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Knocked Over By A Feather

IT WAS A BIG FUCKING FEATHER…

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Cover Songs: Tired of Waiting For You

My 20-year-old daughter sent me a video link on Facebook messenger the other day.

I clicked on it and gave it a listen.

“This is a cover song, dear. Green Day didn’t write it,” I replied back.

“Oh. They didn’t?”

“Nope. Google The Kinks.”

I thought it was hilarious, personally. There she was, trying to school me on her favorite band and instead, I’m schooling her on my favorite decade of music

It’s so much fun when generations clash and go boom, intermingling to create a comically fucked up moment in musical history.

But, being a fan of both bands, I’m finding myself in a pickle.

A pickle jam.

I can’t decide which version I prefer, the original by The Kinks or the cover by Green Day.

What do you guys think?



Tired of Waiting For You Cover by Green Day 2011

Original version by The Kinks 1965

I’m so tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you

I’m so tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you

I was a lonely soul
I had nobody till I met you
But you keep-a me waiting
All of the time
What can I do?

It’s your life
And you can do what you want
Do what you like
But please don’t keep-a me waiting
Please don’t keep-a me waiting

‘Cause I’m so tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you

So tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you

I was a lonely soul
I had nobody till I met you
But you keep-a me waiting
All of the time
What can I do?

It’s your life
And you can do what you want
Do what you like
But please don’t keep-a me waiting
Please don’t keep-a me waiting

‘Cause I’m so tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you

So tired
Tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you
For you
For you

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Depression is Insidious

I try really hard not to get stuck in a vacuum here on my blog by only writing about depression and fibromyalgia. Just like eating a ham sandwich every day for lunch, that shit gets old pretty quick.

I don’t mean to offend ham, I’m just saying, give turkey a chance. It’s not just for Thanksgiving anymore.

And if you’re not allergic, try a peanut butter and jelly sandwich once in a while. Yum.

But things don’t always work out the way that I want them to. I can’t seem to find any stable footing, any peace. If it’s not one illness fucking with me, it’s the other. Or it’s both. Plus, I have a slew of heavy life issues to deal with that makes me sad.

I read a great post yesterday about how people who are depressed often have the knee jerk reaction of saying that they are “fine” when someone asks them how they are. It really hit me then, that I’ve been doing the exact same thing with almost everybody that I interact with.

I don’t want people to worry about me.

I mean, I’m human. I’m an empath. Emotional.

It’s normal to be bummed when life continuously throws you turdballs, right?


poop


Depression is insidious, it can grow slowly over a long period of time and before you know it, you’re in the woods on an unseasonably chilly, rainy July day with a bottle of hydrocodone, trying to kill yourself.

I’ve been thinking about running away from home, dreaming of a new life where I have the chance to start all over again, hoping that I can be free of the chains that are rubbing my skin raw.

Maybe I’m not the only person who has that urge sometimes. I hope not, anyways.

So, yeah, I’m not doing great right now. But I’m holding on. I do all of the things that I’m supposed to be doing in order to combat that mother fucker that is depression.

I take my medications every morning, I have a great therapist, I disconnect when I need to (not as often as I should, though) in order to recharge myself. I’m taking more time to do things that make me feel momentarily joyful.

I’ve stopped trying so hard to save everybody at the expense of my own well being, repeating what my therapist taught me, “you can’t fix everything.”

It’s something that I whisper to myself at least 20 times a day, if not more.

The Short Version

In my post yesterday, I hinted about something that happened to me back in July.

Then I admitted the truth in my comments section and told another blog friend on her own site. I suppose you could say that I was ready to just come out with the truth instead of holding it in.

This is where I would normally add a fart joke or something for an easy laugh, but because this topic isn’t funny, I’ll refrain.

shh


Before I go on any further, I promise that I am mostly alright. The initial shock of it is now over with, so I can put the bandage on and off at my leisure.

I prefer when it’s on.

I don’t want to share details, so I’m going to write the short version.

My husband placed an ad looking for a hook up because I wasn’t frosting his flakes.

The woman he was pursuing somehow found out about me and left me a message on my KOBAF Facebook page.

I hope you forgive me, but I just can’t disclose any more of the lurid parts.

I’ve told some close friends, my immediate family is aware of it and just last weekend I finally told my therapist. So, I’m not dealing with this bullshit alone.

And as for my marriage, only time will tell, I suppose. I have no answers right now or any kind of annoying platitudes.

Those old chestnuts can take a flying leap off of Fuck You mountain.

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