I Wish I Wasn’t Me

**(NOTE: This was written many years ago, maybe 15-20.)

I remember when I used to be much more ignorant about the world, yet I was a much happier person because of it. I used to think life was simple and easy going. I used to think that life was all about having a job, getting married, and having kids. I used to have such an innocent outlook on things. Since, I’ve learned differently and my soul has been tainted with the negative side of life… a side that has made me wish I were someone else.

If what I don’t know doesn’t hurt me, then I’d live a life of bliss. Unfortunately, I think that knowing too much has done more harm than good. If I weren’t so good at English, then I wouldn’t care to notice everyone else’s horrible grammar and spelling. If hadn’t chosen an artistic field, then I wouldn’t be scrutinizing every little detail about others, as artists tend to do. If I hadn’t been born with the innate tendency to pick up on people, then I’d have no reason to worry about being a private investigator. If I’d chosen to be a housewife instead of having a career, then I wouldn’t be sitting here worrying about everything else. If I’d chosen to stay in a bad relationship rather than be single, then why do I feel I’d be better off with someone who doesn’t love me than no one at all? Would I be one of those wives that turn the blind eye on a cheating husband, or would I be too stupid to know any better?

If I were a stupid person, I’d be happy as hell because I wouldn’t know any better. There are enough stupid people around so I’d at least fit in with their group. At least stupid people feel loved – even when they’re not.

I get told often that I’m “beautiful”, “gorgeous”, “sexy”, etc… but I don’t feel it. How can people who say these things turn right around and say things that are equally as insulting and degrading, and then expect me to believe it? Or these same people’s actions prove they’re just liars. How can someone who doesn’t feel loved feel any of those good things at all?

If I wasn’t me, then would I be happier?

Depression and B-12 Deficiency

The other day when I posted this blog about how horrible I was feeling, I felt slightly better after writing it. However, slightly isn’t enough to get out of a deep, dark funk. That same day, I had also taken my monthly B-12 shot, which usually helps with energy if nothing more, but it takes a good day or so to really be felt in my system.

It’s abnormal for me to walk around crying and unable to function or cope with everyday life, and it happens suddenly and spirals out of control. I am extremely self-aware of how my body feels and how my mind is affected. I feel dazed, unable to concentrate, extremely depressed and anxious, and extremely hopeless in a tunnel without any light. It’s a terrible way to feel. This is what depression feels like to me.

On August 26, I had my pre-op bloodwork done, and some things came back as “low”. I had to google the jargon to figure out what it meant, and it seems that both lack of iron (I have anemia) and B-12 are the culprits here. I am convinced that the lack of B-12 is why my depression gets really bad like it did the other day, because I can easily control the iron deficiency with a pill. These were my results:

After doing some research and also being extremely aware of my body and the things it does, I am convinced that much of my depression is due to a B-12 deficiency. Two days after taking my shot, I felt like a different person – like a cloud has lifted. Today, I feel even better. But this is only temporary, because my body tends to use the B-12 quickly.

Unfortunately, I am only prescribed one shot of B-12 a month, and even though I take oral B-12 as well, it’s not enough. I eat enough foods with B-12 also, so for whatever reason, my body just doesn’t keep this supplement. I contacted my doctor about the bloodwork and my concerns, but I have yet to hear back from her. It’s been 3 days, which I feel is too long to wait when I’m feeling helpless. The last time I told my doctor I think I need the shots more often, she said my bloodwork was fine. Well, duh, it’s fine right after I take the shot up until about 2-3 weeks later. By the third week, I’m low again, which is when they should be testing me. I mean, to me, it’s just common fucking sense!

The doctor also told me this – which I don’t believe, and think she confused B-12 with iron supplements – that too much B-12 isn’t good for me. Total b.s.! I have researched very reputable references that say the complete opposite. Yes, too much iron can harm you, but not B-12.

And here’s another issue – I email the doctor, because it’s usually easier to communicate, but it’s the nurse that generally answers. There have been times the nurse has confused communication to the point that I’ve given up going back and forth. Today I emailed again about my concern, since I hadn’t heard from my doctor. The nurse answers me and asks where I’m getting the B-12 injections, because my records are showing it’s a provider outside the VA healthcare system. WHAT!!!???!!!

OMFG, are you kidding me!! I do not have a provider outside the VA, because if I did, I wouldn’t be emailing about a fucking vitamin that I need to function; I’d be contacting a doctor that wouldn’t think twice about giving me a prescription for it. Jesus Christ! I’m not asking for pain medicine; I’m asking for a harmless supplement so I don’t kill myself! Is this why so many veterans don’t use their medical benefits, and is this why so many veterans are committing suicide? It’s simple shit like this that can drive a person absolutely batshit crazy.

This time I cannot give up. This is my mental health we’re talking about here, and if I need an extra shot a month, then I should get it. I see that I can get it online cheaper for a pet than for a human, even though it’s the same damn thing, and I can get it without a prescription. More total b.s., but I may have to do just that. It shouldn’t be this difficult to solve a simple solution!

About to Lose My Mind – Depression, Anxiety, and I hate everything

I’m about to lose my fucking mind. Not joking. The amount of stress I’m feeling today and prior to today is really wearing on me.

This morning I spent 3 1/2 hours trying to fix things that shouldn’t be broken, things that I didn’t break, instead of doing something that makes me feel better. And this is the type of shit I seem to be dealing with on a weekly basis, because no one seems to know how to do their jobs.

I had a counseling appointment scheduled for this afternoon at the VA, but I realized that I hadn’t received the ten reminders I normally get when I have an appointment. Good thing I checked this morning, because I would have driven the 30 miles one way to get there only to find out someone canceled ALL of my upcoming counseling appointments. This is AFTER waiting for 3 months to see my counselor, because she is so booked. Second motherfucking time this has happened, and for someone with anxiety, depression, and PTSD, this is NOT a good thing.

Not only did I have to wait nearly three months for this counseling appointment, I had to reschedule another very important appointment (they put at the exact same time) that I’ve been waiting 19 years for. Yes, you read that right. 19 years! I have been dicked around for more than 20 years with the VA, and they still can’t get it right.

I have surgery in 10 days. I’m not nervous about it; I just want it overwith so I can have my physical life back. And because of the surgery, it’s getting more difficult to reschedule all of the shit that someone else fucked up. I will be out of commission for two months, so not only am I currently broke, I am super stressed about how I’m going to make it after surgery. Maybe I will end up living in my car after all.

Yesterday was a bad day. I’ve been getting migraines (sinus? Who knows?) a lot lately. I’m getting one now. Yesterday I had a migraine. I decided maybe a walk on the beach would do me good. So I went and didn’t stay long. I didn’t realize the heat index was 106, so on top of being overly hot, it was crowded, and I didn’t feel like being around people. Then I went home and cried for the rest of the afternoon.

I don’t trust people, and I’m really beginning to hate people, and I’m becoming more and more introverted. I don’t normally feel hatred towards anyone, but for whatever reason, ever since dating Toe Ring and recently seeing OC around town, I’m feeling hatred towards people (including those two). I feel like the only way to get by in this world is to be a fucking asshole, and I hate fucking assholes. It seems like the only way to be successful is to be one. I hate this world.

I don’t fit in anywhere, and I realize I never have, so it’s hard to like anyone when I don’t trust them. I don’t even feel like I have real friends anymore. I have friends that are my friends when they are bored and no one else is there to entertain them, or they’re my friends when they need something. Other than that, I’m on my own.

I haven’t been leaving the house much unless I have to. For the most part, I haven’t felt like being around people, because they annoy the shit out of me and give me anxiety. I don’t want to be out in public. I haven’t been doing any of the normal things I usually do, because I haven’t felt like it. Maybe it’s the excruciating Florida heat. Maybe it’s the depression. And it seems when I do feel like doing anything, something comes along and fucks it all up, so why bother?

Being broke doesn’t help, because I need to save gas. I need my car fixed. I really need a chiropractor (probably why I have migraines). I am trying to decide to either get rid of internet or my phone so I have some grocery money, but I need to have both to get things done. It’s a no-win situation. Some of the jobs I’ve been doing are hit or miss, unpredictable, and often unreliable. I guess this is the way it is with jobs nowadays. It’s bullshit, if you ask me.

A few weeks ago, I had to put food back at the grocery store, because I needed maxi pads, because I wouldn’t stop bleeding. How unfair is it that women have to choose between food and pads, but men don’t? I hate being a woman. Men are clueless about the shit we have to deal with. It must be nice to be clueless. Maybe that’s the key to happiness.

Sometimes I feel like the Universe hates me. That I don’t belong here. That it’s trying to tell me to get the fuck out of it. That everything that sucks is a reminder that I’m just a middle-aged loser with nothing to look forward to… whose dreams are dead and bloated.

I fucking hate life right now.

Shopping at Walmart May Require Mental Health Therapy

I’m positive I don’t stand alone when it comes to what I think about Walmart. It seems like everyone I know feels the same about the place. It amazes me that a place can be so shitty and still rake in billions a year.

I was trying to save time and get everything in one place, because I had to be somewhere else, so I went to Walmart to return something. Of course there’s a line a half mile long in the middle of the day, because no one is ever really working there.

So I raced around to get some of the things I needed, like cat food. Should have been a simple task, right? Not at Walmart! The cat food I needed was stuffed way in the back of the shelf, but too deep for me to reach it. Of course no one was around, and I ended up having to go to the shelf under it and literally crawl under/into the shelf and reach up to push it so that I could reach it. They were also out of collars and have been for weeks now.

Then I looked for olive oil. The regular type I use for cooking was out – of course – and they only had EVOO left. Shelves are nearly empty! (Again, how does this place function??)

I needed to get flash drives, but they only had them in single packs, which were more expensive. I’ve bought them before in multiple packs before, so I asked the employee. The guy  “Ryan” told me I probably bought them at Staples. Say what??

I told him I don’t shop at Staples. Then he said I might have got them on Amazon.

I couldn’t believe my ears.

I said, “I think I know the difference between buying something at Walmart, driving 20 miles to Staples, or shopping online! I was IN the store!” – and I pointed “right there” to where I saw them last.

Then he said, “Well maybe you don’t remember.”

Oh. My. God.

I was in NO mood to deal with this idiot’s shit. I went OFF on him and said, “Maybe you don’t know how to do your shitty job, Ryan!” – and I threw everything down and walked out.

No wonder Walmart is offering mental health therapy in their store!

Women’s jobs aren’t worthless, dude

How to treat a working woman

(NOTE: This was written several years ago when I was married. I thought it would be fun to share.)

I had a conversation the other day with a friend. We discussed why women’s work is viewed as worthless, even though most of the time we are the spine of a man’s success. This is what she had to say:

“Many men have a problem with ‘unpaid’ work but yeah, its fucking WORK regardless. Women have always worked more than men, we put in countless hours of unpaid contribution to make the world go round. They always see the dollar signs first.

Men’s values are reflected in money… their big homes, big expensive cars, things that are reflective, physical proof of their hard work. It’s like they always have to have some phallic hard-on symbol to show off as proof of their worth. Women, our rewards come from within. Don’t ya think?”

Bravo, friend, bravo!

Who determines our worth?

How it feels to be a wife

(NOTE: This and several upcoming posts were written several years ago when I was married. I thought it would be fun to share them.)

I suppose enough criticism from everyone in your environment can help you to determine whether or not you’re a worthless wife. Your family, your kids, your significant other, and even your neighbors can all contribute to that cause. After all, wives should be perfect in every way, 24/7, in sickness and in health, and do it with a smile on their faces.

“Alex’s mom is cool. She looks like a movie star and lets us stay up as late as we want,” the kids might say.

Nice. Alex’s mom is also a two-bit whore who screws her husband’s best friend.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” the husband might say. “I’m hungry.”

Dinner? It’s only one in the afternoon. I’m still digesting lunch.

“You should be helping your husband mow the lawn,” the neighbor might say.

Sure thing. I’ll get out my razor and make a landing strip as soon as he picks his dirty clothes up off of the bathroom floor.

“You two should plan sex at least two or three times a week. You need to keep your husband happy,” the mother might say.

Plan sex? Oh how romantic! Is that why you’re such a bitch after 3 “happy” marriages?

I’ll shut up now. After all, isn’t that what women are supposed to do?

Does working from home deem women worthless?

You can relax if you have a man’s job.

(NOTE: This and several upcoming posts were written several years ago when I was married. I thought it would be fun to share them.)

I have worked just about every type of job under the sun. I have been my own boss and run my own home businesses off and on over the years, sometimes making just as much or more as I would if I left the house and drove to an office. Like anyone who has had their own business, I am fully aware of how long it takes to establish oneself. However, those who depend on weekly paychecks do not. For some reason, people are inclined to think that working from home is a worthless job. Especially if you’re a woman.

When I first started my latest business three years ago, I was told by my mother that I needed to find a job in order to help my husband (he makes a decent income but likes to spend it all at once). This was coming from a woman who was unemployed throughout most of my childhood because she gave up her career in medicine for a jealous alcoholic, and then later settled to work at a retail store when she finally decided she wanted to get out of the house.

The other day I was told by my significant other that I don’t work a real job because:

1. I don’t have to leave the house from 8am-5pm each day.
2. My income is irregular, and it’s not a “real” paycheck.
3. I can do laundry at the same time I am working.
4. Because of all of the above, I am considered “unemployed”.

This became a very heated topic. Since my home-based business has provided our family with tax write-offs, flexibility for me to be a wife and mother as needed, and “fun” income, I decided to be the worthless woman he thinks I am. I closed my business. Now he will see what me being unemployed really means, especially when tax time rolls around in six months… and the laundry isn’t clean… and the dishes aren’t clean… and the house is a mess…

And now I will take MY vacation.