Friday, June 1, 2012
I sleep 12 hours.
Here ya go. Have my morning thoughts. I should be dead. Why do really good people die young and here I am contributing nothing to society. Nothing to anyone. I am just here like a rock. In the way. No sparkles. My stomach hurts. M&M's peanut butter. Susan is too busy for me now. I get that except that she does call me when she needs something. I don't know why Hunter doesn't kick me out of here. Why should he have to walk around me. I am nothing. I am too tired to shower. I am scared that Hunter's going to say we need to get groceries today. I am planning to tell him I will do his nails for him if he goes to get the groceries. I am ready for it to be night time so I can go back to bed. I haven't polished my nails since February yet a perfectly beautiful turquoise polish sits there awaiting me. So pretty. I will feel better the more awake I become. Or not. I hate to have to think of what to have for dinner. Dinner is stupid and I am all the worse for even thinking that when so many others would kill to have the food I have at home here. I do not even think of being grateful and that is bad too. Wake up with these thoughts and see if you don't strive to sleep a bit longer to avoid having to be a wake. And every night there are dreams. They wear me out. They more often about being cheated on than not. Take a true incident from over 30 years ago and bring it up again 25 years later to dream about every other night. This is kind of like Blunk Drogging without the fun. Sucks. I am not at a loss for things to do. I just don't want to. I want to sit alone in the kitchen and smoke and watch marathons of House or Criminal minds. I don't want to talk to people. Don't call me. Hunter just came out to tell me he got another call from Lutheran General Hospital regarding our bill. He gets repeated calls on his cell phone about money we owe. We have never been there. NEVER. He was mad. He had talked to them repeatedly. They don't listen. He called the caller lots of bad names. They don't believe him when he says we don't even know someone named Nevin. Is that even a real name? I hear water. Is someone hosing something off? 54 degrees. So? How long until I feel better or normal. Who am I kidding. Do I ever feel normal? What is normal? Maybe if I didn't break my voice, I would at least have something awesome to use and look forward to. I used to sing at weddings and duets at church and solos. My voice hit a brick wall and ever since then.....I could at least play my piano but I am not really gifted in that manner. My Hunter encourages me to play. I should/could box stuff for my garage sale. Could clean. What good would that do. It would still look like crap without walls and floor. And old, old furniture. Yes, at least I do have a roof over my head. These are just my morning thoughts. Give me a break. I am very caring and loving. This is not a valued commodity in our world anymore. If I had to get up dressed and go to work it would kill me. How I ever did what I did during my life, I certainly don't know. Are my memories even real? Could all that have been possible? And does it matter? You know how you think of someone else out of the blue. How you discuss them with others,...not in a gossipy way. I always think that no one ever thinks about me. And why would they? Why did my older sister just drop me the way she did when dad died? Should I call her and beg for her fake love for me? Is fake love better than none? I want a couple dogs and a fenced yard. They give love. Sure it is only because you feed them unless Hunter is present. They give him love regardless. I do not know how to be a mother to an adult daughter. Is it because my mom died when I was 17? How is it that dad felt bad that he never bought Bev a horse. When did that happen? I was the one who loved horses! I had knickknacks of horses. I gave my mom horse pins for mother's day and such. I met up with my best friend of my child hood who ended up being in a "cult" and I hadn't seen her in a very long time. She was my maid of honor. Yet all she talked about was stuff about her friendship with Bev. Did I change those memories to suit me? And how does Bev remember things that occurred when she was 9 months old? I would have been 3 at the time. And I don't remember hiding in the furnace room when the Mafia came? What? Really? I always turn the wrong way when I am coming home from a place I've only been to once or twice. And why don't I go the opposite way since I know this about me? Lots of questions huh? Then there's the handful (8) of pills I take every morning. 3 for blood pressure. 1 for thyroid. 3 for crazy and 1 for II Diabetes. Do I really need all those pills? It's not like I have a real disease like Huntington's or cancer or transplants. I am sure there are many, many others that are serious. I could call the pharmacist and ask how to wean myself off all these. They know more about drugs than doctors. I should have had my hysterectomy when I was 25 instead of suffering all those years. I wonder what it would have been like had I had the 4 boys and then a girl like I wanted to. I never had a brother so I wanted to have a girl last to be loved and protected by all these brothers. My parents almost named me Heidi. Well one wanted to and the other didn't. I wanted to be born and live in times like on Little House on the Prairie or Pleasantville or Andy of Mayberry. Safe. Friendly. Yes, I have tried to make myself be happy and productive. It rarely works. I should have started this whole blog thing posting all these happy things that weren't real but to talk my life into being so cool. Perfect. I hate that I am so sensitive that I cry over things sad and sweet. I never was a cryer you know. As I got older though.....why is that? What is I WAS somebody? Who would I be? I never set goals. I make notes upon notes and then when I clear off the table, I throw them out, most things left undone. Then I start again with the notes. Damn. I thought that when I went through "The Change" I would go from a cocoon to a beautiful butterfly. I remember being a cute fuzzy caterpillar. But I seem to be sinking deeper into the cocoon phase. I haven't changed for the better at all. This isn''t me just having a bad morning. This is me most mornings. The Xanax is kicking in now. When I give up all my pills, I will retain the Xanax. It will help me through the strokes and cut off legs and psych. ward stays. Yeah. I think I will do that. Thanks for sharing my morning with me. You know I would have gotten you a cup of coffee had you been here in person. Actually, I would have told you where the cups were and let you get it yourself. I am
lazy nice that way. What's his is his and what's mine is his and never the twain shall meet. Why won't this fucker publish!!!!??? Stupid ass blogger. It's more real than I am.