My synthetic opiate induced state of zen calm lasted all of 7 hours yesterday, right up to the point I opened an email that said things like REJECTED and SUBSTANDARD. This was on some of my music, too. Substandard? Suck my dick. Fucking computer wannabe fucking musicians don’t know a fucking studio recording when you fucking hear it! My bro had a tirade, pacing back and forth, vehemently defending me, my music, my creativity. Took HIM half an hour to calm down. And this was supposed to be the music platform I’d get stuff on and license out and make money. Well, I’ve worked with at least one French director and had my music accompany a film that’s made the rounds of film festivals. I doubt anyone that was part of rejecting my work has done that. Needless to say, they won’t be bothered with hearing another “substandard” piece of music from me. Fucking eejits.
Yesterday’s smoke count: unknown. Too high. Fuck off.
Calls from counseling center: zero.
And I’m right back there. Do I just fuck off on everything? I’ve got an out right here – no return phone call. If I leave it lie, no one will ever call me. I can go about my merry fucking way and smoke my fucking life to ash. All I gotta do is say nothing. How comfortable and easy that would be. Continue the way I have been. No, it’s not perfect but it’s got me this far. Fuck off, fuck you, and fuck them.
Just a wee bit agitated.
There’s no real danger of me fucking off on the counseling center. My brother has that bit between his teeth and he’s not letting go. If I don’t step up and say something, he will. Just this once I wish he wasn’t so fucking on the ball with his new medication.
I’ve walked most of my physical pain out of my back, which means I’m chewing on my mental pain again. Yep. Always a stick of Wrigley’s Pain gum in my mouth. Sometimes I wonder if I’m weirdly addicted to pain of one sort or another. Gotta have something in my life to fucking moan about. *sigh*
Did NOT get in the water yet. That’s coming up in 3.5 hours. By the time I got out of class and back home yesterday, the only swim option was at 6 p.m., and I just refuse to get in the pool that late in the day unless it’s been closed all day for cleaning. Hope some of this whatever-the-fuck-it-is will ease off me by doing laps.
My one bright spot yesterday was language class. Yes, I got all the verb tenses correct when I told the teacher my bro had a doctor’s appointment. 🙂 I even made the leap with a new verb from the ‘ik’ to the ‘jij’ form. Still suck at understanding other people, tho. Right at the end of break yesterday, some guy said something to me in Dutch. I was like, what?!? Got it translated into English and I still don’t understand; it was some Dutch phrase about clothes that an instructor said was an adage you’d say to someone if you broke up with them. HUH?!? Maybe he was just practicing it and I happened to be there. But then why did he deliberately turn to me and say it? I left clueless, and am still clueless as to why it was said to me.
Me so dumb.
Shake it off, Beeps. You’re learning, and able to use the words you do know. That was an advanced class; who the hell knows what he was on about? Do what you can. And now you know how all those Irish people felt when you kept saying things like ‘get the hell out of Dodge’ and they were clueless. Adages do not translate well.
Feeling fat from my b-day. Probably put on a pound from slightly larger meals and a bit of cake. Had to fight myself yesterday to lay out a smaller sized meal and not reach for more. Wonderful. Set me back a month or whatever between my b-day binge and not swimming due to my head cold. However much I balk at repetition in my life, when I deviate from the norm I generally don’t do well. Better for me to keep to my routine. It’s like oatmeal: it can get boring, but it’s sustaining. I do well under those limitations. Let them drop for a week and I’ve got some climbing to do to get back where I was.
*sigh* And just to make sure I was ever so slightly bummed out yesterday, someone has spooked George. Went to see him. He LOOKED like he was going to do his trick. I WANTED him to. But he didn’t. He shied away and kept his distance. I’ll have to see if I can earn his trust again. He still has that bright, curious eye – they didn’t take that away. I hope he can learn the difference between me and other humans. I don’t want him hurt in any manner, and I can tell something happened. But I do so love it when he grabs the bread out of my hand.
Well. Time to pull myself together for another fight. That’s what it feels like when I face the day. I fight to keep calm, to stay centered, to not give in to my anger. Any day I can do that is a victory. It may not look like much from the outside; some of those days I don’t even make my bed. But I’ll share with you the words of my great grandfather: If You Don’t Weaken. They have always haunted me. Sometimes it feels like he looked into a crystal ball and saw me in the future, struggling, so he put those words down specifically for me. I know he said them about his own life, his own struggles (again; family mental health issues?). But I take them as my own. Every day.