Anger

I spit anger every time I open my mouth. I hate that I can't talk about anything without feeling like I'm spitting bottles of liquid fire. Tonight at dinner we were talking about church. A safe topic, a source of hope and peace typically. But we were talking about the lacking skill of our student pastor's ability to "care for his flock" so to speak. I bitched about the fact that not once, not once has he asked or said "I hope you are ok. Let me know if there is anything I can do." Not once. And I feel slighted, pissed.

Yes, yes I know. I have definitely given off a "don't ask. don't tell." vibe. I get it. I do. so then why am I so angry. Why can I turn so angry all of a sudden. It's like this tsunami of demons approaching me. I see it. I hear it. I feel it. And yet I'm helpless to stop. I do the self-talk, "it's not real" "you are ok" "it's ok" "this is normal" "this too shall pass" "just one foot in front of the other". All of it and it does nothing. The demons laugh and devour the words as fast as I can spill them out.

I'm exhausted. I feel like this freak in the corner that hasn't washed her hair in 3 months. My face covered in dirt from neglect. People try so hard to understand and I so love them for that. But I feel like a freak every time I open my mouth. All I'm going to do is be angry and I'm so tired of being angry. All I'm going to do is be self-involved and I'm so tired of being focused on me. truly, so tired of it.

so I write. hoping to find a way.

this all began again spending yesterday evening with the social worker and my ex. Having to talk about us, what happened, hearing about him moving on so easily. Part of me is happy and ok with it. But part of me isn't. Why does he even tell me? He is visiting her for Easter. It was my weekend any way and Easter isn't a holiday for him. It's good. I'm going home to LA the following week. It's fair. He bought her Corinthian bells for her birthday. It's sweet. It's nice. It's thoughtful. And the money that was meant for our mutual tax debt is slowly being eaten away by these purchases. Meanwhile, we could have put more to the tax debt and maybe just maybe I could have gotten some form of a return this year. Something that would benefit me. But not likely.

hearing the last 4 months summarized in 15 minutes was hard. I feel the guilt again and then I wonder why. There was a time when I should have felt guilty. Guilty for what I'm not sure. Guilty for hurting someone who loved me. Guilty for ending a marriage that should have been a friendship. But my sense of how much I was hurting him was off. So now I feel shame that I feel guilty and that I'm still wrapped up in the emotions of this and he isn't. Just fuck.

so all of this rolls around my head. then I'm around other humans and I have nothing but fear and guilt and anger rolled into a ball. this is so hard to get out off. none of my coping mechanisms are working. i'm actually growing tired of peanuts and pepsi. i'm tired of being upset. i'm tired of feeling so much over something that doesn't deserve it.

sigh. so my anger melts into self-loathing and I turn it inward. further proof of me being a failure. this all being my fault. sigh. but it's not. it's not proof. it's not anything but anger over a situation that I never expected. fuck.

Pursuit of Drugs

I sleep a lot. I'm tired. My meds aren't working as well as they should be. And I'm taking them every day. I need a new one though. I'm not through the woods where my coping skills can take over. I still need the boost of the drug. God how weird it is to need a drug. But it's ok. It's not the first time and won't be the last. It is the first time though that I'm not settling.

See before I would get to this point. I'm dull, numb. The world is hazy and beige. I'm not wanting to jump off a cliff. But I'm not wanting to move. I just sit. Sleep. Sit. Sleep. Work. Sit. Sleep. Yup. That's it. I really don't even eat. I eat peanuts and pepsi and that's it. Thank God my mom cooks dinner for me 2-3 times a week or else I might turn into an elephant. But I think I'll move when I feel the need. I don't feel the need right now. I'll just sit.

Just sitting is not normal. Sitting and healing is normal, healthy. I'm not healing. Or if I am it's through osmosis. I guess I could pretend. But I don't. I went to dinner with two friends last week.

They both know me fairly well. Both are aware of my internal nature. One of them reads me so well we could have a conversation with looks. It's hysterical. I enjoyed our time together. But I was sitting. I engaged but not as fully. I struggled for conversation. I can talk about other things but it's hard. I come to kind of expect that to be the norm.

But it shouldn't be. Thus the need for a new drug. Because the drug doesn't fix the problem but it helps you be able to look at the problem. The side effects are a pain and one of the main side effects of Zoloft is lack of motivation. Isn't that just ironic? And I'm tired of it. I've been on it for a few months now. It's time for a new one.

BTW - even if I sit in silence I still enjoy your company.