Dear Penis Owners

 

This is an open letter to those who have given me unsolicited "advice" (aka telling me what the fuck to do) over the last few days. While I appreciate having a penis is a prerequisite to having an opinion where you're from, it is not however necessary in my world. In my world, a non penis owner has as much right to not only have an opinion, but to *gasp* make decisions based upon what they think is right. Non penis owners do not have to follow the advice (aka orders) of penis owners. In my world, having a penis, makes you  a dick. It does not make you intelligent or know it all. While I appreciate your interference in my life and giving me advice I did not ask you for, I'd like to request you keep your nose and penis out of my life in the future. 

I realize this comes as a shock to you because in the past I usually bended to your will, and now I'm not. I believe in my ability to decide what is best for ME and I know that your decisions are based on what is best for YOU. Maybe that makes me selfish, but I really don't give a fuck because it's my world and non penis owners make the rules. So suck on that.

Five Days Since...

I first noticed the leak in the kitchen sink.

Four days 23 hrs 59 mins 34 secs since I first asked my husband to call the plumber to fix the leak in the kitchen sink

Two weeks 6 days 10 hrs 37 mins 23 secs until he'll probably call the plumber to fix the leak in the kitchen sink I noticed five days ago.

1,231, 432,678,416,397,001 that's the number of times I'll have to yell at him during the two weeks 6 days 10 hrs 37 mins and 23 secs before he actually calls the plumber to fix the leak in the kitchen sink I noticed five days ago. 

What it'll take for him to get his ass out of the dog house after he finally calls the plumber to fix the leak in the kitchen sink I noticed five days ago:

Shit Happens

It's been ten days since my last post. I feel like I should recite some hail maries or something. I need to make a concious effort to write here more, but I have people in my life that allow me to email them 25 times a day if I need to. So the need to write here has lessened. But sometimes I just need to write. To flow with the words. To bend and twist and twine with them. To let them tickle my toes and blow whispers on my lashes. Sometimes I need to let go. 

Let go of the constant need of perfection. And of the constant fear of rejection when my imperfections are seen. I've made mistakes this week. Not life shattering mistakes. Just tiny little errors in my work. No major catastrophe ensured. They were rectified immediately. But yet I felt that gnawing pain of failure eating away at my insides. Consuming me. Trying to suck me back in. I could feel the wetness of its tongue as it slid over me. Then I pushed it away. It's still there. I can see its shadow. Hears its breath as it draws it in and out. I see him and he sees me, but there is a distance. A distance I wasn't able to put between us before. A distance I'm struggling to maintain, but somehow it remains. 

While in many ways I'm alien, I'm still part humanoid. I'm going to make mistakes but that's ok.. Shit happens. That's why they invented bleach.

Facing the Fear

I just had a very strange thing happen. Two days ago I had a major panic attack. It was brought on by the thought of having to speak to someone on the phone. A very close friend of mine, a  person who has ridden this bipolar roller coaster with me for more than ten years now, and one of the few people I've not managed to drive away asked me to make a phone call for him. I agreed and two hours later began having a MAJOR panic attack at the thought of having to make this phone call. Four hours later I was in the middle of a full blown panic attack that has taken me almost two days to recover from. During those two days I deleted his emails without reading them and turned my phone off so I wouldn't have to answer his calls. For two days he continued to email and phone me until finally I was brave enough to open the email, and when I did I got the shock of my life.

It wasn't an email telling me to fuck off like I had expected. It was an email asking if I was ok, why wasn't I answering my phone and what was wrong with me. Nothing more so I replied and I told him why I hadn't done what he asked of me.. His reply? No worries as long as you're ok. 

I began telling him how I wasn't ok and as a joke at the very end I asked him if he knew anyone who could prescribe me some Seroquel 300 mg. That is what I was on in 2004, the last time I actually took meds for my bipolar. He replied with a "WTF do you need that for?". I said, "Because I have bipolar and went into graphic detail about my illness, symptoms, and hospitalizations. I fully believed he would run away. He knows I'm not "normal" but he's always just thought I was a bit overly dramatic. Even though I've said to him "I'm bipolar". It never clicked with him because you see he's a brit and in UK they don't use the term "bipolar" often. Or at least not according to him. So it never truly sank in as to what I meant when I said that, but when I sent him a link from a UK pharmacy with the UK name of the meds and UK description he knew instantly and had an ah-ha moment of sorts. All the ten years of irrational illogical moments fell into place for him and he finally understood why I am the way I am. That it's not because I'm just high strung or a bit melodramatic, but because I have a true psychiatric condition that requires meds I'm not taking and do not have access to. 

He even said he would help me get access to my meds. If anyone can, I'm sure he will. Sometimes I'm so afraid of rejection, so afraid of abandonment that I send myself into a full blown panic. Even though he's been with me for ten years, I still am terrified I'm going to drive him away. I couldn't believe that he didn't run away when I told him the dirty bits of my insanity. He didn't call me names or criticize me, but he understood. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. It's rare that I feel like people in my real life are on my side. He's one of the few people I count on and the thought of losing him is beyond bearable. So I'm actually feeling quite a bit better now. Which is rare for me. Even all of the other shit going on seems less. I'm going to take this moment while it lasts and enjoy it.

Signs It's Easing Up

This morning I showered, shaved, brushed my teeth AND hair. This is how when I'm almost through the panic. When I know it's almost over. When I care enough to do more than squirt a little toothpaste on my finger or realize putting my hair in a bun does not equal brushing. When the stubble irritates me so much I finally have no choice, I either shave or scream. This is how I know it's about to subside. This is how I know to hold on just a little while longer. To ignore the die bitch die emails, to ignore the things that are adding to my panic. Hold on it's almost over.

Panic Button

For the last five days I've basically been in panic mode. One panic attack right after another. Non stop for five days. Needless to say I haven't slept, ate, or done much of anything during that time. I barely was able to breathe. Then finally yesterday it erupted. The full blown panic that I had been holding in just burst forth and I spewed all of the java juice that had been bubbling inside all over a long time friend. A friend I've somehow managed to keep for more than ten years.Not because I was awesomest of friends but because he was. Day before yesterday he asked me to make a phone call, tell a person 3-4 things and hang up..No big deal right? Except it caused the mini panic attacks I'd been having over the previous four days to become one full blown monster ass panic attack and I could NOT do this seemingly simple task he asked me to do.

He's emailed me several times since then. I simply delete the emails. I am afraid to read them. I turned my phone off because I can't deal with being yelled at. It'd only bring on another panic attack and at the moment I'm not quite sure I can handle another one. I wish people could understand I can only be pulled in so many directions at once before I snap, but it's hard to understand when I seem so normal for most of the time. I work, support an entire family, make sure every single thing is taken care of , bills paid, food is bought. You name it I take care of it. I even managed to start my own business but all the while on the inside I'm falling apart. I cry every single time I go to the bathroom or make tea. Tears no one sees. Pain no one feels. Panic no one understands.

I don't know if I've done too much this time to repair my friendship. Honestly a part of me doesn't care. I've spent my entire life worrying about every one else and not a single day worrying about me. Right now my mental status is not very good. I'm barely holding onto my sanity. I can't worry who gets upset with me, who walks away. If they walk away, then they weren't that important. While I KNOW all of this, it still tears me up inside everytime someone leaves. I still panic at the thought of being rejected and abandoned by someone who was never truly there for me in the first place.

PANIC. It's the state I'm in right now. Today is a little better. My panic attack yesterday brought on fever, vomiting, the works. So in my daze I took a double dose of meds which knocked my ass out. I slept for the first time in more than a week. I'm still a little fuzzy headed due to the meds, but I'm more relaxed than I've been in over a week. I think I'm going to go lie down now.

i give in.