The Post-Meltdown Journaling

Perhaps it was a Perfect Storm of too much bullshit coinciding at the same time. Perhaps. I cannot blame it on just one thing, but an amalgamation of shit. The meltdown was spectacular and has been an act which had been brewing for quite some time.

Before I go into the breakdown, perhaps detailed in a subsequent blog post to this one. it's best to inventory what no doubt contributed to the breakdown. In no particular order, other than "stream of consciousness," which is pretty much word vomit as it courses its way from the frontal lobe, vomitting forth out my fingertips):

• Drama with my mother. Granted at the moment, we're coasting along as she's in a nursing facility--though doubtful she'll ever go home again. She's been there a full month and is still unable to stand or walk on her own. However, from January until current writing (close to three months) it's been a non-stop fuckfest of resentment, drama, anger, etc. She's barely civil when I call, and isn't interested in anything going on with me, and the nastiness makes me less inclined to make that thankless trip to Jersey to visit--which I was planning on doing this weekend, then started to feel shitty, back achey, and thought hey she wasn't even really pleasant to me on the phone, fuck it, maybe NEXT weekend, perhaps;
• The weather. It's been a particularly snowy winter, which has kept me indoors, I haven't done my daily constitutional as a result and have seen a 7 lb uptick in the last month alone--though a good lot of that is no doubt related to the Cymbalta I was on.
• I was on Cymbalta for about a month, and over the last two weeks had gradually weaned myself off it. Today is effectively day six of cold turkey, not even a single solitary pellet of the stuff is in my system.
• I've been under a lot of stress at work given our relocation to a new office. So there's been a nonstop flurry of activity preparing for the move. Friday was our last day in the office, and in keeping with the baseline of constantly being everyone's afterthought, not one single person let me know in a timely manner, "Hey, the phones and computers are down--go home." I sat around until someone from the relocation team came thru and they were the ones to tell me to scoot. I sat around for nearly an hour or two waiting, looking like a fool.
• I also managed to lose track of when my menses was due this month.
• I also may not have taken my blood pressure pills the night before.

Yesterday started out oddly enough. My ritual of sitting in my car, windows up, shrieking at the top of my lungs a Tourrettes like string of expletives peppered with sentiments of not wanting to go into the office, which I pretty much call a Primal Scream... sadly did not issue forth.  I sat in my car, mute.

I busied myself with some last minute details and running about. Even managed to growl at a co-worker again, as I said, "I'm issuing a pre-emptive GRRRR!" In person it's less cute than in the written form, trust me. I felt off and depressed and angry all morning.

Then the oversight of not being included in the conversation of "hey go home."

So I decided to head off and get a deep tissue massage. Surely THAT would be enough to set things right for me. And sadly, it didn't.

I then thought, perhaps I was still edgey because I hadn't eaten lunch. So I went for a sit down at a nice Chinese restaurant for salt and pepper pork chop (my fave) and some garlicky sauteed spinach. Then Kenny G came on, much to my chagrin (dad used to listen to this on an endless loop during his nap times as a white noise--and I was brought right back to the fact that there I was, on a Friday, yet another Friday since he died). Lunch did nothing to improve my mood.

I then decided to set about to scope out the two block radius of the new office for alternatives to the parking garage they have lined up for us, and allegedly scored a "limited time" fee of $75 a month for parking. I go to the garage. Park the car, and go inside the desolate mall to attempt to find the parking management office. The world's slowest elevator is in this mall, mind you. So I go up to 3, then get informed it might be back down on 1... and the elevator took so damned long, and I'm about to jump out of my skin with hostility, that I walk out into the garage on the third level and walk around and around until I get back down to one, get to the car, and as I approach the toll booth to pay my parking ticket, EXASPERATEDLY, I ask the attendant where the parking office is, and she gets her manager over to the booth, and he can pretty much tell just by looking at me that I am unhinged. He talks me down a bit, and I'll go on Monday to attempt, yet again, to get my parking permit, which I insist on renewing each month, in person, paying cash, because FUCK I don't want these people having my credit card info, drivers LICENSE info, etc. WTF?  HELLO? IDENTITY THEFT ANYONE?

I then decide to go to the grocery store to use the rest room and buy a replacement jar of peanut butter, as the husband absconded with the new jar I JUST BOUGHT, and as I was approaching the door, a taxi cab decided right then and there, without looking, they were going to put their car in reverse, without looking, narrowly avoiding hitting MY PERSON, which then of course, made me erupt a VOLCANIC SHIT TON OF EXPLETIVES for all to hear about what shit bags the taxicab drivers are in White Plains.

While inside, once I procured my items and sauntered up to the self check out aisle, a man standing there with 2 gift cards to buy, CHIVALROUSLY offered to let me go ahead of him. I even remarked to him directly (after thanking him), "I must have quite a facial expression right about now." He remained kind and helpful. I could tell he was having quite a day too.

At this point I decided to cut my losses, and head over to City Center, to both, inquire at the parking garage about parking permit costs, as well as head to Barnes and Noble for some crochet magazines, then off to Atlanta Bread Company for coffee, and wasting time crocheting while I waited for the husband to arrive at the train station.

I managed to keep my shit together until I picked up the husband, who had our household's traditional "Friday Night Take Out" in tow. And I know he's been having a hard time at work lately, so no, I couldn't unload on him. But by the time I picked him up, I was so upset I just go inwards, almost like a borderline fugue state. Where I hear people, but I'm locked in and locked up and just cannot respond. I drove in complete silence as the husband repeated several times about the turkish pizza he got for dinner, and I remained entirely mute, but tears still streamed down my cheeks in silence.

Once I got into our parking lot at home, I dropped him off at the ideal spot so he had less walking to do to our entrance, and I continued to drive in the lot to find a spot, and once in it, I broke down into sobs.

I ate some pizza and promptly fell asleep in front of the tube. I awoke about 11, and he was already in bed. I stayed up a bit and vegetated, then fell asleep on our lounge chair.

My back aches. My period is due any moment now (just in time for my first day in the new office on Monday).

I'm miserable, and feel helpless to change it.