Sunday, February 21, 2016

Cars, Keys, & Cheese

Is your monthly car payment nearly half your rent? Do you enjoy parking wherever the fuck you want whenever the fuck you want? If you answered 'yes' to either of these questions, you are an asshole and probably live in my neighborhood.

I've mentioned before that I live in the 'hood (because it's hilarious) and one of the funnier things about this life is the ridiculousness of cars. People legit drive Jaguars and BMWs and all sorts of "luxury automobiles" and live in these poor people apartment complexes. What's more, they drive down the shitty roads with the potholes and concrete teeth sticking up everywhere. And they will ride your ass as you go 30 mph like they are prairie doggin' it hard. Good for you, hood rich. I hope you get a flat.

Other jerks like to park on the side of the main road or next to a bunch of parked cars as it suits them. I usually assume the car is broken down if it is along the main road but in the parking lot I stink eye them. You can't be bothered to pull into a spot while you run your quick errand? Seriously? You have to block people in so that you can go about your business because you are so damn important? I hope someone gets angry one day and backs into your dumbass as you are inside doing whatever is so necessary that you couldn't park like a decent human being.

My 'normal' keys are at that farm. I am in my apartment. I know, right? That is stupid. I was wearing this pink, pleather jacket with pockets when we went down and I put my keys in one of these to keep them safe. But then, whilst the Bat's mother and I were at Tractor Supply and Walmart, the Bat bought a little car to suit the interim before Monkey's insurance covers her totaled truck. He and his father got back to the farm before the moms and I and the Bat assured me he moved all our crap from the old car (his dad's as it happens) to the new one. Why I didn't check I will never know but when we got to his house, I couldn't find my keys and was looking everywhere when it came to me and I asked him about the pink jacket. He didn't know it was mine, he said. He'd been driving his dad's car for ages so why would his mother have this little jacket in the back, on top of other stuff no less? And I was wearing it on Friday!!! How did he not know it was mine? Fortunately, I have a spare apartment and car key and this does give me another excuse to not get my mail but he always makes fun of me for not being observant and now I have to open my car door with a key like a damn peasant. Harumph.

Honestly, I came up with the title for this blog post when the Bat was driving me to my place to grab my spare key and I noticed, again, all the asshole drivers in my area. But then I went to the store where I did, indeed, get some cheese and I do have a story so it fits.

So, because I'm a great big grown up who does things in good time rather than put them off and feel like an idiot come Monday, I went to the grocery store. I felt all gross and sweaty and dirty, which was awesome and a bonus to the task of grocery shopping on a Sunday. Even better, when I was ready to checkout and got to the self checkout kiosk thing that I like to use, the person waiting next to me was one of those who likes to be all up on you. Why do people do that? It's like they have zero sense of personal space and so you feel like you are an unwilling butt-buddy or something. And then I kept needing assistance but the cashier wasn't anywhere to be found and this lady, who only had one thing, refused to try another line and just sat on my ass the entire fucking time.

When I was done, I looked at her, ready to stink eye or say something but the bitch smiled at me and so I was thwarted.

Sigh, what a ridiculous day.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Or Maybe This is What Bipolar is Like

I've been in a funk for about a week now. I realized today that it is probably the come down from the mania I suffered and so I'm in the depressive stage. Is it awesome? Not in the least. But at least I recognize it. I recognize that I'm not upset about anything in particular, anything that has happened, anything outside of myself or, really inside myself. I'm just suffering from that horrible pull that drags you down at all times. All you want to do is lay in bed, regardless of whether or not you sleep, or make it to the end of your work day so you can cry on your way home even though you have nothing to cry about.

I knew I was in a funk last week but I didn't really connect things and realize I was in the depressive portion of manic-depression. Then again, I didn't realize I was in hypo-mania until that was over. Today, when I got home, I fed my cat and I did my yoga and I put my piggies on the bathroom floor and I just cried. I cried because I needed to. I kept saying, out loud, that it was OK and that this was going to pass and it wasn't going to be like before, back in the bad old days before I was treated. I just sat on the floor with my knees to my chest and did my best to get it out and reassure myself.

Knowing it would pass is such an amazing thing. I've spent the last week thinking and feeling things, negative things that I wasn't sure about. They mainly centered around the Bat. I didn't want him in my apartment and didn't look forward to seeing him on date night. His presence in my apartment made me claustrophobic and invaded and I just didn't like it. Keep in mind that I've spent ages campaigning for him to come to my place more often so I wouldn't have to go to his because it causes my commute to suck more than usual the next morning. But the Bat and I have gotten good about certain things in our relationship and one of them, for me, is not talking or communicating about something until I'm sure. Maybe it feels really intense right now but I know to give it a few days to make sure it is real. I've had a lot of thoughts about the Bat that I've kept quiet about because it didn't make sense in my own damn head. "I wish he would do..." and then "but he does ... so why do you need ...."

Not understanding what you are thinking or what you want or need is fucking shitty. The Bat and I decided some time ago that we would communicate certain things via email. If I hadn't had some wits about me, I would have been emailing him. But I knew I wasn't sure about how I felt or what I wanted from him or what my emotions really were/are. That is one of the most annoying things about this stupid disease. I can't articulate because I don't know and I don't know because I don't know if it is me or the neurotransmitters. I do feel I deserve Brownie points for finally being able to reign myself in and keeping myself from communicating because I think this is the first time I've had this level of self control.

I'm coming out of the depression, I think. I believe that because I can recognize it, it must mean I'm coming to the end of the episode. I texted my friend Tig about how I've been cycling and she was very nice but I have a feeling I did something to offend her. She was kind and said basically "if you'd crossed a line I would have let you know". She was kind enough to not tell me what it was I'd done if I had offended her which tells me she truly gets it. Not knowing how you feel, not knowing if it is real or not, it's so hard to explain. I feel like a crazy person just saying it. "I feel x but I don't know if I really feel x or if it is my disease." For those who care, people with bipolar II can often recognize a manic episode by realizing they are irritated with a person or a situation or both and then stand back and ask "am I really irritated? Let's see. What about this situation or this person's actions is irritating me" and they can realize, nope, it's just the neurotransmitters.

A peripheral aspect of cycling that really, really bothers me and embarrasses me is when others notice it. I apologized to the Bat once I'd come out of my mania and he said he'd been unhappy with some of my behavior and suspected it was my bipolar. Tig told me that she'd been wondering if I was OK because I'd seemed extremely anxious lately. I need to get better about hiding it on the rare occasions it happens, I really do. Not just because it is embarrassing but because I don't want to ruin my relationships with people.

For the record, I believe this was brought on by the stress of annual evaluations. I had a really good one but praise stresses me the fuck out for some reason. It's as though I feel I have to stay hyper vigilant and not only carry on but do better. I know that doesn't make sense but there you have it. What about bipolar or anxiety makes sense? And why the fuck is this shit around, just like poor eyesight? How is that something natural selection hasn't weeded out yet?