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Knocked Over By A Feather

IT WAS A BIG FUCKING FEATHER…

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depression

Mer the Hermit

My husband and I share a car, a 2004 Chevy Impala. We purchased it back in May with the money that I had saved up since quitting smoking back in January.

We had thought at the time that it was in impeccable shape for the $900.00 that we paid for it. It started right up and felt “safe” to drive. It didn’t make any weird sounds or anything. All good signs. We’ve had nothing but shitty luck with automobiles for years now, so cool beans.

Well, we just had to cough up about $650 to get a few important things fixed on the Impala, like the brake lines (done by a real mechanic) and the entire back brakes, with pads, rotors and calipers, done by my husband’s friend who also happens to be my weed guy.

My daughter was gone from 11am until almost 2am this morning. Her “so you don’t drive your mother insane” curfew is 1am, but I gave her an extra extension because she was going down to Akron with her new friendboy. (Not official yet, more on this topic later.)

So yeah, I was alone all day yesterday, which shouldn’t have really bothered me so much, only it really did. I spent much of my time fighting back a panic attack, because the same thought kept running through my head.

“You’re all alone, trapped inside these four walls. Trapped! Hermit Lady! You suck.”

I dug deep into my bag of DBT tricks, classics like distraction, opposite action, being mindful…and one that I made up myself…telling my brain to go fuck itself.

Kindly go fuck yourself, stupid hypervigilant brain.

My gigantic 75 pound American Bulldog named Maya helps me feel less alone. She’s the best nap partner, which we take most days, even if just for a short horizontal life pause.


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Snuggle in, it’s nap time!


I’ve had many dogs in my life over the years, but she’s special.

Yeah, I know, everybody says that about their pets, like, I have the most special hamster, he does the Chicken Dance for a piece of corn.

Seriously, she loves to cuddle. She’s into the spooning thing and what kind of dog lover would I be to disappoint her?

Bring it in, girl.

We watched Family Guy Season 13 on Netflix. She cuddled on the couch with me.


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Mommy loves you, Maya.


What? It’s cute.

So the brake job yesterday took my husband and his buddy almost 12 hours in total. He only charged us $50, otherwise there was no way that we would have put more than what we had paid for it um… back into it?

It reads funny to me, but I’m just going to leave it alone.

I suppose we would have had to start using Uber. I don’t know, I’m fucking old. Bring me a prune, get off my lawn. 

Whatever.

You’d be surprised how often I have a streak of a week (or more) of not leaving my house. On Saturday mornings I see my therapist. I force myself to go even if I feel like cancelling, but she’s been taking frequent vacations lately. So, I missed her again yesterday, now two weeks in a row, which sucked.

It’s really so much more than just a therapist appointment, it’s like a snippet of freedom once a week. And if I’m feeling froggy, I’ll even stop at the big store or the little store, dependent upon many variables that I am too lazy to list.

My only IRL friend that I have left is Cheryl, but she also has fibro, so lately our weekly lunch/movie outing has been becoming more sporadic.

I might be having a great day, but then she might feel like chipped shit on toast. Or then, she’s feeling decent-ish and I want to go bury my head in my pillow all day long. Or usually, we both feel just bloody awful on the same day, because fibro is of the devil.

Yep. You’re not seeing things. I have one friend that I can actually hang out with. They’ve either all moved away or stopped asking me to do stuff. People forget about you sometimes and that sucks, but it’s just the circle of life.


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Me either, Pooh.


I had my own car for an extremely short time back in 2014 and I rarely drove it. If I was careful with finances for a few months, I could buy my own piece of shit car, but would the cost, upkeep and insurance be worth it if I barely drove the damn thing?

Now that I can drive our car and stop its momentum, I had planned on getting out of here for a bit today, but guess what?

I don’t feel up to it, plus there’s a cold front coming in again.

Well, shit.

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the chaos I’d leave behind

ok


I haven’t written a thing about my health for at least two weeks now because I felt like it’s all been done before, so why bother?

But after reading Kim’s post yesterday, it stirred up all of my emotions, the ones that I have been trying so hard lately to repress. I like life better when I’m not constantly thinking or overanalyzing everything. I’m safer when I keep my distance from people who aren’t within my inner sanctum.

I put my walls back up when I get hurt really badly by someone and that happened to me…again!


ragdoll


When the fuck will I ever learn not to trust anyone? Haven’t I been treated like an afterthought enough times that I should know better by now?

My mental health is precarious. The worse that the fibro gets, the more I worry that I’ll have another complete meltdown.

I’ve been spending about 60% of my awake hours stoned and if I had enough weed, I’d make that 100%. But alas, I can only get so much of it at any given time.

My bones fucking ache like a throbbing, infected tooth. Trigger points throughout my entire body are sore to the slightest touch and is spreading insidiously upwards. Muscle spasms are constant. I’m weaker than I have ever been and I’m starting to lose muscle tone in my legs.

Each time I think that I have “accepted” this lifelong sentence, with my body stepping in to take the place of a jail cell, I go back to the anger and depression stages of the grieving process.

I’m imprisoned inside this painful body until the good Lord decides that it’s time for me to leave. But then again, if memory serves me correctly, my brain gets off on telling me to kill myself.

And as my physical health continues to deteriorate, I’m scared that I’ll end up deciding that maybe I would be better off.

I’d be finally done suffering, but the chaos I’d leave behind…well, that’s the thought that saves me for now.

Yeah, That’s How I Rolled.

Time to pull out some real ass shit. On my blog site, I Tripped Over a Stone, I need to keep it under “parental control” but on KOBAF I can pull out all the stops. I hope you’re ready because I need to spill my guts.

Today is my 13th wedding anniversary. Thirteen years … only nine of them good. KIDDING! They have all had their challenges but I am incredibly lucky to have landed this dude because my past was anything and everything this current guy never would have put up with.

Sexually assaulted? Check.

Physically assaulted? Check.

Domestic violence? Check.

Held hostage? Check.

Death threats? Check.

Sexually promiscuous? Check.

Alcoholic? Check.

Speed Freak? Check.

Workaholic? Check.

Some of you know I turned 50 last month. I swear to the Almighty I never thought I’d see 40 so to hit 50 was almost like a cruel joke. My point in ‘expressing’ myself with the above laundry list of ill-deeds is that no one knows anyone else’s story. No one knows who has been through what or why they currently do what they do… I could explain away all those things I listed! I could ‘reason’ with you for each event and link it to a proceeding event… but there comes a time when you must look at each chapter of your life and put it to bed. (Er, away, bad choice of words!)

You must come to peace with your past. 

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I am not very religious, I mean I believe in God and Jesus. I know that I am saved. I know that I am a Christian, but I sure do need to practice it a bit more! I am having a hard time letting myself off the hook. My husband knows of the evils in my past and that I am having trouble getting past it. He told me to just give it to the cross. What? I had to ask for an explanation. He said to give it to God and let it go. But you see, the problem is, I want to explain first… ‘give it to God’, I doubt he wants it!

The most valuable lesson I learned in my seven, (yes 7!) years of therapy was, “You did the best you could with what you had at the time.” The revelation for me this last week was the part of the phrase ‘had at the time’ I know now this means the ‘knowledge you possessed’ at the time. It wasn’t that I was stupid, naive, immature, I just didn’t know how to cope with the trauma that happened at that time. I was wildly successful in my career, but my personal life was out of control.

What only time can teach us … is who we are as a person. They say first you hear a whisper, then a knock, then something big happens! In my case, I heard whispers and knocks but never paid much attention. No, it took a big event, a car accident, to come to terms with who I was a person, not who I was as defined by my career. This is the toughest job I’ve ever had, to learn to go from hating myself to caring for this person I hated. THE DAMN HARDEST JOB IN THE WORLD.

I’m starting to like me, just a little bit, but those listed items continue to haunt me. I have no idea why my husband loves me … but I love him completely. I will do what it takes to chisel away the hatred I have for me. If he loves me I should be able to do so as well.

Whew, I feel better! How about you?

FullSizeRender 56~Kim

visit me at: http://www.itrippedoverastone.com

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