Thats That in 2024

Ooooh.
Yup.
It’s official; I’m in a foul ass mood today.
I thought my sadness was just because I forgot to take my meds this morning.
Yeah, it probably is.
But, baby, all the rage is coming to the surface.
All. Of. It.
I haven’t said anything to anyone that was fueled by this rage but it was close.
I’ve already taken steps to get things under control. I just need time to decompress before dealing with any possible bullshit.
Like, y’all, I can FEEL the rage in my head. Making it fuzzy, making my toes clinch, making my lungs want to scream out horrible things and beg someone to put me in jail.
But it’ll be ok.

I came home, took the dog out, fed them both (didn’t yell at them), took my meds, and now I’m in time out; sitting my in my shower , bathroom door closed, hot water streaming over my legs.
This is where I will stay until the medication kicks in.
I will sit right here and rant.
So, if you don’t want to read the raw rantings of an unmedicated, highly perturbed, bi polar, depressed, childless woman in her 40’s, then scoot.
Go on, git, I ain’t gonna judge you.
Shit, right now, I don’t even care.
For the rest of us, let’s do this BEFORE the medication kicks in.

Usually I am a very caring and understanding person (or I try to be).But there is a reason I’m on so much medication (besides the bi polar); I have an inner monologue that constantly rolls.
Cons-ten-ly.
Most of the time I can keep her under control. However, there are days that she will not shut up about subjects that she shouldn’t touch.

Stop right there. I’m not crazy.
Technically.
I’m not psychotic.
I know it’s me.

This is why I blog so much.
This is also why I have to make sure my filter is in tact.
Except now….its all coming out and I don’t give a flipping fyck.

The last appointment of the day today was my ex boyfriend’s sister. She is one of those women that have 4 different kids by 5 different men. Just trash. Come to think about it, all his sisters are like that. His mom, too. They live off of child support and everyone else is the problem. Anywho, she has some of the ex’s vicious healers and just got a new puppy. A beautiful blue/silver pitty puppy. Just gorgeous! They came in this afternoon (at 4 fricking 30 because that’s the only time she can come, bullshit) for her last set of puppy shots. I gave them the whole song and dance about how she can get spayed as soon as she hits 6 months. Her old man (who was eating a sandwich in the fucking exam room) said “well I hadn’t really planned on gettin her fixed.”
Of course you hadn’t, you ignorant bastard. You got this beautiful creature with the whole intent of breeding her to death. You selfish asshole. But who am I? I just work for the vet and want to take your money for needless surgery. That’s a golden goose you got there buddy, itellyawut. A little blue piggyback.
She is so pretty and happy. As soon as she comes into heat, she’s done for. I want to contact my ex and beg him to not let her breed the dog. She will listen to him.
But…I can’t.

Dana texted and asked what I was doing. I told him i was in time out.
Him: Uh oh! Why?
Me: Forgot to take my meds and Im in a FOUL mood.
Him: Well maybe this will make you feel better.
He sent a selfie. Yes, as soon as I saw his smiling face, I felt all warm and fuzzy.
Me: I wish you were home.
Him: If there was work there, I would be.
Me: But…Im here.
Nothing.
Me: Yup.
Nothing.
Me: Ok, its whatever. Im fine.
Still nothing.

I told him eariler that I felt we were out of balance. His response? “Well, i dont look at my phone anymore at work. Just at lunch and when I go to the port-a-potty.”
I know that this plant doesnt allow phones inside.
I KNOW THIS.
I was sitting right there beside him while he was dong his onboarding.
But still, that little voice in my head is telling me hes doing it on purpose.
I know hes not.
He got all settled into the widows house again yesterday. On the outside, I know this is a good thing. He is a social butterfly and makes friends everywhere he goes. I know that he is telling the truth about her age and the fact that shes doing it for extra money. I trust him.
But there is that voice again saying, “fuck them, how is it fair that they get to see him and i dont. Who the fuck cares about this person and her financial struggles.”

He just texted back “Im not playing this game.”
I replied, “Ok, its not a game. This is the person you say you love having a really hard fucking time.”

Fine, whatever, he can do what he wants.
He knows my number.

-Edit-
Ok, after some texts back and forth, accusations of giving guilt trips, lots of tears on my side, we talked it through.
I swear I just heard a dryer go off.
I dont have a dryer.
I gotta keep my crazy in check. This is why I dont need to talk to people while Im feeling that way.
I honestly dont know how he is so patient with me.