November 9, 2007

A dramatic form that does not observe the laws of cause and effect and that exaggerates emotion...



I admit that I am ridiculous. Okay? I admit it.

Take this past week, for example. It was a bad week from the first few seconds I opened my eyes Monday morning, and it didn’t let up the whole time. I was filled with overwhelming anxiety and doubt. This is pretty much the stuff I was anxious and doubtful about:

1. I will never, ever get a job.

2. I will never, ever have health insurance again.

3. Because I will never, ever get a job and never, ever have health insurance again I will lose what is left of my mind and end up wandering the streets, wild-eyed and ranting, and giving blowjobs for crack, turkey sandwiches, and cups of coffee.

4. I am crazy.

5. I am a fundamentally unlovable person.

6. Because I am a crazy and fundamentally unlovable person I will die alone, and should I somehow manage to bypass #1 and #2 and get a job and health insurance, I will die alone in a scary house on a hill with a bunch of pets as opposed to alone in the street.

You get the idea.

I called friends. I drank much alcohol and called friends. I took long, meandering walks. I called friends after drinking much alcohol and while taking long, meandering walks.

I used a lot of analogies for myself: a piece of driftwood on the ocean! A sinking bag of stones! A horse with no name! (Okay, I didn’t use that last one.)

I bemoaned that I had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and that if I disappeared tomorrow no one would notice for days.

I laid on the floor of my shower and let the water run over me. I laid in the backyard staring upward. I laid with my head under pillows in my bed.

I posted blogs only to take them down again because they were too intensely dark and personal.

I cried. About everything. Yesterday I cried when some school kids made fun of a ranting homeless man (that will be me one day, after all) and I cried when a different group of school kids made fun of one of the little girls in their group and wouldn’t talk to her or sit with her on the bus.

Fuck school kids.

Fuck my amplified emotions.

Fuck me.

I am pleased to announce what seems to be a break in the aforementioned ridiculousness. I hope this break lasts a long fucking time.

I’m surprised my wonderful friends still answer their phones.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

YOU ARE A GOOD PERSON.
You will get job & health insurance, won't died along.
If you do go crazy & end up in a looney bind, I'll
most likely be your room mate :=)

Yan Lu

Anonymous said...

awww. i love you, girl. i'm so happy when my phone rings and its you.

-j

Becky said...

been there girl except for me, if I dont find a job and stay thin, attractive, and desirable and PROVE myself, my hubby will leave me, I will have no place to go, my children will be taken away and sent to abusive foster homes and I won't be able to find a shopping cart to haul what little of my stuff I will have left around.
But then something happens and my anxiety is swept into the closet for awhile.
you know if you ever need to talk I am here with big ears :)

Toad's Lair said...

Nice touch about the shopping cart, Becky! I'll add that to my list...

Becky said...

Hey you know that really worries me, if I can't find a cart then I can't take my stuff with me. It can always double as a home if there is no box or bridge available either. Have you seen the shelters here in Fairmont? There is no way I am staying at one of them! Not that I am dissing them or anything, they just aren't suitable for a woman...alone.
:)

Anonymous said...

You'll probably still give bjs for crack, sandwiches, and coffee but not because you're homeless.