I think this is all bullshit.

I just wrote a check for rent from my dwindling checking account, still have not found a job, and for that matter, just don’t want to.  Thinking of getting something stupid like a waitressing job while i figure things out. I just know I can’t pay rent for September.

I have been thinking of moving to some artsy community, finding a cheap place to live, and working in a studio and selling art. I want to get off all my meds, even birth control.  I want to stop depending on my car so much.  I want to stop spending more than 75% of my (former)income on rent and utilities and food.  I want to simplify.  

I just dont want to be here.

 

I want to leave.

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This is my last week at this job.

I had a bit of a breakdown last Tuesday and Wednesday, but regained focus late on Thursday afternoon.

What a fantastic weekend!  Not to mention it was a holiday weekend, but it was great.  I wish weekends were 5 days a week, and the work week was only 2 days.  I would be able to handle that.

So I got my resume updated, and have sent it out to many places already.   So far, not one response.  It’s okay, I just started sending it out on Sunday, it is only Tuesday (trying to make myself feel better).

OH please let me get a job soon.  And not one that sucks.  Preferably with great benefits, at a higher salary/wage.  Ooo with paid vacations.  In a relaxed environment.  With cool people.

 

oh please….

random campus library

This one was perhaps induced by the medication I have been taking (Lexipro anyone?)

My boyfriend and I walked from the parking lot at my old community college (150 miles from where we live) into the main campus area. He went off to his class, and I decided, not being fond of math class, to skip my class, and hang out in the library until he was ready to go home.
It was pretty crowded and I stood watching students bustle here and there, off to their classes, huddled in social groups.
Then one person pointed up to the sky and yelled “that plane is too low!”
Everyone looked up to see a big passenger plane slowly jetting across the sky towards the main library building.
(might I add here that the plane looked really small for being so low, and the library building was about 5 times larger than life, making it look like it was at least 10 stories tall)
The plane was headed directly for the building. At the last second, it pulled up as far as it could, and just cleared a ledge, but then crashed into a raised portion of the roof.

Everyone was screaming and gasping, I put my hand up to my mouth and watched. Then I tried to call 911 on my cell phone, which for some reason was difficult. I ended up connecting to some guy named Richard (who tried to hit on me), and tried to hang up on him, which took a few tries. I never did get through, but by then, sirens were wailing and firemen came.
It was dark and everyone was still in the main area watching and crying as they pulled dead bodies out. They did pull a child out, who was living, and someone in the crowd just hugged her.

I hugged a couple of people. One woman had a teal terrycloth tracksuit on and was middle age. After I hugged her I said I can’t believe that just happened. She said “thank you” as if I had just made that comment about our hug. I started to correct her to say I had meant that about the plane crash, but she walked away.

Strange huh. I think I need help.

Oh that’s right. I am getting help.

What does this all mean?

he believes in me…

June 6, 2008

I finally met with a psycologist.

 

THANK YOU!

whew.  I did a ton of crying, and we didnt get too far, it being a initial meeting to see where I stand, and what the standard procedures are.

It sure went fast too.  Crap. Just like those massages, you blink and its over with.

But one thing that stood out, when talking about my family, friends, relationships, and where I am at the moment, was the fact that my boyfriend believes in me.  She said it, when I was trying to describe why he was trying to motivate me and encourage me, she said “he believes in you”

ding!

holy shit.

He does, doesnt he?

 

wow.

I am thankful for him.

 

I also look forward to the next appointment- friday late afternoon.

 

is this normal?

June 2, 2008

Let me ask you a question.

During the day, when stress hits you upside the head, and thoughts start going in circles and life seems bleak, do you imagine yourself doing violent things?

Do you picture yourself stabbing the computer screen with your fork or repeatedly smashing your head on a wall hook until it pops open like a coconut filled with strawberry jam?

 

When I was a kid, and forced to sit in school, where I was bored and unhappy, I realized something: no matter what people force you to do, where you are forced to be during the day, what you have to get done, you always have the privacy of your own thoughts, and can nod and sweetly smile while thinking “fuck you”

Was I a morbid kid?  Maybe just not understood.

It used to be focused against teachers and parents and authoritative types. Imagining myself yelling at them, flipping them off, shoving them out of the way as I leave the room, dancing the can-can on the desks and kicking them, mostly just talking back and screaming.  I did a lot of mental screaming as a kid.

It carries over to today still, imagining hurling myself over balconies at museums, imagining the car accelerating into a telephone pole or off the edge of the road, imagining stabbing myself with scissors, or knives, imagining myself screaming.  Occasionally I’ll have to take a shower where I’ll open my mouth and silently scream as the water runs and I sob for a while.

 

Where is this sadness coming from?

My doctor says that everyone occasionally thinks the world would be better without them. 

So is this normal.

Am I ok?

 

It feels like I should have a specific reason- like being raped/molested as a kid, or seeing a parent die as a kid.

But as far as my memory serves me, I have not been through any such event.

(and it makes me more sad that I am sad for no reason)

Stuff like this makes me proud to be a californian for the first time in my adult life.

un-zen

May 14, 2008

I took another yoga class last night, another spine opening relaxing, restorative class.

Much like last week, last night’s class was inner-peace inducing glory.

I did not, however, have such a strong vision.  Why, you ask?  Was I unable to calm the chatter in my head?  Was I thinking about what I would blog about today as I avoid any action that would minutely be classified as work?

Nope.  

I did learn one thing though, and that is to not position myself so close to the bathroom door.  When someone in your class has un-zen digestion issues and repeatedly gets up during class and walks to the restroom door (talking 4 or 5 times in the hour) and walks back to their mat in a wake of distracting (foul) aromas, it is the hardest thing to concentrate on your breath – not what your breath is breathing, but the breath itself.

I realize meditation takes practice, and distractions will come at you like flies to poop, but this one threw me for a loop.  

Luckily it didn’t linger too long, and wafted to the other side of the room, yogis passing out in it’s trail.
The only thing to keep me from spiritual bliss and the world of distractions was myself…

…and the guy behind me with itchy feet.  shwoo shwoo shwoo

what the-?

shwoo shwoo shwoo

scratch scratch scratch

The light that had begun to trickle down the top of my head suddenly gave way to imagining Itchy Foot Guy scratching his hairy feet, rubbing them on the carpet, scratching them again, rubbing them against each other.

**shudder**

 

Great article by Seth Graham-Smith today.

Brings me back to center a bit:

I believe in Barack. Maybe you don’t.

But I don’t hate you for it.

Yes, Hillary would be better for this country than John McCain.  That, I am pretty sure of.  

But I think Obama would be better for this country than anyone else.  I believe in him. 

 

Maybe it’s because his speeches are filled with visions of grandeur for this country.  Maybe its because he has that great compasion in his voice that fills you with the weird idea that this country isn’t completely filled with money-grubbing, self supporting, easily perswayed by  money elitists.

Maybe because he makes me listen.  He makes me want to know what is happening in the country.  He makes me want to vote, and want to stand up for myself and my beliefs.  It makes me feel more united with people in states I have  never visited.  It makes me feel like part of a movement.  Like an active citizen.  Like an American, in the truest definition of the word.

I can now say I agree with Michelle Obama.

For the first time in my life, I am proud to be an American.

 

 

welcome

April 8, 2008

Hello,

I’m your host here at escape the drain, a blog about my current situation in life, trying out freelance creative work, working for a mother of 2 (with another one on the way), living with a man who puts up with my absent mindedness, and dealing with a semi-mental breakdown for which I am considering getting proffessional help for.

 

All that said, understandibly, I think I  will keep my identity as well as those around me safe from exposure.

 

Feel free to add to my posts via comments and suggestions, I am open to discussion.

Thank you!

-etd