Angry depressed ranting.

I just had the following conversation with myself, out loud:
"Do your taxes, Martha!"
"No! I don't wanna!"

You see, I'm experiencing this right now. Also this. It's a bad combination. I am managing to do the very basics to not get fired/evicted/kicked out of writers' group, but that's pretty much it. I am sure I'll get my taxes done on time because my fear of the consequences of not doing so is I'm sure greater than the dangerous emotional cocktail I have going on that's making me fail at life right now.

Oh god, I smell smoke.
And apparently I'm paranoid.
Back to it, Martha!
Shut up, they'll think you're crazy!
Seriously though, I smell smoke.
It's probably not the apartments burning down.
Shut up.

I don't know how much my current emotional state is due to brain chemistry or how much it is just the self-inflicted trials of life getting to me.

There are people who love me and care about me and I know everybody fucks up sometimes, but it doesn't seem to matter. I'll get self-abusive mentally and physically, which just makes me feel crazier and like nobody should love me or care about me because I'm just too much goddamn trouble. I feel like I should just go away. I don't mean suicide, necessarily. Mostly just social suicide. Stop talking to people on the internet or in person. Just go to work to make money to live and go home. If you don't interact with people, you can't hurt them and they can't hurt you.
Just barely exist until you don't.
I was crossing a street... yesterday? day before? I don't know anymore... and I didn't look first. It was no big deal; I knew that street almost never had traffic. But still I scolded myself for a moment until I realized that I kind of didn't care right then that I didn't die. I knew it was selfish and stupid and that I should care about the pain it would cause other people if I died; you know--those people I mentioned who love me and care about me and DO care whether or not I get hit by cars.

I still smell smoke.

I don't even know what I'm getting at, here. I've already thought several times about just erasing all of this, but now that I don't have someone dictating what I should or shouldn't say or feel, I'm going to try to get back to this being unfiltered expression because that's what this whole thing is supposed to be for.

It's really ironic; I have a mental block about keeping a journal, because I have never had a private journal remain private. Someone always feels like they have the fucking right to look in it for whatever reason. No thoughts to myfuckingself. Can't keep a journal but I'm fine making a public blog. Whatever.

I hate self righteousness.

I need a hug but I don't feel like I deserve one.

I don't smell smoke anymore. I guess someone put the fire out.

Mortified.

Mortified is a really good word. It's a good word in general -- very colorful and strong. It's also a very good word -- perfect, in fact -- for how I'm feeling right now. My heart won't stop pounding and I'm nauseated and I wish I could just erase the last 24 hours from existence.
And no, I don't want to talk about it.

Irony's a bitch.

I swear, the universe is fucking with me.

Universe: "Oh, you want to be an independent adult and take care of yourself, huh?"
Me: "Yes please."
U: "Can you take care of yourself when you're sick? Here's the flu."
M: "Fine. I've been sick before."
U: "Big girl, huh? Well then, can you take care of yourself with less money from taking sick time off work? And ooh, they might see you as undependable now."
M: "..."
U: "Nice to see you got yourself home in the rain without too much whining. Go warm up; you have a radiator and a space heater and a microwave to heat up that rice bag you like to put on your tummy and you can have hot water with lemon."
M: "That'll be so nice."
U: "Oops, blown fuse! Did I do that?"
M: "FFFFFUUUUUUUUUU--"

Ain't it da truth.

"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."

I've seen that credited to a few different people, so who knows who actually said it. Whoever it was, they were pretty sharp.

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Last night we rented a uhaul to move Sunrise's stuff to his new place and to a storage unit. We got a late start, so it was cold and icy.
Doing it earlier wouldn't have mattered though; the tires on the uhaul still would have sucked and we still would have gotten stuck without any traction at the bottom of a steep culdesac and we still would have had to get the uhaul towed.
Yeah. That was fun.

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Today was the first day I would have normally been working. Instead, I spent all day packing (with a little break I probably shouldn't have taken to get a massage a friend owed me). I mainly focused on dishes today. They are almost all packed now, and I just need to figure out a good way to pack pots & pans. Or rather, something to pack them IN. We are woefully short on moving boxes. Sunrise picked up a few from the comic shop today, but he said the majority of what they had were too small for much of anything... :/
So tomorrow we try to get some free packing boxes/materials from craigslist. Meanwhile, HOLY CRAP TWO DAYS
Ahem. I meant to say... Meanwhile, we have to pick up the truck for Monday's move tomorrow because of the stupid holiday. Whose genius idea was it to move on New Year's Eve? Sunrise wanted me to wait until spring, but nooooo... Oh well. Stuck with it now.
It will all be ok.
Because it has to be.

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Also, just to top it off, packing has been covering my hands in dust which turns into grime and drives me crazy. So I've been washing my hands a bajillion times a day (seriously, I counted—bajillion). The thing about washing your hands so much is it sucks the moisture out of your skin like a frickin' Dementor for your hands. I have a rash all over the dorsal side of my hands and the anterior side of my wrists, extending up my forearms. I'm afraid to put lotion on at this point because I know it'll burn with the fiery, barbed tongue of a devilcat. Whine whine whine. Harden up, Martha.

Oh, irony of ironies.

We spent all of Boxing Day packing to move.

Bleh.

I hate this.

Common Courtesy

Please note the undercurrent of sarcasm in today's post. Thank you.

I wish clients would tell me a day in advance when they are going to "no show" at Massage Envy. Then I could plan for days like this, when I have two appointments that don't show up so I have a 3 1/2 hour break in the middle of my work day.

I could bring a book. I could take a tranquilizer and get some sleep. I could bring some costumes and play dress up. I could give my brain permission to go to my writing place for several hours and get more than a couple sentences done in a day for once. I could go drink sake and have time to sober up before working again.

Come on, clients. Gimme something.

Losing it.

I can't believe I'm crying this much over a pub.

Somebody told me not long ago, "Remember, divorce is the death of a marriage, and you will grieve."
Tonight Sunrise and I went to Old Mill Brew Wërks, which has become "our place". Not long after arriving, I felt very depressed. Sunrise noticed, which made me start to cry. I tried to hide it, but the more he asked me what was wrong, the more I was unable to stop my tears.
Rudy's laugh—his awesomely genuine, goofy laugh—really did me in.
I'm not going to hear that anymore.
I'm not going to have someplace where everybody knows my name (cue "Cheers" theme song)—or if I get one eventually, they will know me alone. And that just feels sad.
Nobody is going to know what I like and make me special dishes and greet me warmly.
I am going to feel SO out of place.

Why am I doing this, again?

Oh, that's right, because I want to stop fucking things up.

Cheers to that.

Gimme some cheese with my whine...

I was at Thump in between clients getting a Mayan cocoa and the barista filled it to just short of overflowing, which meant the whipped cream stuck up over the edge of the cup about an inch. I had to put a lid on it and get back to my office, so I was trying to take sips of it first so I wouldn't spill it all over while putting the lid on. I dribbled a tiny bit on my chin in the effort. I grabbed a napkin and was cleaning up and feeling a little self-conscious. For some reason, the barista decided at this point that it was a good idea to tease me for spilling. I just said "yeah" and left. I was unreasonably angry. I wanted to have said "Fuck. You." instead. I'm glad I didn't, because I recognize that that would have been a horrible overreaction, but I sure felt like it.

I guess I'm a little sensitive today.

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So many Halloween festivities to choose from! I'm going to try to make it to the Monster Ball on Friday, the McMenamins party on Saturday, and cosmic bowling at Sun Mountain then Silver Moon (solely for the screaming contest which I WILL WIN) on Halloween itself.

Also, I finally made my Halloween costume last night and it looks awesome and I'm really excited. I think maybe this year I won't have to explain to every single person what I am. Hopefully. As a friend said, "never underestimate the stupidity of the public". XP

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I'm having another one of those times when the thought of eating anything makes me feel sick. It sucks. Maybe I could have soup. Maybe.

What a day.

High emotion.

I don't even remember what I was originally planning on writing about today...

Maybe the fact that I'm definitely on the road to health?

I certainly wasn't planning on writing about old memories coming back to torment me in disgusting, traumatic detail.

I'm sure I also wasn't planning to write about how I felt good about an action at first and mere hours later was hating myself (which these days = hitting myself) for fear and dread of bad consequences. It turned out ok, I guess; too bad I couldn't just keep a level head so now my thighs have to pay for it. You know what? I still feel good about the action. It was something I wanted to do, and I believe it had the effect I was hoping for. So yeah.

I'm tired, and my brain is a wreck. I need less stress and more clarity, and I need it now. I've made a couple changes that have helped, but it isn't enough. At this point it seems like anything I could do that would help with my current stress would just cause stress of a different variety.

THE GOOD:
1. I am definitely on the road to health; I got acupuncture and cupping again on Wednesday and since then, my sinuses have been mercifully clear and I'm now coughing up white/clear gunk from my lungs instead of brown/green gunk. Also, my energy level is up and I'm breathing a lot more easily.
2. Today I was thinking about nicknames (nice ones, not mean ones) and it made me smile really big.

Hmm. Only two. Oh well.

Emo-Martha, signing off.