Not entirely certain what’s going on with my body anymore. I give up on trying to make sense of it. I’ve tried taking my meds earlier, later, somewhere in between, and nothing seems to give me any sort of relief. On a scale of 1-10 I’m feeling a 12, but in an hour I could shoot up to a 15 or straight down to a -30. Who knows. Definitely not me.
The meds, they make me nonfunctional.. I have all this Gogogogogogogogogo!!!! but it’s like I’m trapped inside my own body. I can’t DO. I want to GO!!!!! It’s 8:30 [yay daylight's savings?] and I want to go weed the garden. Not that bad in and of itself, right? Except it becomes a compulsion. So I try to avoid it, even though I know it’d make me feel better simply because I’d be DOING. But then I go out there to do just that and suddenly my brain is fried and one movement to the next seems like I’ve missed several steps in between. Does that even make sense?
I’ve been cruising Craig’s List all morning.. First it was the houses for rent. Those depress me, because I know that no matter what I do I’ll never be able to get that. Despite everything else, even despite the no income, I can’t leave simply because I can’t do so much. On a bad day, I can’t cook. Who do I turn to when I can’t even get out of bed to help me with the animals? Even on the good days, who helps me work through a multiple step project? I baked a coffee cake last night, but only because She helped me go down the list of ingredients and the order of things.
Anyways, so I was good and depressed when I went and cruised the personals. A couple made me laugh – one guy went on this long rant that I thoroughly enjoyed.. Then there was the guy who wanted a 1950′s relationship. I fairly swooned. Oh, to be Suzie Homemaker!!! To do nothing all day but starch collars and iron, make scrumptious meals, and have his martini waiting when he came through the door!! But wait, I can’t manage anything more than nuking some oatmeal in the mornings.. Some days I’m lucky if I brush my hair, forget getting dressed. I am a mental patient craving that environment. Structure helps me so much, but who am I to ask that of anyone? No one wants to stick with the crazy. Hell, few want to stick it in the crazy!
People claiming to be friends, to want to help. The mangy stray kitten they’ll pick off the street, just as easily forgotten. I mean so very little to so very many people. That hurts. I thought I meant more, I thought.. I thought, that was my first mistake. This is going down a bad road, but I want to follow it through. I want to see where I end, if I end, does it ever really end? Why me? What is it about me that makes me so fucking disposable to everyone? The person that’s only good for use as needed? I don’t understand. I can only be what I am, but how does that translate into that? I don’t get it. I go over it a thousand times, trying to pinpoint the moment where what I thought was caring became.. Nothing. Analyze it to death and I come back with no real conclusions. I don’t know the why of it, or the when, or the how.. Is it just that it’s so gradual you can’t see it? Is it that I’m refusing to see it because I want to think I mean something to someone? Anyone.. I just want to mean something to someone. I want someone to tell me that I do mean something.
Okay, whatever, have to have your own self worth and blahblah.. I know I’m worth something. I know I’m a good person. You will find no one more loyal than I am, no one more ready to be there when you need them, no one who will see it through like me.. I’m kind, I’m generous, I’m a fighter, I am fucking strong. I am independent in my own ways. I am so very many things and yet I am nothing to them. I don’t get it.
Fuck. Crying now. Meds aren’t kicking in like they had been. I’m a bouncy ball of DOOM and go up, down, up, down, up.. Maybe that’s why I mean nothing to them…