Then the Universe Laughed

You know the other day how I wrote about being proud of handling, coping, and duct taping. Well apparently the universe would have no such thing and set about to literally break me in half. It almost did. 

It's been 25 days since Jigger left. 25 days since I had a shoulder to cry on. A warm body beside me to let me know the world is not cold. A calming voice to soothe the raging volcano that simmers constantly inside of me. 25 days since I didn't shake. 25 days of uncertainty. 

It might not seem like much but it's a very long time. 

So the other day when I said I was coping. Barely but coping, the universe apparently having nothing better to do and no evil villain to chase set about making me eat a little crowpie. And yesterday I broke. 

During the last 25 days, I have managed a flooded house, having my two Sil's and their 4 children here, disconnected internet, a twice broken computer that died on the second go round, a computer that is my lifeline to the world, a computer that keeps me on the edge of sanity, a computer that is my freedom, and it died, but I didn't break. I duct taped instead. I configured my husband's computer to mine and used my husband's instead. I didn't break, but I was barely holding on. 

Then day before yesterday I went to get a drink of water. I was thirsty I mean after all it was 120 degrees. That makes me thirsty. Except the water wasn't cold. It was lukewarm. I passed it off on not being in the fridge long enough and went to bed. But when I woke up the water was completely hot and the fan was off. You remember the fan? The fan that sits behind the fridge to keep it cool so that our stuff is cold. Yeah that fan it was off. That's when I broke. 

32 days ago we spent a month's salary repairing that fridge. A month's salary that we didn't have. A month's salary that we got by selling things. Things like room air coolers that make the air feel slightly less like it came from hell. But fridges are more important than not sweating. 

So upon the fan off and the water hot, I broke. I had a full on panic attack.There were tears. Lots of tears. And snot. Lots of snot. I become a snot factory when I cry. It pisses me off. Which makes me cry more which makes more snot which pisses me off. I hate snot. 

I couldn't eat dinner. What were we going to do? I had no idea. I couldn't keep duct taping. I can't keep carrying burden after burden after burden. I lay in the pitch black dark in my room and cried and cursed. I swore at my BIL who was sitting on his ass watching TV who had done jack shit nothing to help. Who had done absolutely nothing for me in these 25 days. Whenever I needed anything I had to call a friend of my husband's. He's a little guy. Younger than my BIL by about 4-5 yrs. Not even 21 yet. Not family. Nothing. Just a friend who worships my husband. Whatever I needed, big or small. One text to him and he was at my door within 15 mins. No grudges. No complaints. Happy that he could do something for me and all the while my BIL sat, watching TV, stomach full while mine rumbled. Not once did it cross his mind that he needed to get the fuck up and do SOMETHING. Then I cried some more and made some more snot. 

After about 8 hrs of snot making, I got up off of the floor, sent a few emails. Pretended I was chicken little and "the sky was falling". Made more snot. Then slowly I took out my duct tape and began to work. I pieced this and poked that. A plan slowly began rolling in my brain. A small plan. Was it possible? Maybe. Dunno. WTF let's try it and see.

Yep, that worked. Let's see if this piece fits here. No not really but that one does. More duct tape less snot. After about 5 hrs, I had a plan. It wasn't perfect but it would work. I could get the fridge fixed without having to sell my lifeline to the world. Without having to surrender my freedom. I felt better. Calmer. 

Then the universe threw me a curveball because fucking hell that is what the universe does. I went to give my MIL the monthly house allowance except I only gave her half. I told her that I would fix my computer and fridge and depending on how much I had left next week I would give her some more. 

She didn't complain. She was helpful. And pissed. Pissed at my BIL who lay sleeping a few feet away. Pissed that prices of everything have doubled AGAIN from last month. Pissed that only I seem to try and her son who is responsible sits there and does fuck all. I was shocked, but decided to see how far I could go with this. 

She wanted him to bring the fridge repairman. You know the one we paid 32 days ago a month's salary. She said she wasn't paying him a damn dime. He would fix it but she couldn't get him to come because my BIL wouldn't get off his ass. She asked me to ask my lil guy if he would bring the fridge repairman. It was a bit of abuse of my position but fuck I needed a drink of something cooler than brimstone so I agreed to the evil deed. A few hours later I msged him, 15 mins he was at my door. Fridge was duct taped. 

I sit here writing this post with a cold glass of water sweating by my side. It's not permanently fixed but when my husband comes he can make the final adjustments. It didn't cost me a month's salary. I still have both my kidneys. At least until the next crisis then who knows.

How much do you think I could get on craigslist for a kidney? I need to keep my options open.

Culmination of all Things Catastrophic

So last night as I lay on the floor staring at the ceiling through the pitch black darkness, I had an epiphany. I was thinking about the events of this week. All that happened. All that I had managed on my own. All that could have gone wrong but didn't. What may still be wrong but I am not sure of. I thought that I should write this all down each week as a way of seeing what I did right or wrong. What I could have done better or just remember what I did good. Then it hit me. Fucktard you have a blog. Oh yea I do. So I thought on Sundays I would sort of do a weekly wrap up. I don't necessarily blog about some things that are too personal or that are identity revealing but on Sundays I could still sort of throw hints and innuendos in there and it would be a way for me to look over the week, see where I still need to improve, where I am doing ok with, and sort of chart my progress through the insanity.

So this marks the first week of wrapping the crazy in pretty paper and pretending it's not dogshit. Let's see what happens:

I had a lot of issues this week. My computer decided to go batshit crazy and nearly gave me a heart attack. I am proud of myself for the way I handled it. Ordinarily I get all chicken little "the sky is falling let's head for the hills" when things go wrong. Regardless of how small or fixable things are they seem world ending to me. It's as if my world has shattered into a million pieces and I don't know how to put them back together again.

However this week, I managed to duct tape things back together. I was offered an amazing gift of friendship. Which is even more shocking to me than my not falling apart this week when everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I am truly amazed by the kindness of strangers. My view of people is very negative. I am always on the look out. Waiting for them to attack me, waiting for them to turn on me, because it always happens, but the people I have met through blogging have reminded me while I have made bad choices in the people I had around me, that not everyone is an asswipe. There are good people out there. People who would move mountains to help you, who do so much just by listening. People who are truly human.

What else happened this week? I got quite a bit of work done on my project. I am truly excited about this project. It is simply amazing. I have learned so much. I always do whenever I do these projects. I learn things that I didn't even know existed. Things I didn't even know I didn't know. It just amazes me at how much there is out there. How much we have to learn and how if we learned just a little bit then we truly could do so much more than we are doing now.

So all in all it's been a pretty good week especially compared to the week before. I was told to focus and I did. I have to remember that I need an extreme amount of focus, planning, and scheduling to keep my skin from wanting to crawl off. My gran use to say "idle hands are the devil's work" and for me an idle mind sends me to that place of unease. That place where I want to go forward in a 1000 different directions all at once but I don't want to move. I don't like that place. I do stupid things when I am in that place, but focus keeping my mind focused on one particular thing keeps me at least eased enough that I don't feel like peeling my skin off and sowing it together so that it fits better.

That's about it. It's all I remember anyways but that's not saying much. There are days I barely remember my own name. So I shall leave you with this little diddy:

Making My Skin Suit Fit

As my ever so lovely Sam pointed out. I need to make my skin suit fit better because right now it's itchy and crawly and I feel like I have a wedgie and basically am just uncomfortable. One thing that I have basically stopped since I got married is dance. I am extremely self concious about any type of exercise in front of people. 

Even in front of my husband. 

So while I do yoga (when he's sleeping), I have sort of slacked off the last few months. I haven't been doing yoga or any other exercise for that matter and I really think that is part of the reason I am just raging. 

Whenever I exercise it works out some of the pent up energy. It relaxes me. It helps my skin suit fit better and I think I need to somehow figure out how to make exercise/dance/yoga part of my daily routine again. 

When I lived alone I use to dance for about two hours a day so from that to nothing is a major change. One my body and mind are apparently revolting against. I exercised/danced today for about 45 mins.

Afterwards I was drenched in sweat but I felt the most peaceful and calm that I have felt in several weeks. So I am definitely going to figure out how to make this part of my daily routine. The difficult part will be continuing it once Jigger comes home.

R.A.G.E. Against the Machine

Lately I have been filled with rage. Frustration. Anger. I just want to DO something. I feel like I am stuck in a hole that I cannot get out of and it makes me angry. I want to scream, shout, kick, punch, something. Anything. 

Anyone. 

I am angry at everyone and no one. I have so many things I want to blog about but I don' t because the frustration inside of me is so overpowering. It is all I can seem to talk about these days. 

I feel so emotionally lost. I feel that I should be doing something but have no clue what that something is. 

I just feel R.A.G.E. 

I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to be consumed by this. It blinds me to everything around me. It keeps me from moving forward, but no matter what I do I cannot get rid of this frustration. It just keeps growing. 

Festering. 

Every day I feel like I lose a part of myself to it. Every day I feel like another piece of me disappears.