Fuck it. This is Where I'm at Right Now

I have been a little M.I.A. here lately. I have not written more than a Facebook status in a Middle East minute. So, because it has been a while, I am going to do something really stupid. I am going to take Brene Browns advice and be vulnerableish.

I wish I could say that I have been doing something really cool with my time, like training to be a stewardess on one of Elon Musk’s private space ships.

No space travel in my future unfortunately.

What I have been doing is crying a lot. Which is annoying and weirds me out because just a few years ago I rarely rarely cried and the truth is that I am super embarrassed because I like to pretend that I am indestructible, but since Brene is involved I’ll keep it real, raw, and kind of awkward.

So I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this - and if you have some pointer to make it stop, please feel very free to share – but lately I often cry for no reason.  Any little emotion can set it off which is really not fun for me because I am the horrible enneagram four and my emotions change rapidly.

With all the crying, I am struggling to do “normal” life. Not like things I have to do for work or my kids, they get done no problem. But, I am struggling to do the weirdest things. Like fold laundry - I would rather spend twenty-four hours with Tomi Lahren than – fold laundry. It takes for fucking ever and when I’m done there are little clothes stacks all over the place with feels very unsatisfying and then I have to to put them all over our house in their belonged homes, but by that part I have already used all my energy matching sox (just kidding, I just throw them all in a drawer)!

Okay, no one really likes folding laundry. But the lack of desire to do normal adult things gets worse.

Showering. For some reason I cannot fully explain, showering everyday seems like so much effort. I know, I’m a gross human being. But every time I am like, Hey I should take a shower, something inside of me says, No as soon as step out of the warm drops of ecstasy, you will suffer the consequences of being trapped in a Russian vodka room thing and you HATE being super cold. Seriously though, taking a shower lately feels like  it would take the amount of effort as it would take to talk Justin Bieber out of his dance moves at Coachella. Yeah, it’s that serious.

Basically, I am rolling with the, how long I can get away with a messy bun and sweats look (surpringly, working from home, it’s actually quite a few days).

So clearly, “self-care” is not really in the mix right now.

And yes I know, these could all be signs of clinical depression.

Except that I don’t feel like super sad (even though the crying) and I don’t feel hopeless which has been a constant in my days of on and off depression.

And yes I also am aware that, “People have random-ass different symptoms sometimes.”

Fair enough. Except I went to my lovely doctor who was like, “Okay, here are some more pills, a higher dose your ssri, and keep taking the pills that combat the side-effects of these pills (you know, lowered sex drive (which my awesome husband can work around if you know what I mean) and something else I can’t remember right now). Oh and take more Ativan, that should fix you for at least a little while.”

In the spirit of being uncomfortably transparent - I have been taking these sorts of brain-chemical-adjusters for a little while now because I have generalized anxiety, which means I almost always feel anxious AF for literally no known reason. It super sucks and sometimes pills can be helpful. I mean, Jesus probably isn’t going to miraculously take my anxiety away, I have asked him, many time and there has been no signs of a burst of light that takes could the anxious away.

Regardless, the least Jesus could do is give holy spirit a little push to persuade the powers at be (I have no clue if I am just being a thousand percent heretical here) to legalize medicinal marijuana in my state. I would be okay with that, I mean I am positive that the long-term consequences of pharma-drugs are probably scary and bad – so they can make you buy more pills to deal with that. Yeah, honestly I’d rather be able to cope naturally. So that’d be cool J, but for now – big evil pharma wins again.

So other than the crying, lack of self-care, and meds, another dominant trait of the past month has been being overwhelmed with how shitty our world is. IT. JUST. KEEPS. COMING. Here is some more real talk that I am not proud of, but the vastness of hurt and oppression in our world is making me want to shut down, like internally freeze. And that is not okay, not who I am and not who I ever want to be. But lately, it’s been a struggle.

And yes, as you can tell I am sitting here whining a bunch in a world that I am so fucking privileged in, that it’s not even funny. I am a white American chick whining about issues that are nothing on the grand scale of things. Here is an example that I am ashamed of, I am literally deeply sad that right now in my life, I don’t have anyone to talk about The Walking Dead with. That’s a true story, I complained to my husband about it just yesterday. It is very WTF.

So there you have it, I finally got some words on paper, granted more of a meaningless rant and to be honest I even want to tell that girl typing these words to shut the fuck up and get her shit together.

But whatever, this is real life and real life is not organized, and internally it’s never smooth and constant, it’s messy AF. Just like the world is a mess - we are often a mess on some varying level. Sometimes we are just going to feel like shit for a month and cry for no actual reason. Though we would like the world to think we are always totally cool, it’s actually okay to admit we may be a mess. Y’all even at our messiest, we are still stronger than hell and bad asses (who may cry some or all of the time). This is real life y’all. This is real life.