Tag: anxiety

Eight Day Migraine

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Family Catch-up

Yall know I’ve been stressed. I haven’t been posting a ton, but you remember the family drama, right? My (low contact) dad died and my sisters be crazy and I got tossed back into the turmoil I needed therapy to escape.

Actually, I just looked it up to backlink and I haven’t posted about it since the day he died. That’s how you know its stressful. You stop trying your stress relief and asking for help because it’s just fucked.

Hmm. Wow. How do we update this without a thesis? Dad died, obviously. I don’t get bereavement leave and took unpaid time to be there when he died. So lame. It’s not relevant, but I’m bitter.

So, my sister, the caretaker is kinda of taking charge of everything. Cause My father had a will that left the house to her but he never signed it because OF COURSE. And while he was with his GF for 16 years, they weren’t married and she had her own house closer to her work so they can’t establish common law marriage. So that leaves us with having to get an attorney to settle the estate and all 5 children have to agree to everything and/or get an equal cut.

So caretaker sister was doing that. She had already been doing a bunch of it and keeping everyone totally up to date. Then she went to pick up the death certificates and someone already had. Turns out secret family step brother had picked them up. He claimed it was to be helpful. But really he was getting his own attorney to get power of the estate — which doesn’t matter because the law would still be the same, but some people are stupid. Well, I actually saved the day by telling them that she could just go print a new one for $15 and she did so she beat him to it. But I still got yelled at a ton.

Why? Cause evil secret family step brother is trying to thwart everyone on every single fucking thing. First it was the death certificates. Then he filmed everything in the house to document it so nothing would be lost. Then fighing over what real estate agent to use. Refusing to let movers be paid for by the estate (my solution to “im not helping”) or help himself. And all through all of this shit he lying his teeth off about how he’s doing it to protect caregiver sister. Whatever.

Oh wait — so antifreeze sister and secret family step brother think there is money to be had. Cause dad lived like he had money. And they’re stupid. Dad owed years of back taxes and had a reverse mortgage. So no. I was on team — just let them reposes everything. But my siblings wanted to sell the house because even with the reverse mortgage there was/is money to be made. So I was like sure, I vote to sell too. So then they had to fix shit and pack up the house and move the packed up shit (cause dad was kind of a hoarder about buying ALL THE SHIT). And I got a fuck ton of flack for not being there helping. EVEN FROM MY SISTER IN LAW.

Yall, I wanted to let it get repossessed. I don’t want any of his shit. I’m not the one stealing death certificates and getting my own attorney. Yet I’m getting yelled at over text way too much. And secret family step brother is a total piece of shit. His attorney sent a letter of his demands which was everything with VIN plus everything of any value — plus dads retirement axe and medals. Like everything. Which I find especially scummy because he demanded the only two things the girl friend of 16 year wanted. Fucking piece of shit. I get that both of his parents had personality disorders so he surely does as well — but he has a wife. How is she justifying her husband acting like this? Someone dies and you just run in and try to take it all? I’m told they DID actually try to get the house too. They wanted to take out a reverse mortgage of their own to pay off dads reverse mortgage and they get the house. Yeah… the law don’t work like that.

So we’re selling dads house and vehicles and, now everything. And now that secret family step brother is fighting us in court, we’re going to have to sell EVERYTHING. Yeah, like even the personal shit. If you want it, you gotta buy it from the estate. Which, I don’t want any of it – but that’s harsh, man. Also, all the money we’re spending to fight his attorney will come out of the estate at the end. He’s gonna get 1/5th of the money no matter what — that’s the law. So why is he making it so difficult? Also, he still has one of the vehicles (illegally) and won’t give caretaker sister the millage to estimate it’s value for sell. Last I heard (over a week ago), she was going to have the attorney demand it be returned or report it missing if he doesn’t. Cause… you can’t have a car that’s not yours. Like what are you even thinking? It’s not in your name. How would you even renew the tags? What is happening?

And yes, I DO have all of these text messages muted. But I still see them. And it’s very stressful. And I’m tried of getting shat on by my family. Also, YALL ARE INSANE. This is a fucking soap opera. The step brother from dads secret family is suing us for everything after his death That’s a bad tv plot.

Work Catch-up

I haven’t posted at all about work. Because it’s a cluster fuck. I don’t know if you follow the news, but the US is kinda going up in flames at the moment. I’m a federal employee. So yadda yadda yadda, we gotta get rid of 2000 people. DRP, DRP2, VERA/VSIP — only half there, guys! So they cut all the probationary people. Not enough. Until recently, I didn’t have to worry too much, cause I’m a term. Meaning I was hired for a term. For the past few years, my company has only been letting people hire on as terms and not “perms” (permanent employees). They just extend the terms forever. So until recently, it didn’t affect me. They had to cut perms. My job wouldn’t affect anything. Well, then they decided that you could only have 10% overage as well — overage is the term employees. We have way too many. So until we get down to our goal staff, we can’t renew terms. My term is up January 17, 2026.

Well, they really need some of us. (LISTEN — there is government fat that needs cutting. You know who it is? The lifers that don’t do work and you can’t fire them. But this isn’t touching those people). So they were extending some terms to get us out of the cut window. But then FRAGO23 hit and they wouldn’t let them extend terms anymore. So I get called into a meeting with 3 up my chain of command to inform me my extension had not been processed yet. FUCK. They extended me and then reneged it!

So now I gotta find a job. Husband got laid off in April and so is in his gap year. SO I HAVE OUR HEALTH INSURANCE. We have savings and no debt so we are so awesome. Like everyone else is fucked and we are crazy blessed. But, I still need insurance. We can’t not have insurance. So I gotta find a job. With insurance. Now. And it’s more stressful job hunting when it’s just you with the insurance. I can’t go on husbands insurance — HES ON MINE.

So I’m job hunting! I’ve been to a symposium, a hiring event, and today I had an interview. Fun. Fun times. Not like everyone else isn’t looking for a job too. I fucking hate new jobs.

Migraine

So suffice to say, I’m fucking stressed to hell. I had my regular followup with my neurologist last month and they were like “how are your headaches?” And I was like really fucking bad. Cause anxiety and stress makes migraines worse. I know this. So I’m like — I’m stressed to fuck and my neck is jank. But they were like — well… we’re gonna do an MRI and more physical therapy for your neck anyway. Awesome.

Then last Monday, I started getting a bad headache. Mostly sound sensitive. PT on Tuesday and it started to become light sensitive. Wednesday we had a meeting with my new division at work.

— Wait — more background — were doing a whole new reorg and it is a CLUSTERFUCK. Like I am on the Titanic. So really, I think God is just forcing me out of this shitty job that he knew I wouldn’t leave due to inertia. —

New division is such an epic clusterfuck that you just can’t even say anything. You just have to go — yep. Ok. You wanna die, fine — lets go play music while the ship sinks. Great plan, AMERICA. So combine that with the Migraine and I left early.

Tuesday I had tried one rescue med. Wednesday I decided to try another. I can’t drive on that one so It meant taking Thursday off too. Yeah, neither worked. So Thursday, I call the neurologist twice. Then again once on Friday. And Friday at close, I get a call that they’re calling in a different rescue med.

Well, insurance doesn’t cover it. And their office is closed now for the weekend. The no cost help-pay option only works if insurance covers part of it — then the drug company pays the rest. So that’s no help. GoodRx price was $1,200. FOR HOW MANY? 10 pills. Can I get less? Hold. We can do 3 pills for $400. How much is a fucking dose? 1 pill. How much is one pill? $140. Fucking fill it.

Two days missed work, three rescue meds — one of which cost $140 — didn’t fix the migraine. So Monday I’m at work and my stomach is just going “im gonna barf im gonna barf im gonna barf.” I can wok through pain, but working through “im gonna barf” is significantly more difficult. So I call the neurologist again — I’ve missed 2 days of work and spent over $150 and you haven’t fixed it. And they’re like — yo you gotta go to the hospital or urgent care then. Wait WHAT? What the fuck can urgent care do?

So I call Urgent Care. They can give me two shots. Then if that doesn’t work, the next day, they can hook me up to some IVs. Holy shit, why didn’t anyone tell me this last week? I’m on my way.

So I go and they’re like rate your pain. I fucking hate rating my pain. I have a high pain tolerance and I really think that a 10 should be “I’ve cut my hand off but I can still talk and answer this question.” So I learned that you don’t give them a number, you tell them how it is affecting your life. So I was like driving makes me want to cry, I feel like I ate ecoli tainted mexican food, I’ve missed 2 days of work, and I paid $150 for a PILL. ONE PILL. Do you know how much ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS IS? And now I’m here even though this means I have to work late to make it up. “So 8 then?” Sure. Oh and, obviously, my head feels like it’s in a vice grip, but we discussed that’s easier to sit through than the barf thing.

So they gave me a shot in each side of my ass on Monday.

It’s Wednesday and I think we’re finally over the hump. I did think it was totally gone but I do admit that typing this, I have a bit of a headache.

It’s stress. Stress is going to kill me.

A Deep Dark Pit

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on A Deep Dark Pit

I just sent this text to my besties:

“My bestest buddies.  I hate who I have become.  And that is the crazy lunatic on the street corner yelling about the end of the world.  No really.  Every bit of life seems covered in the black ink of a trump-musk-lovecraftian-cephalapod with  tentacles reaching into every thing.  

I can’t seem to escape it.  It’s everywhere.  I feel like America is just doomed and I need to leave the country.  

I’m serious.  

If I lose my shitty fucking  job, I don’t have health insurance and I can’t live without health insurance and there’s no jobs here.  

I miss my mother so much lately.  I almost reflexively called her leaving work the other day.  At least I don’t have to see her become a MAGA cultist cause she sure would have and I don’t know how I’d have been able to maintain our relationship as it was. 

An online buddy messaged to commiserate about *gestures broadly* and I just wanted for like an hour.  Cause that’s me now.  I’m like the opposite of whatever a MAGA cultist is.  Like if they’re Q-Anon, im like Z-laid-Bare.  

I went with Z because Q is round and curly and Z is straight and spiky.  

How are you getting through?

Send me happy pictures of you enjoying life.  I’m laying on my couch.  Maybe I can nap. “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here’s me ranting of over an hour to someone who tried to talk to me:

“I hate this place”

You sent: Same same same

*Husband* won’t move though

Like fucking everyone loves Germany

We know people who worked there for years

He’s like “it’s too close to Russia”

AMERICA IS TOO CLOSE TO RUSSIA RIGHT NOW

[…]

How on Earth can a trumper be married to a non?

Cause I can’t even get online and play pinochle with my in laws LOL

Cause I got nothing nice to say

Don’t ask me how I am. Don’t ask about my job. Don’t ask about my hobbies. Don’t ask about my friends.

TRUMP HAS DESTROYED EVERYTHING

we are a military town. Period

It’s being destroyed and half the people here voted for it

We were purple at best

Everyone is losing their damn jobs

Including my husband

Every single company is on a strict hiring freeze

Our savings and retirement has TANKED

my job is constantly under threat

I’m one of those understandable federal workers y’all hate so much

They crippled the unions

I get near DAILY email updates about work changes

4 Cadbury Eggs is NINE DOLLARS

Boardgames are dead

Indi Kickstarters can’t function now

Ive got 200$ in board games I likely will never get now

One was supposed to ship in July.

Oh and Nintendo halted all presales of the new switch 2 and Mario kart to the US

My friend lost her job at ** because she was a contractor and wanted to leave her contractor. She had an offer they couldn’t meet. ** tried everything to hire her, but it’s a hiring freeze. There’s nothing they could do to keep her

Oh we’re going into a depression

Our town is already on the brink

My whole family voted for this

And *husband*’s parents did

And his mom keeps posting crazy as fuck trumper cult shit

Calling the left the Nazis

WTF

and he’s talking about sending US citizens to El Salvador prisons

And he put out another damn EO that federal workers who work on policies are now a new category that can be fired if they don’t do what the president wants

It’s sounds fake, but that’s legit what it says in those words

So only yes men, not actual advisors

Legally

He’s in contempt of the damn supreme court

The unions were trying to fight. And they cut all the autodeduct union dues

Illegally, of course, but most of this shit is

But good luck fighting it with no money

*Husband*’s bro and sis aren’t MAGA thank god

But I’ve honestly gone crazy

I’m ranting as much as a MAGA person

I’m unpleasant

I’m furious

And I can’t ignore it CAUSE ITS MY JOB

Like I can’t stop ranting about this shit because if you ask me about ANYTHING, Trump has wrecked it

Fuck, last night I got a cat bed ad that they were having to close because they can’t source their wool from the US

This is insane

I want to leave but *Husband* won’t hear it

Plus I think he thinks I’m joking

I suggested Germany since we have family that lived there for years on work

Or Scotland. They speak English! Louie wouldn’t even have to go into quarantine

He doesn’t even have a job so only one of us has to get one

There won’t be any jobs here anytime soon

And if I lose mine, we don’t have insurance

And they are restructuring the DOD and literally no one has any idea what that means

Someone in a ** all hands asked if ** might get cut and the answer was WE DON’T KNOW

And it’s so damn stupid

Every single federal salary is less than 4% of our budget

So it’s all for show

And my MAGA family wants to go to a wedding they have to fly to. So they need Star IDs. But every StarID office is booked out for months all over the state and the wedding is next month

Oh you know why? Those were FEDERAL WORKERS

And they’re legit complaining

Also, you’ve had like a decade to get this

Yeah. I’m so sad because for some weird reason the *city* Reddit is just people who actively hate *city*. And they’re cheering this shit

Cause they see all the engineers as snobs or whatever

Oh and I’ve forgotten return to office

It’s hell

And so stupid

None of our work has changed, we’re still on all TEAMS calls, just with other people on the same or different TEAMS calls in the same room with us

Broken pipes

Buildings that haven’t been kept up since 2000

Air quality that fails national standards

Internet infrastructure that can’t keep up

And pipes that literally can’t handle all these people using the toilets

We got administrative leave the other day cause they revoked telework and the heat didn’t work LOL

And a lot of the buildings are completely given up or demoed. So the space everyone had previously isn’t there

And everyone’s just like “oh poor you, you have to go to the office like the rest of us”

My building is getting a new roof RIGHT NOW and the tar smell and burnt rubber smell makes my eyes literally water

But there’s signs posted everywhere that it’s not toxic!

So see, I’m just a mad woman now

I got another antianxiety pill LOL

I think we could immigrate if we wanted. And I totally would

And dude. Dude. This is just the beginning

Tomorrow trump gets the 90 day report on the border

He can declare martial law

And all these CHRISTIANS

Don’t care about the immigrants

But they post that whole “they came for the Jews and I said nothing …” Shit

ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND

EXACTLY!

And Jesus Jesus Jesus

That cabinet?

Kennedy?

Everyone’s like it’ll change in 4 years. There’s checks and balances

If the government collapsed, no it won’t

And Trump is literally in contempt of the SUPREME COURT

and listen I hate that smug motherfucker so much and I’d take a bullet for him cause YOU WILL NOT MAKE HIM A MARTYR

I haven’t seen any actual trumpers I know show regret yet

They spout his lies

Just blatant fucking lies LOL

Like saying that poor Maryland guy was in court multiple times and found to be a gang member

They said that

On TV

But like dude, that’s not remotely in the realm of truth

I want to say you can’t just LIE

But apparently, you totally can

And are we actually going to invade Greenland? I honestly think we are

Now our allies AND our enemies hate us

And DOGE took all the classified info from every database

They have all the info for everyone. Voting registration, immigration status

They literally just marked a ton of legal immigrants as dead in the ss system

And they ACTUALLY SAID they want to “make their lives do difficult they will self deport”

Soon anyone anti Trump in high position will be a terrorist and in El Salvador

He lined it all up already

Especially with yesterday’s EO

That means everyone in Congress who disagrees

Senate

“Policy makers”

[…]

Oh the majority of Christians have never followed anything Christ actually said

It makes me sad it’s so easy to get into heaven but I’m supposed to rejoice in their salvation

But like… Can they go now?

OMG and war plans on a phone chat app

My god

I need more pills

I’m not gonna make it

And *Husband* is just like you gotta get off the news

You gotta get off social media

Stop reading reddit

stop watching YouTube

These are what I do

I can’t even follow gaming now cause board games and Mario kart got fucked

Ugh. I hate myself now. I hate who I’ve become. I hate what this country has become

I’m going to get ice cream

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also, there is family DRAMA going down. Dad’s in the hospital again. I got disowned last time over this. Now it’s happening again. Yay, text messages…

Trauma Dump

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 2 Comments on Trauma Dump

ISSUES Are Troubling Me

OK. I got issues. I keep having family nightmares — or I don’t know — bad dreams. Every night lately and yesterday even in my damn afternoon nap. I’d say Gods telling me to contact my family, but I feel like if that were the case, he’d send me a happy memory and not just a lot of fucking trash. Also, they all got my number and they all have my address. I did try to reach out about doing lunch on moms birthday, but my bro said he’d check their schedules and never got back to me. But they had a dinner with my sisters in moms memory. Which I get it, my sisters are right there and I’m 90 miles away but COME ON.

I’m Too Poor for a Therapist

I could probably work this out with a therapist, but I don’t have a therapist. I do have a psychiatrist and it’s $130 to see him. Why? Because we have a lack of every type of medical professional here, including mental health and none of them accept insurance because they don’t have to — they’re overloaded with patients as is. And he only does like 10 minutes to talk about meds — not problems. Psychologists are for THAT. So do I want to pay a hundred-plus dollars to talk to someone? Not really. I want to work on my tattoo.

But I can’t work on my tattoo until I pay back my savings I took out to build the deck (which I have HEAVILY enjoyed for two summers now, BTW — totally worth the cost). That was the deal. I’ll stop throwing boat loads of money at my tattoo until I payback my savings I took out for the deck. And I have paid back the deck — but then I also ended up need to replumb some pool pipes. And then get a whole ass new pool pump last year. And then a new salt cell this year. And next summer I’m gonna need a pool robot. And do I want to replace the pool lights? They haven’t worked for like 3 summers — which I’m told they don’t last very long (they’re actually small LED lights, not the big old pool lights that I used to fear were secretly doors that they could open for the sharks to come out and swim at night). Supposedly a super easy replacement that doesn’t require draining any water — so I might depending on the cost. BUT COST. Yeah I paid back the deck, but thousands went into the other shit. I could have finished the whole damn sleeve by now!

I mean to be fair, the pool is nine summers old. So it’s not that the pool is a clusterfuck, it’s just the age that these things fail. The pipes were in full blast sun and the PVC broke down enough to burst. Repiped — but when they burst, the pool got low enough to run dry and burn out the pump. Of course they don’t make my pump anymore so I couldn’t replace just the electronics, I had to replace the whole damn thing. And salt cells usually only last 5 years, I’m told so ours held in pretty long. So has Clarence the pool robot. He’s about 3 years past usual life expectancy but I did have his under carriage replaced a few years back so that might be why he made it so long.

Therapists Suck

Also, it would take like 5 sessions to catch a therapist up on my problems before we could get anywhere. And of course a TON of time is going to be wasted focusing on me being fat being all of my problems. BECAUSE THAT’S ALWAYS THE CASE. I tried therapy back in like 2000 cause I was suicidal and self harming and the motherfucker thought it was all about me being fat and “socially unacceptable” and that was his plan to go forward. Not to fix generational trauma and abuse — I’m just fat.

By the way, the only time i ever lose weight or maintain weight is when I’m happy. Weight is a symptom not the problem at all. Even when I got skinny after Gastric Bypass I was still miserable. And of course that was just an embarrassing failure. And now I’ve gained 7 pounds because perimenopause is kicking my ass so fucking hard and I’m anxious and I’m depressed and I’m being fucking haunted.

That’s right, I said haunted. Yesterday I had to get out of bed at 6 fucking AM with a panic attack. And it’s just all nightmares. I tried to take an afternoon nap to be happy on my long weekend and catch up on sleep and I woke up in another sweaty nightmare.

Like I have an anxiety disorder. “General Anxiety” I think is the technical term? But I don’t think they mean like “oh she’s generally anxious.” I think they mean we can’t put this in a category of “social anxiety” or anything specific — shes just got a lot of anxiety about fucking everything. And now my GYN is like yeah you have menopausal anxiety. THANKS, LIFE.

Now You’re My Therapist. Be Warned, Shits About to Get Real

So my nightmares have generally been family mess. It’s always family fights. Surprisingly usually set in Florida. So Florida was always our summer vacation. Timeshare. It was moms favorite place and I loved the beach too — but like with my family there’s always gonna be some drama so it’s not like that didn’t just take place in new locations. So yeah, when I was very young and stupid, I looked forward to Florida like crazy. But then it stated just becoming a clusterfuck. And I don’t get why mom loved it so much. I mean maybe she was like yall are a hot mess anyway so we might as well be a hot mess at the beach. But I actually felt horrible the last few years of her life because I felt like I was contributing to the drama. By refusing to just not rock the boat and not let shit go, I’m the bitch. I was the bitch complaing about my sisters so just as bad as them on everyone mental health.

My brother always called me and my sisters “the Golden Girls” — he knew it got under my skin at least like no other. Any fight and “oh they’re the golden girls.” Mother fucker, I’m not the crazy ass one here! I’m just trying to have actual healthy boundaries and not let them get away with their shit! Which let’s start there. I adore my brother. But he’s not blameless. He always lumped me in with my sisters which UGH. And my length of college was a huge running joke in my family — mainly instigated by him. He’d always ask when I was going to finally graduate. There’s a Christmas ornament of a graduate on my dads Christmas tree dated 2009. Did I graduate in 2009? No. They just didn’t have any other personality trait to choose for my ornament. Bro was a nurse, Sister1 was a nurse, Sister2 had a paint set, and I had a graduation outfit. Cause I was in college for 10 years. Not because I’m stupid but because I was trying to get through a lot of shit, okay? Did anyone wanna ask about that? No. It’s funnier not to.

That was part of one of the dreams last night. Like I was getting ready for a party — like a nice dress up party like homecoming or something. But we were in Florida so I only had a few things to choose from and I had gained weight so my best options were too tight. And Sister2 for some reason was supposed to take me or go with me or something (a reoccurring of her always stealing the spotlight in my dreams). I think brother was going to take us because he was mad that we weren’t ready. But I was ready! Sister2 was in the bathtub crying for hours and yelled at me when I went in to get my toothbrush. And in her/moms room there were pills everywhere. Like piles of pills laid out — prescription drug-problem shit. So I show brother and he just gets mad. And why do I want to go to this dance anyway? Because it’s my last year of highschool so I want to go to at least one. But wait, I’m 27 (in the dream) and don’t most people graduate high school at 18? Why am I so late? Did mom hold me back some grades and not tell me? What happened?

Yesterday I was napping and we were in Florida and I had a nice room and Sister2 demanded it and I was super sad because it had windows and views and mine now didn’t. And the windows were open with tons of fresh air and beautiful flowers and scents drifting in… And I go shit all.

And the night before last, we were preparing a party for my nephew. They were making cookies for the party and I really wanted to make some too. But I had to clean so I was vacuuming. And Sister1 was acting like I just didn’t want to make cookies and it was my fault I didn’t get to participate. And then brother was yelling about how dirty everything was. And then I finally went to make a cookie but all the sprinkles were gone — but I was like whatever, I’ll use this icing and then bro got mad and started jerking around the vacuum cleaner cause everythings so filthy and none of us will ever clean anything and he gets the cords all in the icing and it ends up all over the carpet and now we can’t have the party cause I ruined it. And now everyone’s mad at me. Also, I thought Sister1 was teaching nephew how to cook burgers in the kitchen but it was my dad. Which might be my subconscious acknowledging that he’s pretty much a feeble old man now.

Most of the time Florida is over and we have to pack up the cars but Sister2 brought like 3 fucking suitcases and hasn’t packed anything so I gotta do it and clean everything up.

So yeah, are these spooky monster dreams? No. I’m not saying they are. But they are clearly my brain ruminating on something it wants out.

Sister2 was always a problem in Florida. She would always bring way too much clothes that brother and sister1 always bitched about because they took up too much space in the car and on the dolly up to the room and in the room. and Sister2 never went to the beach or wanted to do anything. So they were always mad about that. And as we got older, the problems were worse. She was always a binge eater, so she’d eat all the groceries and everyone would be mad because now there’s no food when we had bought food for the week.

She’s been an alcoholic since I can remember. But can my family just maybe NOT have alcohol? Of course not. So she’d just drink it all and get sloppy drunk and piss herself. She always drunk to get black out drunk. Like that was the goal. And we’d all go down to the beach to enjoy the day and she’d steal money from someone and go across the street to get alcohol to do it again. Once she locked herself in a closet with a 24 pack of beer and there was much screaming and ranting and brother threatening to break down the door. Once she got drunk and left to “go kill herself” — so of course mom was freaking out and we had to go find her. There were quite a few times we had to go find her while she was drunk out of her mind. This was before cellphones. I’m old.

She’s always smoked too. And everyone ALWAYS bitches about it. But it was particularly annoying because she had to inconvenience mom the most. Like in Florida, she wouldn’t go through the living room to get to the balcony to smoke — she had to go into moms room and use that balcony door. And in the house we lost to the second bankruptcy, she couldn’t go through the garage to go outside to smoke, she had to go through moms tiny room which had a sliding door to get out. And even as adults, people bitch about “she’s over there in the corner smoking” or something. When we lived in the apartments, shed toss her cigarettes out the window and the maintenance people got mad and gathered them all up and piled them outside our door in moms flowers. Pretty sure I had to clean that up.

And my brother and sister1 always hated her. So I always had to deal with it. She pissed herself and passed out in the living room? Mom wants me to get her to her room. Then I gotta clean the damn area rug and I’m covered in piss. Once she passed out on the lawn and I had to go get her immediately before the neighbors saw. Why am I always the one taking care of this shit? Cause brother and sister moved out and I’m the youngest. But even in our first house we lost to bankruptcy, I was cleaning her messes. Like she was bulimic. But for some reason she threw up in a 5 gallon bucket in her closet instead of the bathroom. Who the fuck knows why. So do you know how bad a 5 gallon bucket of vomit smells? Real bad. And do you know it’s too heavy for mom to get? Yeah, so I gotta do it. Get it downstairs and across the yard to dump it. Like am I the vomit bucket fairy? It’s like people think trash and recycling just disappears if you leave it long enough. THAT’S BECAUSE I’M THE VOMIT AND PISS FAIRY.

This might be why I’m so anal about my house not smelling bad, BTW.

And brother was always just angry and disgusted with us. We had far too many pets because dad dumped his dogs at our place. So we had like 10 Beagles to breed and train. Oh and who had to go hose the dog shit out of the kennels? Yeah, ME. So much dog shit. Wet stinky dog shit being hosed off concrete. By me. And I never did it enough so I felt bad for the dogs. I was the only one who cared to go pet them.

And the cats just used the dining room as a litter box. Just shit everywhere. And mom worked 4 jobs so the only one ever cleaning anything up was me and I wasn’t good at it or did it enough so of course the house is always filthy and it’s always me getting yelled at for it (not by mom — she was just broken and trying to survive). Cause I’m one of the disgusting worthless golden girls.

You know, I cleaned up a lot of shit and vomit and piss was growing up, now that I think of it.

Anyway, Sister2 was also insane and abusive. I couldn’t sleep cause she’d wake me up by hitting me and yelling and shit. Usually because my TV was on. I liked to fall asleep to QVC and I was allowed to. But no matter how low the volume was, it was too loud for her. And after school she’d be mean and yell and throw shit at me. Like hard core throwing shit at my head. Once I flipped the recliner ducking something. She was like a harpy.

That’s why my dog hated her. He wasn’t a bad dog, he was defensive of me. The only being to ever give a shit about my child self. I slept in moms bed a lot cause I had this intense fear mom would die. And she had a california king bed and I was scared of the dark… and sister2. So the dog would sleep at the end of the bed. And sister2 would walk all the damn way across the house past their bathroom to use moms bathroom in the middle of the night (seriously, WHY WAS SHE ALWAYS HARASSING MOM) — but if me and dog were in there he’d just growl and not let her in the room. He was just protecting me. But she couldn’t do anything when mom was home. But after school she could trick the dog by baiting him and wrapping him in blankets to throw in the closet — only to let him out right before mom got off work so she wouldn’t know.

Bitch be crazy. So dog hated her and attacked her. So dog had to go. Mom says she gave dog away but dad said he tied dog up and drug him out in the woods to shoot him. He told me that after school when I got home and dog wasn’t there. Why are these people so fucking insane?

I mean, I know the answer. Sister2 has been diagnosed with antisocial personality behavioral disorder. I’m sure that’s dads problem too. And dad is for sure a narcissist to rule them all. I didn’t know that when I was little so I idealized him. Everyone else hated dad, but I loved him. When I visited his apartment, he’d buy men CANNED COKE. We were too poor to have that shit — so like awesome. He’d only come over to the house to work in the garage on wood projects — but I’d go down there and watch. His friend would sometimes give me scrap blocks to play with and help me put together little creations I made with the scraps. The friend, not dad.

Those weren’t the only dog problems. We had a newfoundland in fucking Alabama that we just tied up in the backyard when I was really little. She was pretty neglected. I did take care of her food and water, but she was so big and drooly and matted and smelly that I didn’t really like doing it. Not that I was ever mean to the dog — no I petted her, and we played in the backyard together. But I was the only one to take care of her and when she died dad went on a rant about how I was the only one to give a shit about that dog and I felt existentially terrible because I didn’t like taking care of her and knew she was neglected.

Then we got the dog that hated my sister that dad may or may not have killed. I liked that one. But I couldn’t save him or protect him either so I swore to never let down another dog. I couldn’t even get him out of the closet.

We DID try family therapy once. It was a group session with us all in the room. And like yall expect me to talk about my abusers — WHILE THEY’RE IN HERE? Yeah fuck you, I’m fine. I’m great even.

But when I was little, I actually did believe that. I didn’t know I had problems or was unhappy. I didn’t know I lived in an abusive codependent household. In FACT, I was so jealous of the mentally depressed girl and troubled girls at school cause they go so much extra attention. I tried to hide in church and being a bubble Christian. Gotta be crazy to be interesting, I thought. Then like 5 years later I busted and went bat shit insane. So there’s that.

I used to think my sister was haunted by a demon. I’m not sure I don’t still think that. I do know she is highly troubled. I remember once she was crazy drunk and I was trying to get away and go to my room but she was taunting me. I was studying my Bible and she asked me to read the Bible to her. I passed, ’cause hey Satan, not today. And it was just this creepy horror movie taunt about why didn’t I love her enough to read the Bible to her. Now that I’m older – I’m not throwing out the demon thing – but I do know she had multiple abortions. Maybe she was trying to drown that out. She was obsessed with this asshole for years and YEARS — like a decade. Fucking Ryan. But he never loved her back.

It’s pitiable, really. Truly. But does that negate all of my suffering at her hand?

As far as Dad, everyone hated him when I was little, but then it flipped. I had a mental breakdown and realized hey — Dad is a son of a bitch. He’s been trying to ruin moms life for 40 years. So much of our family is insanely fucked up and this motherfucker is why. He sprung a secret ass family on me when my step brother was 16 and moving in the next week. Then yelled at me for not being accepting. Not that I was unaccepting, I was emotionless as I had been trained to be from a very young age. I didn’t say shit. But dad projected that I was angry and was furious.

Oh yeah, after the first bankruptcy, I moved in with dad. See, he had moved back into our house (not as like being with mom, just like — hey I live downstairs now). And we lost the house. So we had to get apartments so we got two two bedrooms and sister2 lived with mom and I lived with dad — because this was before I knew dad was an evil son of a bitch. And that’s when I found out secret step brother was moving in. (Looking back, 30 years later — this is why I wasn’t allowed to keep anything in “MY” room at dads — makes sense, it was really his room). It was a cluster fuck cause I was in high school and people were like wait, you live with your dad? Cause mom was everyone’s beloved teacher (rightfully so) and I came to school with her. And even from my youngest age we always centered holidays around dad. They were at his apartment or his house. No presents could be opened until the video recorder was set up for dad to watch later.

I was just dead inside when I lived with dad. Like emotion-wise. Not ailment wise. The stress was killing me I just didn’t know it. I was on smooth muscle relaxers for the constant stomach cramping pain and vomiting. But I was so broken, I didn’t even think I had problems. Anyway, after a year of that, my brother and his wife were like “Mrs C can’t live with dad anymore” and we got a three bedroom so I could move in with mom and sister2. Yay! More abusive, psychological warfare, and piss!

Then we got the second house we lost to bankruptcy (fun FACT! This is where moms flamingos are from). Then I moved to college. And started getting therapy. And started hating dad. But like, now everyone loves dad or at least sees him as worthy of living in his delusion. So last year when he almost died because he refuses to control his diabetes and got an infected hair on his balls and went septic, I didn’t wanna baby sit. And somehow I’M THE BAD GUY?

So they like disowned me for the year, right? My sisters still haven’t opened the christmas gifts I sent them. They didn’t come to Thanksgiving at my brothers. But Sister1 weirdly stayed here when she was in town and needed a free bed. It was awkward.

I finally talked to SIL the other day — after like 9 months of unreturned calls. I mentioned my banishment and she was like naw, they just don’t communicate. She says she never talks to them either but thats not true cause I have facebook and see photos. I wasn’t invited to the family vacation but they’re playing the “everyone is always invited” card. And my sisters have started commenting on my posts sometimes. Like WTF? Last week there was a post by dads girlfriends that mentioned Sister2s cats were leaving at the end of the year. I was curious but didn’t know what was up. Cause I was disowned and no one talks to me anymore.

Background on Sister2s cats. When we lost the second house, mom moved in with my brother and his wife and Sister2 moved into my brothers old house. She was supposed to pay rent but hardly ever did. Eventually SIL got super self conscious that mom was running her house way better than her so they kicked mom out to live with Sister1. Well, the only way to get Sister2 out of their house was to sell it. So they did and mom convinced Sister1 to take in Sister2 for 4 months. So Sister2s cats went to live with Dads girlfriend. But Dads girlfriend doesn’t even live at her house. She kinda lives between that house and dads. And Sister2s cats don’t get along with her pets so they’ve been confined to a single bedroom for… oh 10 years now. Sister2 never visits them.

Yes, Sister2 has tried to move in with me. No. Yes, Sister2 did try to get me to take her cats for “just a month.” Then they wanted me to take them again after Jack died (hence my keeping Louie a secret at first).

Sister1 is just a completely bitter bitch now. So hateful. BY THE WAY — mom was afraid to move in with my husband and I because she said she’d destroy us like she did with my brother and SIL (getting kicked out) and turning Sister1 into a little dad. So sad. It wasn’t mom, it was that fucking leach.

Sister1 hates Sister2 and is so angry that she’s been stuck with her since mom died. But like, kick that bitch out, I’m not taking her. And there’s resentment from Brother and Sister1 that I lead this great life 90 miles away and they still have to take care of Dad and I refuse to help cause fuck that asshole. I’m polite and cordial. But no, fuck them.

And it’s so weird cause Sister1 has this facebook persona of the sweetest most hilarious person ever. Even my inlaws like her. But she’s not that person. But everyone buys it and adores her. I think husband would buy it if he wasn’t there witnessing her interacting with me. It’s really weird. I like her facebook persona. But she’s a wretched bitch.

My whole family has always had this weird two faced ability to be loved by people. Like I worked at Target for 5 years. Got sister2 a job there and people would be like “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE SISTER2’s SISTER?” Like bitch no, I’ve been here 5 years — she’s my sister. And Dad manages to get affair partners and wives and now a girlfriend. And Sister1 is beloved on social media.

IS IT ME? This might be one of my biggest reasons to absolutely refuse to have two faces. It’s fucking disgusting. But like, am I the problem? Because we could just have a fake holiday with the fake personas but like I cant do it. I hate you. I can’t let it go.

Maybe it me.

Is it me?

Yesterday, I was on a family group chat — the first in almost a YEAR. Sister2 has a new job with business cards (holy fuck, she only ever had a job like twice in her 50ish years). Everyone’s congratulating her (yes, I did too). And Dads girlfriend says she’ll tell her cats. Sister2 replies that she hopes to have an apartment by February. So that’s new.

But this dream haunting was already going on before that. Every night — fights with my sisters, sometimes my brother. Sister2 getting wasted and destroying everyone’s lives. Me getting fucked over so Sister2 can have what she wants. Me being blamed for everything.

The holidays are coming. what the fuck is happening for the holidays? Last year brother hosted Thanksgiving but I was the only family that went. He said hes not doing it again but SIL says they are. I thought about saying I’d do it — but like, that means I have to invite them all and have one of those fake persona parties. And pretend like yall haven’t ignored me for a year. I just want my brother’s family to come.

Works been a shit show too. I got into with my bosses (rightfully so). After one meeting, I was discussing it with two colleagues and my coworker-friend said she didn’t listen cause once me and x start going at it, she tunes out. I was like fuck me — I’m AW. He’s a guy who does no work and talks an ungodly amount. So at every meeting he talks for like 30 minutes and fucking everyone hates him and just doesn’t listen because it makes no sense so we just ignore it until it stops. AM I AW NOW?

AM I THE PROBLEM HERE?

This brings back a lot of childhood trauma. Sister2 is batshit (verified with paperwork) but she doesn’t KNOW she’s batshit cause the crazy. So when I was little I used to cry about it to mom and ask if I was like her. And mom would tell me no, of course not. But I was like — she doesn’t know she’s like her so HOW WOULD I KNOW?

And now I’m having an existential crisis as I type this — HOW WOULD I KNOW?

It could be me. I could just be a human piece of garbage. Maybe I am and I just don’t know it. What the difference between I have therapy and healthy boundaries and I’m just a bitch? I’m the only one who has to go to a psychiatrist to function.

I mean I do hate everybody.

Holy fuck I think it’s me.

Would the world be better without me? Cause I’m gonna be honest — it might be without dad and Sister2. Like I’m sorry I’m being honest. Mom would have been better. Sister1 would be better. I’d not have needed 20+ years of therapy.

Maybe I’m just a despicable fat blob of a toxicity like my uncle in law said. Well, he didn’t say the FAT part — I’m adding that on. I honestly have no idea right now. Wheres the ice cream? I need ice cream.

How do I make the nightmares stop? I can’t even fucking take a nap and pretend I’m dead because they’ll be there.

I’m literally going to cry with ice cream now. This is why I’m fat.

I suck.

Getting shit done at 4AM

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment on Getting shit done at 4AM

I’ve always had insomnia and extreme anxiety. We know that. I’ve had a sleep study done. I live in a perpetual state of “my sister will come in and start hitting me for leaving the TV on QVC again at any moment.” They were like you just have “spontaneous arousal” plus periodic limb movement disorder. So basically after every REM cycle, I come back up to near wake — which means pretty much ANYTHING is gonna pop me to fully awake. So I don’t get those ever deepening REM cycles. And yeah, I’m crazy.

So when perimenopause causes insomnia and anxiety — what happens when you already have those? WHAT HAPPENS?

You know what happens? You just start freaking the fuck out and you never sleep. I’m on staycation supposed to be relaxing but I can’t sleep. This is me doing laundry at 4am. I woke up to pee and was like fuck it, I’m not going to fall asleep for a few hours. I should do laundry.

That’s my staycation. I don’t have to freak out about my sleep schedule and husband is gone so I’m not disturbing anyone. Great time for this. I haven’t put up my laundry in at least over a month. Well over. But there’s always something I’d rather do. But hey, 4am, let’s do it.

Look! All my Duluth camisoles are clean!

Yes, I do have one in every color they’ve put out since I discovered them. I don’t know why three of those colors are shades of purple, but whatever. These are camisoles with built in bras. NOT a shelf bra. I don’t even know what the fuck a shelf bra is for. Like that only holds the shirt to your boobs. There’s no support. There’s no nipple coverage. It just holds the shirt in place. So you still gotta wear a bra.

These have a sewn in bra. Like pads — not removable pads either, they’re fully sewn in there. Do you know what that MEANS? It means I can wear the coolest-yet-still-coverage shirt with not bra. I can answer the door. I can go to the mailbox. I can have people in my house — in my camisole. No nipples showing. Tattoo on full display. Adjustable straps. I’m just comfortable. I LIVE IN THESE. Yall washing clothes when you run out of underwear, these are my washing cue.

Duluth. I fucking love Duluth. The clothes are just good quality shit made to fit a normal sized person who actually moves around. Nothing is stylish — it’s all functional core pieces. And that shit’s gonna LAST. Everything has a one year guarantee. Bring it back for any reason and they’ll replace or refund. Who else does that with clothes? Who else it gonna take back you 9 month old tshirt? I tell you who, Duluth.

I even got my husband on this brand. I bought him some of the bucknaked underwear and their classic 5-pocket pants. He liked the pants so much he got me to get them in another color. MY HUSBAND. So I went and got him some jeans on Wednesday. I had to return some adorable shorts I bought online that were too small for my thighs (sad times). So I was like, I’ll return these and get husband some good jeans. Cool. So I didn’t even bother looking, I just asked the guy whats the closest jeans you have to these pants. And that’s what I bought. Home free right? No. It’s Duluth.

So I’m walking out and I see this little dress thing on clearance. It had caught my eye the other day but was still too expensive, even on clearance. But now clearance was an additional 20% off in store. So I glance at the again. Built in bra — nice nice. Oh wait, holy FUCK ME, are those shorts?

So I grab some to try on. I never would wear something like this — but my friend, this dress is everything. All you need is panties. Very supportive bra built in. Shorts with pockets, check. Extra pockets, check. Open back shows my tattoo off, check.

Well, fuck. I’m wearing this to the Trash Pandas next week. I think it’s made for hiking and shit but you could do anything in this. It’s basically a leotard/bodysuit that looks like a casual dress. And I thought it would be fun because I don’t own anything even close to this. I’m gonna pick husband up from the airport in it!

Oh, and while I’m doing laundry over here… Here’s my top favorite Tshirts at the moment.

We got a pop culture reference, a cat (with a Vneck – love a Vneck), and three shirts referencing the word fuck. One with a muppet. I love Chef.

So yeah… “Cursing Cats and Curiosities” — NAILED THE NAME.

Oh and I called my psychiatrist and was like “yeah no, I’m no longer a functioning crazy person.” I’m requiring a nap EVERY DAMN DAY. Panic attacks every day. Perimenopause is like MY DEATH SPIRAL.

So he gave me MORE valium. I swear to god, my only super power is my inability to sleep. Once I told a pharmacist friend all the shit I take and she was like “I’d be passed out.” No, that’s the level of anxiety we are medically suppressing here. One day we’re all gonna get gassed and kidnapped and I’m gonna wake up and save us all cause aint nobody taking my ass down. Kidnapper farts and I’m awake. Oh you thought I was asleep? ME? HA! I heard everything you said. Now which reality is this — is this the one where I still have one class to take to finish my degree before everyone finds out I’m a sham (because they let me fake graduate with everyone, as long as I finish that one class)? Or the one where we are perpetually packing up to go home from the Florida trip because my sister brought an insane amount of shit that needs to be jammed in the car and she’s drunk off her ass pissing herself in the closet so I have to do it all? WHERE IS MY CAT, MOTHERFUCKER?

I’m gonna categorize this under “Health > Ageing – Not Gracefully.” I have a valium to go take.

DID MY HUSBAND FORGET TO CALL ME AGAIN?

I have an anxiety problem

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment on I have an anxiety problem

Do you ever have a panic attack?  You know how they spiral downhill quickly if you are not like ON IT immediately?

Well, I just had one, and thought “this is like the third panic attack in 25 hours.  What if it’s really my heart?” And then started panicking WAY MORE. 

I’ve found only recently that for me, stretching my chest out (cause my chest hurts a lot in panic attacks) and doing the counting breaths in and out helps.  In 1 2 3 4, out 1 2 3 4… But I’m also not good at it. 

So I just start pacing with my chest out beating my breast bone and speed counting 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 like I’m trying to cast out or summon demons.  Or 11’s mom.

Just thought I’d share.

Is it the perimenopause? Because I don’t need MORE SHIT.

Hiiiii

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on Hiiiii

I know, I should post. But like, I’m still spiraling out of control with my perimenopause over here. My anxiety is off the charts. So much so that I had a stressful work meeting this morning and had an anxiety attack and took the afternoon off. Work is shitty right now and I’m not in the mind space to handle this clusterfuck. So I laid down around 1:00 and slept till 5:00. DAY GONE. Awesome. But I did need the rest.

So I was going to post about the bedjet that I bought. It’s fucking awesome. But you know what? I’m not cool. And I want to post a really good review of it to help people like me that were trying to get some actual details on that shit. So I need to get some pictures. Also, they’re sending me some more (free) risers because my mattress is taller and I’m using the cloudsheet. So that’s coming.

When, I was trying to research it, I ended up in the Reddit subreddit r/menopause. I read a few threads about it but still had questions. So I asked my questions. And while I was posting, I mentioned the Estroven my doctor recommended and asked if anyone had any experience with that. Well, that was a mistake.

Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. That’s how cults happen.

Apparently, r/menopause is a bunch of hormone replacement therapy (HRT) evangelists and anyone who doesn’t immediately give you HRT is a shitty doctor who doesn’t know shit about the “current research.” Well, I mean, I’m 41 — I just got diagnosed, I don’t wanna jump straight into HRT. Maybe I’ll regret that later. Probably. But my doctor said to try a few over the counter things first. And I’m cool with that. I don’t agree with their opinion that you should use a telehealth doc that you can lie to to get it prescribed. Also, the threads about the hell of menopause and all the horrible effects are terrifying. Itchy ears? WTF? that’s a thing!? Like what are we talking, a contestant itch? Outside the ear? Inside? Does scratching help? How common is that?

So basically, it’s just a toxic cesspit and I had to leave that subreddit.

It reminded me of when I joined all the misophonia support groups. I found the constant focus on it and people bitching about it made it much worse.

I still would like info though. So I try googling about it, but there’s just a million differing opinions. And people selling supplements. And doctors have different opinions. It’s a clusterfuck. And I don’t see the point of trying to join anymore groups. The people seeking out these groups are the people like me — we’re spiraling out of control crazy people. And so then it’s a echo chamber of bat shit crazy woman demanding fake hormones and divorces.

I mean think about it. If you, say… worship Trump and feel like you’re being shunned by all your friends who say you’re crazy. You go online looking for solace and similar minded folks. All the sudden your in an insane echo chamber of Q-anon people and you won’t speak to your family cause you’re in some weird crazy Trumper cult now.

Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. I’ll say it again for the people in the back. Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. That’s how cults happen.

BTW, that’s why I loved my CODA group which I now avoid cause of that crazy guy. Is it a bunch of crazy people getting on zoom every Monday? YES. But we’re led and guided by a retired psychiatrist who points out our crazy.

To be fair, Doctors do fuck up — like a lot.

Though I don’t think a doctor would help these menopause groups because they don’t trust the doctors. Old (read MOST) studies say no HRT because increased bloodclots, heart disease, and cancer risks in some of us. Some studies say that’s not true. Some doctors say the better sleep and restfulness outweighs the risks to your heart because it’s helping you be more healthy in general. You know medicine, it’s always changing on what it says is healthy and what isn’t. Remember the fucking food pyramid? It was a foundation of carbohydrates. Literally. Breakfast cereal was in the FOUNDATION.

Also, I’m the first person to say don’t trust doctors. They tried to murder me when my gallbladder was going bad. The only reason I didn’t die was my underhanded squirrliness. I had a surgeon because of the gastric bypass surgery. So I made an appointment to see him. Sure it took a month or two, but that was gonna pass anyway. In the mean time I went to the ER three times and a specialist who said having my gallbladder removed was stupid. And another doctor that did an ultrasound and said all I had was asymptomatic gallstones. Meanwhile, I’m curled in a ball on the floor in the bathroom at work in pain (gallstone attacks — now we know). In FACT, that exact scenario was one of the ER visits. Work sent me to the ER.

Then I finally see my surgeon and he nearly kills me by poking under my ribs and is like holy fuck — we gotta do a liver biopsy on you ASAP. I agreed to LET HIM do that if he agreed to take my gallbladder out while I was under. Deal — that was Friday, Monday morning I had surgery. And what did they find while in surgery? Oh look, shes got internal gangrene. This gallbladder is literally dead and rotting. I bet if we pop that out she’ll feel better. THANKS GENIUSES. And do you know how risky having surgery with internal gangrene is? For real, I know someone that died from it (exploratory surgery). Because if the organ had ruptured during the surgery — well, now gangrene is all up in your abdominal cavity and you probably won’t be waking up. So even though I got what I want, fucker still almost killed me.

So I get it, don’t trust the doctors to know whats best. Get lots of opinions. But I also can’t listen these insane people.

Don’t come at me.

Also, don’t be insulted — not everyone in menopause and perimenopause will be insane. I understand. Please understand that I’m talking about people like MYSELF. I’m already on two antidepressants and an antianxiety. So anything that causes severe anxiety IS NOT GONNA BE OK.

My mom is dead, my sisters are bitches and all my friends are younger than me. So I HAVE NO ONE. And no one ever told me you’d go through some crazy 10-year reverse puberty BEFORE menopause. I’ve heard of menopause. I didn’t know it was this bad and I’ve never even heard of perimenopause! Fucking middle finger for living past child bearing age.

So that’s my rant. Bedet is fucking awesome though. Gonna review that IN DEPTH for my fellow hot sleepers.

Life: Purpose for the shit show?

Also, it occurs to me that that gastric bypass surgery has always been a big shame for me. Cause you know, I gained it all back. Then lost it with keto — gained like half of it back. So I’m still fat, basically. So it’s SO EMBARRASSING to say I had gastric bypass surgery. BUT BUT BUT

I just realized. Had I not had that, I wouldn’t have had contact and ability to get an appointment directly with surgeon. And had I not took it upon MYSELF (not a referral) to ask that surgeon to cut me open, I would have died whenever the gallbladder ruptured. He said possible two weeks.

So… maybe God had a reason there?

Interesting.

No, probably just still shit show.

Still, fuck hormones. Also, maybe if I didn’t have the surgery, the gallbladder wouldn’t have had issues. So who knows. Life is a shit show.

I’M SO OLD

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on I’M SO OLD

Sorry for radio silence. I’ve been real fucking depressed and anxious as hell. I believe that I mentioned my night time panic attacks previously? Well, here’s the jist: I’ve been waking up to panic attacks. Most I’ve been really proud of myself for getting under control. Counted breathing and smashing my face in the pillow to simulate a paper bag. Not that it’s as simple as that cause I start counting and I’m just counting cause I’m panicking and just speed running 1 2 3 4 5 6 1 2 3 4 5 6 likes it will summon a peacefulness fairy until I get it going right.

The other night I had a really terrible one. I couldn’t stay in bed. I was prancing around. No, I was not walking, it was more of a prance cause I was in PAIN. I bent myself over the bedroom couch (it’s MY nook) trying so hard to stretch my chest muscles open (can you get a charlie horse of the chest?). Then I was drenched in sweat and totally going to throw up. So I ran to the bathroom and hit the floor by the toilet.

The bathroom tiles were so refreshing and cool and I sat their by the toilet cooling off forever until the vomit feeling passed enough for me to leave.

Then I’ve been getting night sweats. Every. Single. Night. (The panic attacks are not nightly… As of now). Like husband is over there under the comforter burritoed in. Normally, I sleep with my beloved fuzzy blanket because it’s so light and airy. If I get too cool, I’ll pull the top sheet over it. But it doesn’t absorb sweat. So I switched to just the top sheet as needed. Keep in mind, I have a vornado fan on full blast, not 5 feet away, pointed at my chest/back. I’ve done the fan thing since Jack was a kitten. I started it to drown out the sound of him licking his ass while I tried to sleep. Kept it ever since. Though I have replaced it ONE TIME. I even travel with it sometimes when we don’t fly.

So now, every single night, I wake up drenched in sweat. If y’all have ever seen me workout or work in the yard, you know I sweat like a fountain. Once at CrossFit, one of the guys asked If I finally just dumped my nalogene over my head. I had not. So that’s how much sweat. Soaked through the sheets and you could ring out my pj pants. But there’s a fan blowing right on me and I’m soaked, so now I’m fucking FREEZING like I just got out of the pool on a cool cloudy day with high winds.

So I gotta take my pants off, but I can’t do anything about the sheet. One night I tried sleeping on a blanket so I could strip it off and then have a dry spot. I toss and turn too much so it got wadded up and I just had a wet blanket AND sheets.

So our yearly physical was coming up. I was positive I was hyperthyroid. My thyroid levels have NEVER been correct at my yearly. Anxiety, running hot? Hyperthyroid. gotta be. We fix it.

We go to the physical and I’m up first (husband and I do our blood draws and physicals together. We get twice as much time with the doctor!). It’s not my thyroid. My thyroid is perfect. I’m devastated. My doctor was like, yeah I was hoping too. How old are you? 41.

Perimenopause.

AHHHHHHHHH. WHYYYYYYYYYY?

You know the eye doctor said next time I’d probably have to get bifocals. And I’ve been balding for like 15 years and saw the dermatologist last month and he said this is as good as we can do. There’s not a higher dose to put me on. I just stay in this forever and be glad I’m not losing more hair.

Also, coincidentally, the other day I was reminiscing through old photos. Momma, Jack… I miss them. I was at 2019. Before COVID. Before mom died. Before the brain injury and 3 year trial. Before the huge weight gain of absolute despair at moms death. I looked good. I looked insanely younger. That was less than 5 years ago but I’ve aged terribly since then. I mean,sure, we’ve added boobs and a fucking awesome tattoo, but my god. Look at my face. Look at my eyes. I’m so old. And I read that you age faster after menopause. I’m fucked!

So that put me in a funk. I was feeling just so unattractive and fucked up. And now I’m approaching menopause!?

Jesus.

So I haven’t taken it well. I’m not ok with it. I’m hot. I’m not getting enough sleep and now there’s no magical pill to fix how fucking anxious I am! Like WHAT NOW, GOD? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

THIS IS SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT.

THAT’S BULLSHIT, RONNY!

So. That’s my headspace. I fell so ugly and old and anxious as fuck. Like did you know my job sucks? Did you know my husband’s job is even worse and he’s basically clinically depressed at this point and I can’t do shit about it? Did you know his job just announced there will three rounds of layoffs?

Did you know that people on Reddit are wrong and assholes and will down vote you to hell? And that the city what’s happening page (no rules) HAS RULES. Cause I was just defending someone else who posted a bad review complete with pictures. Then the manager made a new thread to attack her and call her a liar. Then we all started going woah woah woah, a lot of people had similar experiences and posted photos in her review too. And she started antagonizing the original girl who left the review and said she faked the picture and then blocked her so she couldn’t defend herself. So that girl started a thread to ask if she was blocked or the thread was gone. So then we all hopped on the new thread joking about the insanity of it. We were having a great time and being jovial. Talking about favorite places to eat, loving crazy people drama, etc. and there were like 3 people I was conversing with and having a hoot. Then they deleted our fun thread and banned the original reviewer from the group. ON THE NO RULES PAGE. All she did was post a review and then defend herself! Bitch managers personal attack of her is still up.

AND BOEING IS ASSASSINATING WHISTLEBLOWERS!

And then I had an anxiety attack and went to bed for more night sweats.

So that’s how it’s going.

The doctor recommended some supplements I forget the name of. Probably gonna buy a $600 bed jet. But I need to buy a new salt cell and pay for the pool opening and I wanted a fancy aidirandack chair for the deck.

IM NOT DOING OK.

Stress will kill you.

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment on Stress will kill you.

Last night, I woke up to a panic attack. You know you’re fucked up when you’re stressed out WHILE SLEEPING.

I have found a decent tool to help with panic attacks after a few decades. It’s the simple counting method. I chose 6. So beath in for a count of 6 and out for a count of 6. Repeat until not dead. Last night, I combined it with a variation on breathing into a paper bag.

I just looked it up, and breathing into a paper bag helps restore your CO2 balance which can get messed up when you hyperventilate and breath out too much. Interesting.

A panic attack mid sleep isn’t the best. You can’t lay still when you feel like you’re having a heart attack. For me, I always have to bear my chest because the first thing I feel is my chest muscles clamping down. At least you can lay in bed and cry for an anxiety attack. Husband asked why I did not wake him. You can’t hug pain out.

So I stretched sideways and upward to get my chest as wide as possible and buried my face deep in my memory foam pillow. Then I did the counted breathing. Well, it sounds like I handled it perfectly, but no. I tried the stretching and breathing and it wasn’t working. And I kept just counting but not breathing with the counting. Like just counting to 6 over and over again was a magic spell or something. Took a minute to get my wits about me and just smother myself until it eased up.

its nice that in my 40s, Ive finally found something that legitimately helps me in a panic attack.

Anxiety Attack: Give me hugs and I need a nap.

Panic attack: stretch, controlled counting breaths, maybe buy some paper bags.

Funny though, I got the counting technique from a Nintendo Switch YouTuber who struggles with anxiety. This is why we gotta share our experiences, y’all. 20 years of therapy and I’m using YouTube tips.

Anyway, Sherlock’s house is coming along!

Give it to me.

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on Give it to me.

I went to the Tattoo Expo with K and her boyfriend. I’ve never been to a tattoo expo. We saw some work by legit amazing artists. Then there was one guy who wanted us to get these tiny flash for $200. Are you kidding me? You want to do 10 minutes of line work for $200? NO.

So today ran from 2:00 – midnight. So I figured it would be better in the evening. So we met up at 6:30. And guess what? We missed the good stuff! WHAT THE FUCK? I’m legit going to complain to the organizers. We couldn’t find a schedule for this show anywhere. Big fancy website, no schedules. I even went the the circus people’s website (sword swallowers and stuff) to see if they had a schedule. Nope. Walk in and the first thing they give me is a lovely laminated schedule hour by hour for the whole weekend. Oh look, we missed the circus by an hour! DAMMIT. I’m legit pissed about this schedule thing.

Anyway, none of us were really shopping for tattoos. There were 200 tattooists there from all over. And they do tattoos right there. But I’ve got plenty of work to do on mine as it is. But I tell ya, I did see a lot of flash I liked.

There was a booth of a lady selling crystals — like carved crystals and jewelry and stuff. So K and I were looking at the necklaces. I asked her what was good for anxiety and she hands me a white one. Like the most boring of the stones. But she says it’s good for anxiety and getting rid of negative energy. She said it basically says fuck off to bad energy. Oooo. Give me. The card said it was good for sleep too. White Howlite.

According to some random internet search: “It can help reduce your levels of stress and anger, and dispel anger that is directed towards you from others. Howlite works by absorbing negative energy and filling the void with calming properties that help you feel at peace.”

Yeah, fuck the colors. Give me that.

At least it matches everything.