Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Like a Whine Stone Cowboy.

I've had one hell of a coondog bitch of a day from the gitgo.( Shout out to All Samurai Cat fans who got that reference.)
 Clumsy and shaky all day.
Can't type without this damn undeactivatable touch pad sending my cursor to the middle of whatever I'm typing.
Had to fight my way through a bloody crowded Grocery store two days before Thanksgiving (And I need to go back today! I hadn't realized we were that short on milk.)
Being told to talk to my melting down teenage son and having my efforts to that regard ruined by called out angry comments from the person who asked me to talk to him in the first place.
Stayed up all night watching over my eight year old who hates to be touched or interacted with unless it involves her quarter hourly quest for another sippy cup.
 She did sleep for two hours, but she did so in my bed and her dislike of being touched kept me from sharing the space with her.
 I am running on the fumes of a two hour nap + a three hour nap hours later and I've been informed that I should expect to be awake for at least another four to six hours.
On top of all of this nonsense I'm taking a pill that only makes me sicker, but I can't stop taking it because going cold turkey could kill me (The cause of the earlier mentioned shaking and clumsiness.)
I also reverse process caffeine, so I can't even drink a cup or six of coffee to stay awake because all it will do is make me even more tired but with the added fun of being more jittery and sending my ADD and Paranoia through the roof.
I feel tired and alone and recently the people I enjoy interacting with the most have been too busy or too sick or too overwhelmed with life to want to consistently deal with my lame ass problems.
Every day I feel myself dying little by little and I don't know how to make it stop and now I sound like some punk ass emo teenager.
I don't know what to do, but I know I have no choice but to slog through it, even more now that the arthritis in Laura's knees as gotten so bad.
I'm not suicidal, because even if I wanted to take the easy way out I couldn't because I have too much to do here. I have responsibilities I'll never escape owed to people who will be dependent on me until the day I die.
This is too big for me, too big for me by half and again. It is my lot however, and I have to do it.
So forgive me for this, forgive me for indulging myself in some whinging upon occasion.
Forgive me my need for toys and brightly colored people and things to lift my spirits for a while, because not much else does anymore.
Forgive these words spoken through a tired, vibrating haze while my five year old plays youtube videos that sound as if they lifted their soundtracks from some Christian Flagellant's version of hell. I'll be okay soon, I have to be. Until then, please keep an eye out for me, pray for me, cast a spell for me, or send me thoughts and energy. Do whatever you think will help, I'm going to need it.
I thank-you all for putting up with me and with this. I thank you all for reading this and hopefully not exploding into anger or taking offense by what was written. I meant no harm, I just need to get it off my chest and there was no other way to do it, not that didn't involve me being even more of an asshole anyway. Writing this has calmed me down a bit already, though I am no less tired. I need to take my anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and those damnable ADD pills again. Think of me if you can and have a pleasant and happy day and holiday thereafter.
      Much Love,
-Cameron

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