Who Can It Be Now?

If i had the choice to be ANYONE in the world- living or dead?   *thinks*  I’m surprising even myself by saying that i’d choose being me- no matter what. and although my life has been one fucked up hotmess after the next, i still wouldn’t ever change being good ol’ *Miss Tee*, if for no other reason than i’m a tenacious motherfucker and i really would like to see how my epic tale ends.

however, having chosen myself, if i had ‘it’ to do all over, i would like to make the following changes-

  1. lose all of this weight.  or at least, have the knowledge and forethought as a younger version of me to NEVER have gained this mass of mess to begin with.
  2. not listen to my parents as much as i did.  being a kid/teen/young adult, i foolishly believed that my parents always were always most concerned with my well being.  i figured that since they were adults, and were responsible for me, that they knew best, and would never do anything that wasn’t for my ‘own good’.  but now, having been a parent for nineteen years and with some actual life experience, i see just how fucked up my parents were.  hindsight is truly 20/20, and my therapy sessions would double if i dwelled on all of the mistakes my parents dragged me through, not to mention most of it wasn’t even ‘best intentions’-type of stuff.  adults make mistakes. and parents are adults. parental word is NOT god.  i know this NOW.
  3. make better choices.  including but not limited to- not falling in love so quickly, learning to be on my own and more independent in general, and learning more LIFE SKILL-sy things like car maintenance and home repair.
  4. not get pressured into school right out of high school.  the biggest regret of my entire life was being forced into secondary education before i was ever ready.  i never had the choice to just float and make mistakes before i was thrust into the BIGPEOPLE WORLD, and over two decades later, i still feel like i am paying for that.  i wish i had the chance to experience life a lot more before being thrust into adulthood at age seventeen.  i learned how to live paycheck to paycheck, and how to live off of credit cards, only to have to get money from my credit cards to pay my credit card bills.  i learned how to live on one meal a day, mostly on ‘discarded’ sandwiches from the cafe where i worked.  i learned how to work two jobs until i was so exhausted that i skipped class- A LOT.  i had absolutely no social life which caused so much unhappiness and resulted in more bad choices and i cared very little about moving forward in life.  worst of all, this probably resulted in my agoraphobia, panic anxiety disorder and yes, a lot of my weight problems.  to top it off, i graduated very mediocrely, which obviously didn’t help me land any topnotch art jobs, except, at an art supply store, ironically called Top Notch.

i don’t like to live in the past and try not to dwell on all of the shit, but it’s hard to not get bogged down in blame or a big ol fat shame spiral when things are less than shiny- even more than twenty years later.

however, having said all of this,  i was lost in the moment as we were driving around Ocean City looking at Christmas lights the other night, and realized that i finally am living in THE PRESENT.  i no longer want to sit and try to make up for mistakes in the past, and i’m certainly not going to wait around until my life is ‘perfect’ before i start living.  it took forty years for me to get here, and with any luck, i’ll be around on earth at least forty more (*knocks on wood*), and i don’t want to waste any more time on the ‘what if’s’ or thinking i can’t do things UNTIL (*insert thing i’ll probably never get around to*).  at the bottom of it all, i’m not unhappy with who i am, i know that i still have an amazing lifetime ahead of me, and don’t want to miss a thing.

my abnormal life.

my abnormal life-
it’s as prickly as a cactus.
as confusing as any road map
with about a hundred do-overs,
i’m something of a mess.

all fleeting happiness overshadowed by depression.
anxiety and regression
i have faked it, but have yet to make it.
i’m not who i advertise on the outside, but i hope to be.

i write.
and i write. and i write and i write and i write.
if i dont, my brain gets gummed up with words
gets jumbled with thoughts all trying to sort themselves into something fighting to take over.
i just pray that i come across as sane.
i pray that no one sees inside.

cant sleep. wont sleep. need sleep. heartburn. nerves all jangly. Walmart in my jammies.
heart attack-like pain dulled now. Thanks Zantac! dulling to a steady burning ball of pain.

Subsiding. Writing. Denying. Pondering. Trying.
Seriously considering checking into the hospital, but way too afraid.

gotta be okay. pretend it away.
i think it might help. not sure how, but it cant hurt.
i’ve seen TWELVE MONKEYS and ONE FLEW OVER A CUCKOO’S NEST- and they certainly didnt turn out well. i know how these things work.

i must weigh my brain-health and the possibility of “getting better” against what it might mean to my son if dear old mom goes off to “The Crazy House.”
i could lie, i guess.
How are you doing, Theresa? (i say, “fine. good. great. everything is awesome.”)

too heavy to think about this at whatever o’clock in the morning.
cantdontwont go on like this.
it’s so much extra work to be THIS FUCKING NUTS.
happy one second, flipping out the next. mad after that. then falling in love the second after. smilingcryinghidingpretendingavoiding. faking it all.

holy hell, i’m a mess.
i’m embarrassed and ashamed and mad at myself.
holyshit i’m in a shame spiral again. oh goody!


should i take this more seriously?
should i take meds more furiously?
should i medicate this furiousness, SERIOUSLY?

“I want to be better.”
“Of course you do.”
“I swear it.”
“Of course.”
“Really! I’m just not there yet.”
“Of course not. These things take time.”
“We have to be patient.”
“Take your meds, dear. We’ll talk later. Right now you need to rest.”

i’m headed in the right direction i think.
is that the ativan or my inspirational quote-a-day calendar talking?

-“it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
-“Gotta go through it, to do it.”
-“Measure twice, cut once.”
-better out than in?
-smile it’s free?
-Two birds with one stone?
-an ounce of prevention and all of that shit.

i’m an absolute fucked up trainwreck basketcase whacked out nutjob.
i really am.
i’m agoraphobic, morbidly obese and suffer from Social Anxiety Panic Disorder and Depression.
a regular ol’ hotmess.
but that’s who i am.
and it’s part of my abnormal life.