to get one on for 24 hours. Isn’t that lovely looking… Looks like I’ll be wearing R2D2’s innards on me. Worse, you can’t shower. That’s not going to be good… I’m a germaphobe! I won’t touch any area I call a clean zone without being squeaky clean. I have no idea where I’ll sleep…

So, to keep myself stress free (sort of), I’ve been playing an awful lot of Animal Crossing New Horizons.

I named my place Zen Isle because I wanted a peaceful place to escape to and avoid stress. And, on occasion, laugh at the weird things my villagers do or say. Like this scene I came across one afternoon… What the fuck is going on here, exactly…? Animal Crossing Mafia…? Yakuza…?! I have no idea, but it looked pretty freaky… What exactly were they planning?

Sometimes I get a good laugh at how goofy and stupid they are. Like this interaction with my favorite villager, Punchy, in the art section of the museum. When I approached him to speak to him, this was his response to me. Mind you… he was looking at the Mona Lisa… Aside from the fact that it’s the most famous painting in the world, I’m pretty sure this is not his mom. She died centuries ago and she’s also not a cat. So when he said this, I said, “What the fuck?!” and burst out laughing. Laughter is the best medicine, so they say.

But amazing as some think my island looks, it’s really not that great in comparison to some. I’ve seen YouTube videos where people went all bat shit insane. A medieval theme, a zoo theme, a Harry Potter theme, even a murder mystery island! They have the most well laid out design, gorgeous terraforming, and they cheated to get items we can’t get yet in the northern hemisphere. I can’t help but watch these videos and get disgusted with how mine looks. Maybe it’s time for massive change…

All I know is that I want my island to be beautiful yet peaceful. I want it to have that feeling of zen without being too crazy.

If nothing else, at least it helps my anxiety, a little… And it’s helping my creativity to come back, to a small degree. I think if I can keep those creative juices flowing, maybe I can start getting rid of stress and relieving anxiety. Or cause more trying to make my island some sort of fucking masterpiece. I’m so particular…

A Vain Attempt To Heal Thyself

The other day I went to a different new age shop (as my normal store was still closed due to COVID-19) in a vain attempt to find some items that might help me to relieve stress and anxiety. Normally, just being in one of those stores makes me feel at ease, sometimes even at peace. So I knew something was wrong when I didn’t actually feel much better and actually felt a bit lost.

The thing about new age shops… Obviously they’re hippie-dippy, which is why I feel so calm and relaxed there. Maybe this just wasn’t the right store for me. Or maybe it’s because of the funk I’ve been in that I haven’t been feeling at ease. Who knows… Mind you, that didn’t stop me from shopping ’til I dropped. I bought anything and everything I thought might help or just caught my eye. And, you can imagine, spent way more money than one person should. When did being a hippie get so expensive?!

One thing I’ve been wanting, and finally broke down and bought, is a Tibetan singing bowl. In fact, the one I bought looks much like this one, except my mallet has a soft coating on the end being used… Anyway, this type is mass produced, not hand hammered. It still cost me $78! Now you know why I’ve passed prior to this… I’ve seen people using them, have heard how they sound, and I thought this might be exactly what I need. So I shelled out the money for it (along with like another $100, yikes) and brought it home. As I wasn’t exactly sure how to make them sing, I turned to YouTube, your source for just about everything in the world. I watched some videos and it looked simple enough. So I set my bowl on this nice little doughnut (sold separately, of course) and did what the video showed. No singing… So I held it on my palm, like in this picture. No singing… I’m beginning to think I’m incredibly inept with this thing.

I bought all sorts of stuff… I bought a bracelet made of quartz crystals which is supposed to be good for healing the heart (could really use that now), some incense cones (patchouli, of course, and green tea), some incense made by Buddhist monks, a new bag for my malas, a bamboo flute, a beautiful resin charm with real flowers in it that look like a sakura tree…I even bought some stickers, which I’m a sucker for.

And I bought this cute little guy…

I saw a box full of these metal discs that were printed with spirit animals. Now, not knowing which animal served what purpose, I decided to just look at them and pick up the one that spoke to me. I know that sounds weird, but seriously, when you are compelled to buy something, isn’t the reason because it appeals to you in some way? Believe me, it is… It spoke to you. And so this particular spirit animal spoke to me. I smiled when I saw it and picked it up.

When I turned it over, this is what was written on the back.

No wonder I was drawn to this one… It also explains why I love to go see the otters at the local game preserve… Wise little otters…

Funny that I should choose this one, actually. Things have been very stressful for me over the years and for the past year or 2, I haven’t really been about to imagine or play, really. Perhaps that’s why I’m having all these difficulties… I’ve always been one for mischief and have always had a rather vivid imagination. But… I don’t know. I suppose it was just the stresses in life? Something just sucked all the imagination and playful mischief right out of me. That’s why I haven’t really had any inspiration to create for several years. No drawing, no painting, no nothing… I’m even having difficulty writing stories. So choosing the otter was no mistake. I think I was compelled to chose this one, a gentle reminder to imagine and play.

But that night, I forgot about the otter…

You guys all know oil and water don’t mix… I’m sure most of you have made homemade lava lamps with oil, water and food coloring, yeah? And you know it works because oil and water don’t mix. Well… bipolar and bipolar don’t mix, either…

I don’t wish to go into detail… Let’s just say that a family member is also bipolar and doesn’t take meds (whereas I do, though I have no clue why). Anyway, this person flipped shit on me, claiming I was talking shit about them when all I had done was make a simple request to be courteous. Needless to say, this entailed the person flipping shit, getting nose to nose with me, so angry they were literally foaming at the mouth. Horrible things were said, a death threat was made towards me… Not that this is new… It’s happened so many other times, I’ve lost count. I kept my cool, stood my ground. But, after the fact, when I finally lost my stoic demeanor, I had a meltdown, literally sobbing. You know, if someone says horrible things and attacks your abilities as a human being, eventually you begin to believe what they’re telling you… It’s kind of unavoidable.

As I said, this has happened with this family member before. And every time, I get the apology after.

Don’t get me wrong, I think a true, heart-felt apology is important when you fuck up. The thing is, this quote is quite accurate. If you continue the behavior you’re supposedly sorry for, your apology means nothing. I know we all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry, but to continue to say the same things every time we’re angry, to continuously repeat the pattern of attacking your character, making threats towards you and continually saying you’re sorry? Eventually the apology means nothing to you. Actions speak louder than words… And this is a prime example. I’ve told this person multiple times that sorry isn’t good enough anymore because the behavior never stops. That hasn’t computed yet, I suppose… And, before you all get the wrong idea, no, this is not an abusive relationship. Not a significant other, a family member. I would never stay in an abusive relationship. I had one once… I called the cops and left…

Either way, damage was done… and it really manifested itself yesterday…

It started in the morning where I had heart palpitations out of nowhere (the first in a long time). Then my heart began to race… I figured it was simply my anxiety and stress from the night before, but I was still a bit concerned, considering. So I called my family doctor who told me to take one of my anti-anxiety pills to determine if that was the cause of everything and also told me to call the cardiologist I saw. See, I wanted to avoid that… I didn’t want to go to the emergency room with all this COVID shit… But I called and left a message on the nurse’s line. She called back in like 2 minutes. Wow… She actually tried to get me in yesterday, but she couldn’t squeeze me in. So now I go this afternoon. I really would rather not. I really don’t want to go to the ER. Especially for this… I’m scared…

It’s funny how people can be so uncaring and inconsiderate…

Mind you, I’ve told everyone close to me what’s going on so that they try their best not to stress me out. Most have done that (except Morticia, the Munchausen’s queen). But there are some who just don’t get it. I don’t expect anyone to walk on eggshells, but I don’t need anyone flipping shit and stressing me. Bipolar and bipolar don’t mix…

So… now I have all these new age items, the ones I bought the other day and ones I bought over the last I don’t know how many months. And I’ve made a decision… I need to build that art studio I’ve been wanting for a long time. And when I do, you better believe that all my items will be in it. In essence, it’s going to be an art studio/zen den. Actually, that isn’t as stupid as it sounds… When I’m creating art, I have a sense of zen. Combining a place to create with all my new age, hippie-dippy items, I think, will bring me the zen I’m searching for. That’s what I need right now… That and a lot of good vibes. Please send some out, dear readers. I really need them…