I realized that I hadn’t done a post this week. I wanted to do something so here we are, I guess.
-I. Am. Tired.
-I hurt my ankle again somehow and I’m sitting here with it propped up with ice and that whole deal. My warranty ended on my 30th birthday and it’s been legit downhill from there.
-I had a job interview yesterday. I’d kinda, really like very much to have that job. I’ll tell you about it after I get it.
-I need to stop eating my feelings. Because fat.
-Not as fat as…let me stop there.
-Aside from all the stuff happening in the news and my ankle being stupid this hasn’t been a bad week.
-I need to do a better job practicing self-care because every time I log into social media or read another story I tear up.
-Did I mention I was tired?
-Guess what? I still don’t like small talk. That probably makes me horrible. *sips water*
-That wasn’t a thought. This isn’t one either.
-I want a puppy. A corgi. Currently engaged in a battle with my mom over whether the new dog will be a Corgi or a Labradoodle. She’s team no corgi because shedding. I’m team corgi because stumpy legs.
-Yeah. I still live with my mother. Not explaining that shit anymore either. Argue your Auntie.
-I’m using my Tumblr account again. I’d like to follow you if you have one. I’m sarcasmandcandy there also as well.
-My 8 year old nephew just got up and gave me a hug. He’s real.
Okay that’s me. What’s going on in your world? Tell me something good. I need it.
I shared a blog post on Facebook yesterday. It reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to say for a minute now. This isn’t going to be particularly fun but I need to say it so I can stop trying to explain myself. I hope this doesn’t get too rambly. You have my apologies if it does.
I went off to college in 2000. I was depressed then but it didn’t really strike me how bad off I was until I realized one day while lying in my dorm room that I had been mentally preparing a note to my mother apologizing for my future actions. Something clicked and I went to my advisor’s office where I couldn’t even explain between sobs why I had to leave the campus as soon as possible. He called my mom and I was home before the end of the week. I’d like to think that after one visit to a therapist and a few weeks in my “norm” that the oppressive cloud of depression lifted and all was good. Instead I learned to mask really well. I got a job, brought a car, spent every weekend out. I lived to be contrary to just about every thought that said “girl just sit down and get through this”. Sitting still meant dealing with the fact that I wasn’t okay. At some point the pain that I was holding inside began to manifest as outside pain and I was eventually diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. I became conscious of my depression and I had to deal with it. I did in time but I know that it’s still a thing that can sneak up on me again so I’m hyper-aware of it.
Here’s where I have a problem: unless you know me personally; meaning you have had several conversations with me or you are a mental health professional YOU CANNOT TELL ME WHEN I’M DEPRESSED. My best friend knew before I did. I don’t know what she identified first but she knew. The rest of y’all don’t get to decide that I’m depressed because I’m a homebody. In fact, let’s stop the false equivalency that homebody=depression. It’s irritating and I’m tired of explaining it to people who want to be the first to say that I am depressed in hopes that their broken clock is right this time. I don’t need you to swoop in and save me from myself. If I decide I’d rather spend the night with a book or netflix and a glass of wine I assure you I’m okay.
Most of you didn’t know that I actually had a problem with depression until I told you. You probably just thought I was boring which is fine. Boring is also a thing that I’ve come to terms with. I’m just trying to live and I don’t need anyone trying to fix me. I’m not broken. Just let me have my glass of Syrah and the first two seasons of Hannibal. If it’s the one or two times during the year I want to go do something decidedly unboring I’ll let you know. My mental health though, that’s gonna be my business (unless of course I want to share with you).
I have a few ideas that could be posts but most of them dissolved into expletive laden rants. I decided that this would be a better use of
time, energy, sanity, words. Yeah…words.
-Don’t come by my house unannounced, breh. I’m currently dealing with a habitual offender of this rule and it’s testing my gangsta.
-Don’t test my gangsta. I will seriously kick you in the shins.
-I had to re-home my adorable corgi puppy last year (or was it the year before?) because of a complicated home situation. I miss my her. My sister either thinks she’s helping or she likes torturing me because she keeps sending me pictures of corgis. We’re averaging like one a week.
-I have developed a bad habit of typing text messages and not sending them. I put my phone down thinking I sent them and minutes (or in one case hours) later I realize I’m the reason the conversation ended.
-I’m finishing Holly Madison’s memoir. It’s surprisingly good. It’s a good, quick summer read.
-If you look at my Goodreads account right now it says that I’m also reading Pride and Prejudice. I am not. It was boring and forever taking so I stopped.
-I probably shouldn’t call literary classics boring. I was bored reading it. Maybe it’s me.
– Preparing stuff for alcoholic beverages is always gonna be more important than food prep. Know this.
-Miguel’s new album is pretty good. Give it a listen.
-I have yet to have a good watermelon this summer.
That’s all the random I could think of. What kinda random is going on in your life?