On The Same Page
So I've been doing so well even my therapist commented on it.
"I'm waiting for the 'whoomp'," she said. "You know, where something goes 'whoomp' and everything smashes apart." I started to laugh.
"That's what I've been telling you I've been waiting for these past sessions!"
Seriously, though, things are going so swimmingly well for a bit I was seriously looking to see if I was going to be hit by a falling piano. Only it just keeps dancing along. I got my cool stuff from the auction, the ring is so awesome I want to wear it (despite it being over a thousand years old). My SSDI application has been received and I should know their decision with 120 days. I'm excited about these parties; hell I'm excited about my birthday, which is a story in its own right.
For the early part of my life, I tried to kill myself every birthday. It was a thing. I just couldn't face the idea of a whole 'nother year'. Later, it was a day of contemplation. I would sit alone, turn off my phone, and try to gather within myself the strength to keep fighting another year. Last year's birthday was possibly the worst I'd ever had. Trouble, knowing all this history, had still managed to get into a fight with me and refused to speak to me. Instead of spending the whole birthday gathering my resolve, I spent it curled in bed refusing to move and crying continuously, with AgtOrange doing his best to make sure I was okay while not being in my space so I had room to be depressed. And after that, it just didn't seem worth the bother to keep trying so damn hard for myself. I'd try for AgtOrange, and I'd try for Trouble, but left to my own devices I would've just stopped breathing.
This will be my second ever birthday party. I had one at a bar once thrown by my AdoptedMom. It went okay but I couldn't relax really, I didn't know how to be the recipient of a cake or at that end of things. For that matter, I bought the cake and wouldn't sit down to let other people decorate. I mean, growing up, if I wanted a birthday cake (and I always did) the ritual was usually that I baked it myself on my birthday. Dad would buy me the cake mix. But he said candles were a waste, so I'd take toothpicks and stick them in the frosting with dabs of red icing on the tops. Then I would make a wish, take out the toothpicks, cut myself a slice of cake, and eat maybe half of it. The rest of the cake would sit on the counter until it molded and got thrown out. Usually Dad would give me some money. Yay me happy fucking birthday.
And the year before then I left the country for the first time, because AgtOrange's friend is really stellar at throwing parties and so we went to the Dominican Republic (where his friend is from) in the hopes I could have a really stellar party. Only his friend got the flu so we mostly stayed in the hotel avoiding the heat. On my actual birthday we went to a fabulous club on the recommendation of his friend, but I was in too much pain and too tired. It was the night before my birthday, and I barely made it to past midnight and then we went back to the hotel so I could take off my uncomfortable shoes and fall apart.
But this year is different. Never mind that I'm getting fat and I'm medicated to the gills. That's probably part of it. I've never been HAPPY before, medication has never worked before, so even though my doctor is really concerned about what else it's doing, I'm totally working with this.
Medication can work, but it make take years of trying so don't give up. That I can attest to. Give each one about two or three months, and if you don't feel better or the side effects aren't starting to let up (there are ALWAYS side effects) then move on. And I don't have to worry about pain this year, because that's what painkillers are for. Yes, I do know I'm going to overextend myself drastically at this party, and it will probably take me a week to recover. So what. I'm using the DC Fetish Ball as my party so I only have to throw the bits surrounding it. I really, really hope some people crash over; it's been so long since I breakfasted as a group with my friends (which only happens when you've been partying the night before together). And yes, technically I'm baking my own cake, trying to tempt my buddy DarkElectric with a chocolate flourless concoction (he can't have gluten).
You'd almost think I was manic but I'm not. Yes, I'm a bit excited, but even when I'm calm I'm still happy. And I stopped worrying about a direct meteorite strike to the head after something AgtOrange said to me.
Me: Every time my life starts going right, something horrible happens. And things are going so well, I just know something really bad is about to occur.
AgtOrange: Well, yes, of course something really bad is going to happen. And then something really good is going to happen. And then something else bad, and then something else good.
Me: Wha??
And then he explained it like, if everything is going well, the only thing you're going to notice is when it sours. Just like when your life is a pit, it just goes on and on until suddenly something wonderful and miraculous-seeming happens. But it's basically all an up-and-down cycle that doesn't really change. Or at least, that's how I understood it, and it makes total sense.
So I just stopped worried about 'if' something bad was going to happen, because I already know it will. But just because it will, doesn't mean it's the end of everything. Really, it's just the beginning.
And now it's past time for meds and bed, where I get to snuggle up to someone I love. Yay me.
May you all be blessed with a cuddle partner all the days of your lives.
"I'm waiting for the 'whoomp'," she said. "You know, where something goes 'whoomp' and everything smashes apart." I started to laugh.
"That's what I've been telling you I've been waiting for these past sessions!"
Seriously, though, things are going so swimmingly well for a bit I was seriously looking to see if I was going to be hit by a falling piano. Only it just keeps dancing along. I got my cool stuff from the auction, the ring is so awesome I want to wear it (despite it being over a thousand years old). My SSDI application has been received and I should know their decision with 120 days. I'm excited about these parties; hell I'm excited about my birthday, which is a story in its own right.
For the early part of my life, I tried to kill myself every birthday. It was a thing. I just couldn't face the idea of a whole 'nother year'. Later, it was a day of contemplation. I would sit alone, turn off my phone, and try to gather within myself the strength to keep fighting another year. Last year's birthday was possibly the worst I'd ever had. Trouble, knowing all this history, had still managed to get into a fight with me and refused to speak to me. Instead of spending the whole birthday gathering my resolve, I spent it curled in bed refusing to move and crying continuously, with AgtOrange doing his best to make sure I was okay while not being in my space so I had room to be depressed. And after that, it just didn't seem worth the bother to keep trying so damn hard for myself. I'd try for AgtOrange, and I'd try for Trouble, but left to my own devices I would've just stopped breathing.
This will be my second ever birthday party. I had one at a bar once thrown by my AdoptedMom. It went okay but I couldn't relax really, I didn't know how to be the recipient of a cake or at that end of things. For that matter, I bought the cake and wouldn't sit down to let other people decorate. I mean, growing up, if I wanted a birthday cake (and I always did) the ritual was usually that I baked it myself on my birthday. Dad would buy me the cake mix. But he said candles were a waste, so I'd take toothpicks and stick them in the frosting with dabs of red icing on the tops. Then I would make a wish, take out the toothpicks, cut myself a slice of cake, and eat maybe half of it. The rest of the cake would sit on the counter until it molded and got thrown out. Usually Dad would give me some money. Yay me happy fucking birthday.
And the year before then I left the country for the first time, because AgtOrange's friend is really stellar at throwing parties and so we went to the Dominican Republic (where his friend is from) in the hopes I could have a really stellar party. Only his friend got the flu so we mostly stayed in the hotel avoiding the heat. On my actual birthday we went to a fabulous club on the recommendation of his friend, but I was in too much pain and too tired. It was the night before my birthday, and I barely made it to past midnight and then we went back to the hotel so I could take off my uncomfortable shoes and fall apart.
But this year is different. Never mind that I'm getting fat and I'm medicated to the gills. That's probably part of it. I've never been HAPPY before, medication has never worked before, so even though my doctor is really concerned about what else it's doing, I'm totally working with this.
Medication can work, but it make take years of trying so don't give up. That I can attest to. Give each one about two or three months, and if you don't feel better or the side effects aren't starting to let up (there are ALWAYS side effects) then move on. And I don't have to worry about pain this year, because that's what painkillers are for. Yes, I do know I'm going to overextend myself drastically at this party, and it will probably take me a week to recover. So what. I'm using the DC Fetish Ball as my party so I only have to throw the bits surrounding it. I really, really hope some people crash over; it's been so long since I breakfasted as a group with my friends (which only happens when you've been partying the night before together). And yes, technically I'm baking my own cake, trying to tempt my buddy DarkElectric with a chocolate flourless concoction (he can't have gluten).
You'd almost think I was manic but I'm not. Yes, I'm a bit excited, but even when I'm calm I'm still happy. And I stopped worrying about a direct meteorite strike to the head after something AgtOrange said to me.
Me: Every time my life starts going right, something horrible happens. And things are going so well, I just know something really bad is about to occur.
AgtOrange: Well, yes, of course something really bad is going to happen. And then something really good is going to happen. And then something else bad, and then something else good.
Me: Wha??
And then he explained it like, if everything is going well, the only thing you're going to notice is when it sours. Just like when your life is a pit, it just goes on and on until suddenly something wonderful and miraculous-seeming happens. But it's basically all an up-and-down cycle that doesn't really change. Or at least, that's how I understood it, and it makes total sense.
So I just stopped worried about 'if' something bad was going to happen, because I already know it will. But just because it will, doesn't mean it's the end of everything. Really, it's just the beginning.
And now it's past time for meds and bed, where I get to snuggle up to someone I love. Yay me.
May you all be blessed with a cuddle partner all the days of your lives.