My Nervous Breakdown and Other Insane Things

It’s Monday, and you’ve probably noticed there was no podcaturday on Saturday. Anyone who checks out my site on a regular basis probably noticed there haven’t been a lot of other things going on here lately either. No Tesla Tuesdays, no commitment reports, no squeenage wisdom, no me pushing the world to buy buy buy my fiction so I can live live live off the profits. Jack in the Green was supposed to start up last month and that didn’t happen either. Acadia will probably laugh maniacally when he reads this because he always says i try to do too much. Now I don’t do anything… or so it feels.

I want to say I’m sorry, but like Pee Wee Herman in Cheech in Chong’s Nice Dreams, I’m not sorry I took the money, nyah! I’m not sorry about a lot of things lately, and that sort of scares me. My attitude has gone to pot, and I’m not sure if there is anything that can pull me up out of this dark place right now.

My only shred of happiness is my family, and all the stress surrounding applying for our K1 visa and knowing I am coming up on spending almost a month apart from james is making me feel so drained. The expense in a time when I have no idea if I will even get my job back is more than I can take sometimes. I just want to get married, have my job back, have one place where we live instead of two, write fiction again… feel sane.

And the truth is, I do not feel the least bit sane right now. I feel like all the marbles fell out when I tipped my head to the side and then they got accidentally flushed down the toilet.

The worst part is, I’m on an anti-anxiety med because of all this stress from the last 18 months of my life. Over the weekend, I ran out and have been taking a mirror molecule drug that makes me feel like crap. I went to pick up a handful of my prescription today (because god only knows when I’ll get my last paycheck,) and the stupid pharmacy was out of my stupid drug. Come back tomorrow, she said. Then James asked how much it was going to cost for 5 pills, cos that’s what I’m getting to tie me over, and she said, “$27.95.” Dude, that’s like more than $5 a pill. I could puke.

I want to be happy and smiley and smartass and all that good stuff that makes me me, but it’s not working right now. I keep breaking down and in the beginning I always felt better after a good cry. Now whenever I lose it, I just feel less able to get up and brush myself off again.

I did watch True Blood and that made me happy for 49 minutes, so there’s always that. I’ll be back with a mid-week true blood rambling later in the week.

For now, thanks for reading this through, if you managed to get to the end without wanting to punch me for being such a whiny baby. If you do want to punch me, maybe that would help me stop feeling sorry for myself and get back to my regularly scheduled life.