I’ve been sad and anxious lately, which isn’t like me. It’s possible that I have some PMS. But it seems more likely to involve the coronavirus. Or, rather, the situation. It’s worrisome whether our economy will be all right. And you know that government-provided stimulus check I was so excited to get? I don’t qualify, because I’m a dependent of my dad’s (due to my schizophrenia and other mental conditions). I understand the idea. I personally haven’t lost anything due to the coronavirus, such as employment income. But it’s sad because my dad, a self-employed lawyer, is Broke City. If I’d received the $1200, I was going to give most or all of it to him as debt repayment. Now he won’t get that. And he won’t receive an additional $500 for me (as his dependent) because I’m not under the age of seventeen. It’s not majorly upsetting, but it’s disappointing.
I don’t think that’s why I’m upset. I suspect that my puppy and my kitty are disrupting my sleep all night. I’m not sure how to prevent it. Mr. Kitty climbed onto my face at 6:45 this morning. It was irritating, but I didn’t react. Then, he started thumping my nose. Repeatedly. He meant business. And darned if that didn’t wake me up.
I understand why Mr. Kitty did it. He was looking out for Big Woof, who had to go potty. As big as Big Woof is, there seems to be no daily feeding schedule that enables her to hold it all night. In other words, she’s a giant 90-pound poop factory.
After I walked her, I couldn’t fall back to sleep for three hours. And just as I was about to fall back to sleep in bed, Big Woof curled up between my legs. Nice. Very comfy. But then, thinking it was a warm pillow (???), she hurled her entire 90-pound body onto my pelvic bone. (Thank God I’m female. But still.) And if you startle me right when I’m about to fall asleep, I shriek.
Well, my screaming made her leap off the bed. But I felt guilty, so I apologized to her and asked her to come back up, and she did. Then I fell asleep again for real.
It’s been a bone of contention (pun intended–in fact, Big Woof is chewing on a new rawhide bone right now) that Big Woof needs to poop in the morning. I know that’s the issue. Once I fell back to sleep, she didn’t bother me again until 1:30 in the afternoon, when I got up for the second and final time; and then she was ready to welcome me to the day with hugs and kisses all around.
I’ve tried feeding her at different times of day, I’ve tried feeding her less, I’ve tried everything. Oh well.
So I’m just tired. Very tired. I need good sleep. But I also suspect I’m anxious and depressed and moody and premenstrual and agitated, all because of the coronavirus and what it’s doing to our economy and citizenry. But in good news, I just used the word citizenry in a sentence, so there’s that.
I just feel worried. And anxiety is bad for me. It’s not something that I’m able to cope with. I’m used to paranoia, but anxiety isn’t something I can handle. It’s harder somehow. And when my equilibrium gets messed up by stuff like that, I can start acting irrational.
I haven’t been irrational today, though. I’ve been moody and tired and distant. I guess that’s all better than being irrational. (Just run.)
I also feel rejected and unlovable. My Words With Friends opponent got upset with me. She played SNOW, and I turned it into SNOWFALLS on the triple-word square. At the beginning of the very next game, she canceled the game. There was no way for me to do a rematch, so I made a sad face. At that point, she left the chat room and then freakin’ blocked me on FB. And no, I’m not leaving anything out of that tale of woe. That’s what happened. I assume she was… overly competitive? [Shrug.] That, or she freaked out because I’d changed my profile picture to this:
I’m trying not to laugh now. That selfie should win an award.
And then, I struck up a conversation with a FB friend. I told her I knew she’d been bored, so I sent her a link to my eBay sales and told her she qualified for the massive friend discount. But she ignored me. As in, she saw my comments but didn’t deign to reply. I finally asked her if she was okay. Her response? “AFK.” I had to look that up. Away From the Keyboard. Ah. Then she muttered something about making soup and disappeared. I was offended.
I haven’t told her I was offended for several reasons:
- Maybe I’m being “too sensitive.” [Eyeroll.]
- I don’t want to hurt her feelings. It’s hard for me to do that unless I’m really provoked or otherwise motivated.
- I internalized it and feared that she saw me as being an obnoxious nuisance, and that made me feel sad.
I’m not going to contact her at all. I’m going to wait and see if she contacts me. If not, I’m going to assume she doesn’t want to be friends. [Sad face.] Even when that’s not my fault, I blame myself and feel like a failure. Nothing’s more important to me than friendship.
And then, with another friend, I sent her photos of my brain, and she had some sort of freakout. I shouldn’t have shown her my brain.
Then Sonya showed up, and by that point I was a trainwreck, but not in any way that makes sense. I kept spouting weird gibberish to her. I could tell I was doing it, but I couldn’t rein it in. I started telling her how God spoke to me in 2007, and how I wanted to send her more socks, and how I needed people to stage an intervention and turn off my music. (I was listening to “The Working Hour” by Tears For Fears. It took me someplace primal. Spirits were falling.)
I couldn’t act normal by any stretch. I told Sonya that I was feeling rejected, and she said, “People can’t take cute weirdness.” [Nods.] I agree! They can’t handle my brain, either. Or my Words-With-Friends smarts. Or my inability to handle conversational death via AFK.
Both of the friends I haven’t named are mentally healthy. Very mentally healthy. As in, there’s no sign of mental illness in either one of them at all. It makes me sad that when I go through weird phases, my “normal” friends fall off the grid. I want people to accept me. It’s hard to keep up appearances of social niceties and normal behaviors.
How very Victorian! Yes, if you watch an onscreen version of Pride and Prejudice or anything else from that era, pay attention to what happens when a woman gives into sentiment and starts to cry or tear up. The nearest man will say, “Are you perhaps unwell? Please allow the maid to fetch a tisane. You can lie down for a bit,” or something. Because being emotional wasn’t allowed, so it was always cast as having sprung forth from physical illness (presumably a headache or hormonal distress or tiredness or consumption, etc.).
That gave the woman a cover. “Yes, I do feel unwell. I should rest. Thank you for summoning me a tisane. It’s most thoughtful.” And no, I have no idea what a tisane is. But they were always fetched.
Anyway, obviously it’s normal for humans to experience and express emotions. But with me, it can veer into weird territory. I need friends who are okay with that. The weirdness isn’t necessarily bad, I wouldn’t say. It’s just that my life has been so unique that I sometimes go to weird places. I’m okay with that, but I hate feeling like I’m inadequate for anyone.
That’s why I love Sonya. I suspect she was weirded out and had no idea how to respond, but she accepts me as I am. So I was able to flood her with all the weird thoughts that were crowding my overly emotional brain at the moment.
And that’s also why I love all my blog followers!! You guys never force me to be normal all the time. I appreciate that!! Personally, I don’t mind the state of flux my life always seems to be in. But anyone who’s looking for smooth sailing might not prefer to come along for the ride.