I make my own snowballs, man.
Right inside my head.
That’s something I’m still working on and determined to get under control because it is exhausting. I am exhausted. Every single muscle hurts and the migraines are so bad these days if I don’t vomit upon waking I think something is wrong. (See? That was a snowball right there.)
I still have this issue with any tiny little something sends the mind rolling into every possible disaster scenario and all the reasons why I’m pissed about it. And what really pisses me off is that it’s almost never my own stuff. And the “stuff” owners never worry about it because they have me to worry for them.
I decided I needed to do something nice for myself and I could not think of a single solid thing I wanted to do. Nothing, people.
What the heck, man? How could I not be able to come up with one- ONE! - nice thing to do for myself. What in tarnation… who does that?
These days a good day is day with nothing and no one. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t want to talk to friends or family or even hear your dog bark. I don’t want to turn on the TV, the internet, watch a movie or read a book. I want everything and everybody to shut up, leave me alone and stop trying to infect me with your mental viruses.
I have never been the sort to spread my misery but I guess I’m in the minority because most people get all Nino Brown with it like, “If I’m going down I’m taking a whole lotta m—f—with me.”
I don’t want to hear what’s wrong in your life right now. Or what’s right in your life because somehow you’ll find a way to make that into something I don’t want anything to do with.
So if I could give one nice thing to myself it would be to find one spot where everything is quiet, and calm, smells good and I sit completely undisturbed. Then I think that’s impossible. Then I get mad because it’s impossible. Then I get mad for getting mad.
Anyway the point of this post is that I found it strange that I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do nice for myself. I feel like the things I think I want or that I think would make me happy aren’t things that I could ever have. Which turns into a thought about how some people don’t do squat and they managed to skate through life and why can’t I ever once just have something nice happen to me. And why are people so mean?
And why “men” can’t you get it into your head that you DO NOT have to mention any part of my body during a conversation ever? I think I might have to start nut-punching guys over that so they’ll get the hint. And why do I have to nearly traumatize someone just to get them to get a hint about being a good person? And why do I care? Why can’t I be the emotionally unavailable android my mother is and just look at everyone with a blank stare about everything, roll my eyes and then go on about my business? And why is my mother an android anyway?
I’m starting to wonder if I’m just completely incapable of taking care of myself. There’s nothing in particular that I want and I can’t think of anything that I really need and I’m grateful for all of that, but it’s really bugging me that I can stop everything and make magic for anyone else in the world, but I can’t do it for myself. I’m seriously angry about it.
I’ve always liked the lyrics to this song and there’s something cheerfully show tunes-y about the music but this video someone made just made the whole concept the neatest little creation ever.
Fiona Apple – Extraordinary Machine
I really need to do a Guy post on the Awesome Inspiration blog. That’s a huge chunk of my life in music.
Guy f/Heavy D – Do Me Right
Groove Theory – Never Enough