Oasis – Stop Crying Your Heart Out

slept: 9 am to 1:50 pm

It’s like this. The golden Autumn sunbeams light the dining room inviting anyone to go out and enjoy a crisp afternoon of warmth laced with coolness and I’m sitting staring at the pattern that the beams make.

I just watched Butterfly Effect. A movie I enjoy but try not to watch too much. Normally there’s no regrets. My mind is like a monkey on crack riding a unicycle but it only goes forward not back. And at the end Stop Crying Your Heart Out plays and my chest seizes. It’s something that happens a lot lately. I think since my parens died last year my brain has allowed me to feel pain. Being numb all these years. Wait I haven’t. My brain has allowed me massive anger attacks.

I’m horrified that sometime one of my siblings will come into the house and catch me, large gulping sobs, barely able to breathe, the accumulation of years and experiences and me allowing myself to finally release the tears. My mind betties kme. “Such a child” like that’s a crime. Like I’m being selfish. I don’t understand even though I do. She was the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral. And the last hurdle to overcome my childhood.

K is in a whirl. I sat back, watched him stutter catch himself and tell me he’s dealing with a couple of issues: his buddy and his addiction problems and girlfriend’s relationship, changing to another hospital for work, (the governor is coming to Zambrano to see where she can make cuts that money hungry slut. I hope she gets put in a mental hospital for a few years. See how “well stocked and put out” they are,) Sprint screwed up his bill, and I can tell his anxiety is being squeezed.

I have a refrigerator full of food but it stares back at me blankly. It appears to have been filled by a tribe of trolls that eat garbage. I have no clue what to make. I’ve been preparing items for mental breakdown. Certain food items that can be made into simple meals so I can feed myself easily once my mind has broken down completely. Unfortunately breakdown is not a linear or sequential arrangement. My brain is tricky like that. Sometimes I blink out for a few days and operate on automatic like I am just fine and living on a parallel plane. Then I wake up one day and I know I missed something am missing something really important. I have to wade through piles of papers to see if it’s an appointment or a piece of important mail I was suppose to answer ASAP and read through intending to but didn’t.

I buy in bulk: cheeses, pasta, certain kinds of canned goods, frozen vegetables, boneless skinless chicken breasts and ground beef. Things that are easy to prepare and divide them into individual packages. At my best I can mix something up and digest it. At my worst I’ll take out a can and eat from it or heat up some kind of vegetable that’s frozen so I don’t feel my stomach cringe and grumble. When I’m doing well I get a hankering for something specific and happily whip it up. At my worst I look at the food and it doesn’t even seem like it could vaguely be edible. I can wait 8 hours trying to figure out if I can eat something. It can be frustrating.

I walk to and from the kitchen occasionally exciting the cats. Two of them have distinctive meowing voices. In my past our cats were very silent. I’m not used to how loud these two formerly feral black cats are. It gets annoying. I sometimes kick them in their little @sses inadvertently when they get underfoot. They keep me company and Skipper is napping on the cabinet next to this desk. I need to eat dinner. I fed the cats at 5. I am so hungry I don’t know what to do.

Maybe sit down in the recliner, put on the boob tube, let the cats climb on top of me and pass out in a warm autumn pile. I’ll have to make something eventually. I’m trying hrd to only eat out once a week. Lately it’s not been working. There’s no delivery except for 2 pizza places down here in this seasonal town. That’s what you get for living near the ocean. All view, not conveniences. Well except for Cumbies. Even then they’re not open 24 hours.