My Year To Thrive

"My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style." ~Maya Angelou

Growing While Sitting Still

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Sometimes we grow while sitting still.
~Me, to my previous therapist
She thought it sounded smart.

I'm tired... a list of reasons to finish that & ends with "But most of all, I'm just tired of being tired."

(Note: I wrote this last night & scheduled it for this morning, so when I talk about “today” I am referring to Friday.)

There is a sense in our society that we have to be active, on the move to grow.  The idea of sitting still & being quiet for a while as a mechanism for growth is ludicrous.  Stop?  We can’t stop!  We have plans & goals & stuff to do.

I have found a few days of quiet solitude can be worth weeks or months of dragging an open wound through the mud.  I have been having one of those weeks.  I haven’t quite gotten back on track since my routine was shaken up by the weekend of house sitting a few weeks ago.  Try as I might, I just haven’t gotten everything to gel again yet.  I had a bit of a break down on Monday when I wanted to clean house, but couldn’t find my mp3 player.  I like to listen to the Mental Health Happy Hour podcast while I clean because it keeps me going much longer than I would on my own.  I hate housework & I’m really lazy about it.

I have been feeling a bit manic lately & when I couldn’t find my mp3 player (turns out I had packed it in my laptop bag & forgotten) I had a major meltdown.  This led to me taking to my bed for a few days because I didn’t know what to do with all the rage inside me other than run away to join the circus or setting this place on fire.  Since I don’t know where the circus even is, I wasn’t left with any good options.

To a lot of people this would probably seem self-indulgent, & I won’t deny it is to an extent, but knowing myself it was the best thing for me to do.  I have learned over the years when I can power through it & when it is time to take a few days to be alone to sort through my feelings & decide what I need to do with them.   Like now, sometimes there are just no good answers & you have to just stay the course however much it sucks & find the lesson in it.  Use the time to quietly grow as a person.  I’m certain by the time I get out of here I am going to be an awesome fucking person.

Beyond the cut, this post devolves into self-pity, so it’s up to you if want to bother reading my whining.

I don’t talk a lot of about the current status of my home life, but suffice it to say it is very toxic for me, mentally & physically.  This place is very old & has not been kept up.  It still hasn’t been repaired from last year’s tornado damage other than the roof was fixed enough so it doesn’t leak.  My father chooses to live like it’s Xtreme Hoarders sweeps week, & I have to live here in order to pay the bills since he has been out of a job & his unemployment ran out.  So for the last 3yrs I have been trying to make do in this place & bring it to some semblance of habitability, but he fights me tooth & nail on everything.

He combs through the trash if he thinks I’ve thrown anything away.  The best part is these are things that have been tossed in corners mingling with trash, generally broken & filthy by the time I get to them, & he usually leaves the stuff outside after he saves it from the garbage.  That’s how awesomely important this stuff is.  It doesn’t even deserve to come back inside the house.

I’ve been trying to get the dining room table cleared off for the entire time I’ve been here so I can have a sewing area, but he is pathological with his need to cover any empty surface he sees.  A broken TV sat on the table for months until I took it to my storage unit (the garbage won’t take them & nowhere around here recycles TVs, so there isn’t any way to dispose of them besides dumping them somewhere which is illegal).  It was just a matter of days before I came home to find he had procured another old TV to put there.  Naturally he has every intention of putting that TV in his bedroom, except he can’t until he cleans off a place to put it… Yeah, I’ll be over here turning gray while I wait.  There is no room for the TV because he has clothes & everything piled everywhere because he can’t put anything in his drawers or his closets because (shocker) they are full of old junk.

All of this is to say that beyond just living in a podunk town in rural Alabama surrounded by racists & bible thumpers (who generally seem to be the same people, but these things describe 85% of the population so it’s a numbers game), I am really fucking miserable.  I try to stay positive & see this is my time to grow by sitting still, but there are times it just hits the fan & becomes overwhelming.  I have tried talking to him & he always says he’ll do better, but it never happens.  He’ll buy supplies to fix something up, then never get around to actually doing the work.  He prefers to spend his days running around doing things for his buddies & his evenings parked in front of the TV drinking beer.  When I get angry he tells me I’m just like my mother, & it’s all I can do to bite my tongue from yelling back, “I must be, because I’m ready to leave you too!”

He asked me once if I hated him, & then I was honestly able to answer “no.”  I have reached the point where if he asked me again I don’t think I could give the same answer, & still be truthful.  I hate him for being so trashy & because I blame him for me having to live here.  I could leave & have nearly done it a few times, but that means he can’t pay the bills.  He doesn’t qualify for any assistance because he owns four cars & a motorcycle, & refuses to sell any of them.

I have spent this week in bed, just watching Hulu & Fringe dvds & sleeping as much as possible.  I haven’t had an appetite, so haven’t been eating regularly, which means I’ve also been flaking on my med schedule because I need to take them with food.  This week I was supposed to start working up to 4mi runs, but I haven’t run at all because I just didn’t have it in me.  I considered forcing myself to eat & go running, but knowing he would be here when I got back sitting there watching TV & drinking beer made me decide to just stay in bed.  I am so miserable some days I would rather die than have to live here another minute.  I saw a large knife in the kitchen sink today & my first thought was of slicing my wrists open with it.

Other than that I have been feeling a little better today.  I got paid today since Monday is a holiday, so I was able to finally replace my broken phone.  I don’t know where or what I’m going to do, but I am going out this weekend.  Of course I’ll be alone, because I don’t have any friends here.  Alas, being educated, atheist, & single & childless by choice, I don’t have a lot in common with the “I love Jesus & I have a high school diploma, time to get married & have babies!” crowd.  And it’s the smart ones who even wait till they have a high school diploma, but who needs an education when you’ve got a husband?  Yes, I do look down on these people & not just because I live on a hill.  This is everything I spent my life trying to get away from & the idea that I’m spending these years stuck here is depressing, literally.  I should be living somewhere cool, having adventures, hanging out with other educated, intelligent people I can have a conversation with, meeting people, dating, & falling in love.  I’m supposed to be out living my life.  I should be living somewhere I can get adequate mental health care.  Fortunately his Social Security starts in January, so after that I can start saving my money to move as far away from here as possible, & as I told a friend of mine, “I’m not coming back until somebody’s dead.”

Okay, this was supposed to be something else, but devolved into a self-pity post.  But that’s whats going on with me this week.  It’s been a very shitty week, but I didn’t kill anyone, or harm myself in any way, so I guess we can call it a success.  I have a psych appointment Wednesday, so I guess we’ll have something to talk about.  It will likely involve how the increased dosage of my lamotrigine isn’t helping.


Author: despitemyself

A person in flux.

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