I am exhausted. I have weaned myself off of antidepressants, Abilify (to enhance the antidepressant), cigarettes, and, unwisely, Adderall. I am soooo in need of stimulants I just want to sleep December away.
Yes, I snuck a ciggie from my guy's pack. It's not helping. I just want to curl up and fall asleep in a warm ball of sheets and comforter and soft pillows I want to dream the holidays away. I don't have the scrap to buy presents, I don't have the green to do anything but pay my cheaper rent for my new room in Queens and eat cheap food. I don't so much feel sorry for myself as just plainweary and wondering as I wander the streets of New York, worrying about next month's bills. Ho ho ho.
I had to ask my dad for money. Do you know how much that SUCKS? To be my age, to have some stupid advanced degree that is basically useless, and to suckle at my dad's money teat because I STILL don't have security in my career(s) and am wondering how I will make it through the spring? You know what? I bet you do understand, because so many of us are experiencing this, especially over the past twelve years of hell. Utter hell. Financial hell. Health care hell. 401K hell.
I know this is supposed to be some comedy relief blog that makes you forget your troubles and larf through the shit you are wading through. But sometimes you just have to acknowledge your friends who are foreclosing on homes that they built and raised their four kids in, who work their tuches' off and yet still can't put their name on a rental lease because their credit rating is now fucked and they don't know how they will pay for braces and books and they are curled up in a ball in their beds and wondering when the dark clouds will pass. Will they pass? Will they?
I called the lady from whom I am renting a room - after living for years on my own, in my own sweet studio - and was ready with the sob stories to have her understand why I am late with my December rent. She stopped me mid-wail and said "Baby, it's been a shitty, shitty time, and the hurricane made it worse here. We are fabulous, gorgeous, smart women who've had a run of bad luck, and honey, it's going to get better. We are going to turn things around and take over the WORLD. Don't you fucking worry about being a little late with that goddamn rent. It will come when it comes, and I told the landlord that he'll have to wait for once, as I've never been late, because life has handed us some fucking bad shit lately and that is what it is. So take a deep breath, know that you are fabulous, and pay me when you have it."
Holy shitballs, who says stuff like that? To take my grey cloud and tell me it is passing and the sun is getting ready to shine again, soon, soon? My true and wonderful friends, that's who. My family, who sends me loving messages of hope when I am under my covers. My buddy Dan, who fights the demon darkness as I do, but lifts me up as he himself is struggling. My guy, who kisses my ankles and makes me smile and feel like a million bucks when I want to cry. My dear sweet friend Sarah, who faces fear with tenacity and grace and humor, though she wonders if going off her meds is the best or worst thing to do right now.
My god, I am so tired, so tired. But I will keep on keepin' on because that is the only thing we can do through all this. Roll up my sleeves, grin and fucking bear it. Augh. It takes every ounce of strength but what the hell is living for?
Just tell me it will get better. It will. Right?? You better believe it.
