If you’re the prayin’ type…

3-27-14     10:30pm

I feel like I should be typing on a typewriter. The sound of the keystrokes is more fulfilling.

It’s 10:30pm, still an hour and a half in the day. I hope it is dull. I woke up in a terrible funk. A curl-up-on-the-couch-and-stare-afraid-to-move-no-thoughts-unable-to-do-anything funk. I managed to scribble a few words on the page. After a few hours I ate, turned some music on. I dragged myself out the door, despite the paranoia telling me I couldn’t go, that they were watching me and they’d find out. I didn’t want to go to choir. I needed someone to help me. But my mom was asleep and I couldn’t ask. I thought of calling my therapist or my doctor but my words were slipping away and I couldn’t explain it, didn’t know what to ask for or from whom. So I went to Staples. I figured binder shopping on rewards couldn’t hurt. I was able to drive safely. I was astonished. I figured I’d swing by Starbucks for a banana and a cup of hot water to warm my throat so I wouldn’t crack while singing my solo in choir.

This should be a simple thing – getting a cup of hot water from Starbucks. I had finally made it to a semi-stable place and calmed myself into being able to wait 15 fucking minutes in line, pushing me late for choir. When I got to the register the woman told me they no longer serve hot water there. What? She claimed that one of the partners got burned and it was a liability and that some people bring their own stuff to put in the water. ??? I just stared at her. I asked if I could order something else on the menu minus everything but the water. She said sure. She asked what I’d like. I asked what on the menu has water in it. She said if she did it for me she’d have to do it for everyone and glared at me. My emotion was at a 10. It took EVERYTHING in me just to stand there and not move, not make a sound. I put the banana down, put my hand up and said, “I can’t do this,” and walked away. I was to the car by the time I realized I could have ordered tea with the tea on the side. Not that I drink tea. I would have paid $10 for a damn cup of fucking water. What she said made no sense. And was rude. And was just beyond what I could tolerate.

I sat in the car not moving, barely breathing for several minutes. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t talk. Needed to die RIGHT THEN. I kept seeing myself stabbing me in the stomach with the ice pick my mom used to own but now doesn’t remember. The urge was SO intense. I didn’t move. Cuz seriously, I don’t need to be driving like that. I was pissed when I remembered I’d agreed to live 6 months for the DBT program. Fuck. When is that up? Eventually I started driving. I had the urge to admit myself to Grossmont as I passed by. Air 1 helped. I couldn’t figure out how to get to the college from the mall. The freeways were all twisted and I kept missing the off-ramp, driving in circles. I was so mad. I wanted to quit altogether but I thought choir might help me feel better. I made it to the school, paid for parking, got a big hug from Derek. Much needed. Sat next to Karen. I told her I was a 1/7.5 on the mood chart. She got it, invited me to a movie this afternoon. Singing was much needed. Bumped me up to a 4 for about an hour, then I crashed to a staring 2 for awhile. The movie brought me back up. Honestly, the best film I’ve seen in quite some time. I needed the feel of home. It’s Kind of a Funny Story. After the movie we went to dinner. Then I skipped choir, hit Walmart, and crashed again on the way home.

I’ve been crashing a lot. I’m concerned. My doctor says I need to cut back on what I’m doing but I don’t know how. I know if I don’t I’ll only get worse. I don’t know how. I wake up in the morning when my alarm turns off, not when it comes on. I need express instructions. I am tired during the day and my back is spasming and locking up on me. My head pain has returned and my blood pressure has dropped markedly. I can’t concentrate. I don’t write. I can’t think. When I come home at night I shovel M&Ms into my mouth (literally a giant bag every night) and fall asleep on the couch on or around 9pm. My mom wakes me up and I go to bed. There are all these positive opportunities for me right now. I even just had a great weekend at Possum Trot, which was awesome. I don’t know what is happening.

So tonight while I was curled up on the couch falling asleep next to my almost empty bag of M&Ms I heard my mom shouting into the phone. It seems my sister-in-law died unexpectedly this morning in my brother’s arms. What? Right. I know. Where the Hell did that come from? I got up and came in the kitchen to read the post-it note she was scribbling on. I would have known this sooner if I’d checked Facebook today but I didn’t. Lovely. My mom told him he shouldn’t be angry at God. Actually, IT’S OK. Not that she’s dead but that he’s angry. I don’t understand. And I don’t have to. I just have to go. After an errand in the morning, my mom and I will go up there. Crisis is a good distraction but why death? He was finally happy. I don’t understand.

I’m tired. I am tired. I will go tomorrow and do whatever is needed. Greg is family. MY family. I pray this brings the family closer instead of pulling them apart. I hope my brother can hold on. I love him dearly. I also hope my staring, body-crashing episodes are paused for the duration of this crisis. They are not needed. I should tell my people. I should also sleep. It will be a long day.

Thanks for reading, listening. I know I haven’t been posting. I write things that just never make it here. It’s been a bumpy ride. Please keep my family in your prayers if you’re the prayin’ type. Thanks.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2014

Looking Good:

6-7-11         6:10pm

I look good today. My favorite pink shirt that makes me look skinny, the black capris I like.

I’m sitting in a CBT lecture about the purpose of feelings. I’m glad that I’m here but I can’t follow the lecture. It’s not organized enough for me. I just came from Office Depot. I landed there after an “Ooo, Shiny” moment.

My voicemail system kept telling me I was entering the wrong password, not reading my entries and shutting me out. After 3 tries I called Verizon, whose system also shut me out, twice. And I started screaming. I screamed at my phone, slammed it into my journal a few times and threw it in the back seat. And magically Office Depot appeared. Oooo, shiny.

I asked my mom to pull over and explored the store for awhile, where I discovered my next project find. I brought my mom in and bought the stuff and she helped me return some stuff. But they charged me the wrong price. Something I could not deal with. I wandered away and sat by a trash can and just kept repeating, “I don’t understand. Why can’t it make sense?” She fixed it but tried to tell me when that happens I have to do something. I told her there’s a difference between knowing I need to do something and actually being able to do it.

I saw my psychiatrist today. I told him all about the past few weeks. I consulted my mood chart to remember. He said, “That’s sad. Your brain is playing tricks on you.” No shit, Dr. N. Lol. He always says, “You should see a shrink.” He makes me laugh. He said I should go to BYU (clog camp). He thinks it’ll be good for me. I’m scared but I think it’ll be good for me too.

This lecture is a weird mix of pieces from other lectures. Like leftover therapy stew.

(walk around the garden talking to myself)

Today I asked my mom, “What is a turkey sandwich?” Dr. N says my brain just checks out, shuts down in times of acute stress. But I can’t remember what was so stressful. I think a combination of the extreme stress from Dr. T and my session with Jim last week. But they were not close together. I’m surprised I’m not more stressed by or dwelling on the lack of music in my life. The days just fade into each other and I forget. I’ve been watching DVDs lately. I never watch DVDs.

Gosh I love this garden.
I’m convinced today someone turned the stone fountain. But I’m pretty sure it’s me. I’d like to sit here every day. On the bench under the trellis, listening to the waterfall, walking the labyrinth, staring at the fish. Watching the bubbles slide down the stone fountain. The lavender bush on the path. Today there’s a detox girl walking with her visitor. She talks and talks and talks.

I picked a fuzzy pea pod off the trellis plant. I wish I could sit here every day. Where the world stops for a moment and I find me, looking good. What a day.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2011