It smells like about a thousand Black & Milds outside the front of my building.
Mash-ups on the radio kinda make me want to go out and punch something.
Never in my life have I been the type of person to consciously think, “I want to go out and get fall-down-drunk with the intention of getting into a fist fight.” But tonight that seems like the perfect distraction from my hellish corner of life.
Last night I finished my pack of cigarettes and decided I’m not going to buy any more. Having not left the parking lot all day today, I’ve managed that quite well.
All day long, it’s felt like I’m just floating alone on my own little island of life. Nothing I’ve seen or heard has made me feel anything but echoing emptiness.
Which is absolutely terrible because my gorgeous babies ran and played and laughed all day long, and that should be the easiest source of joy imaginable.
My knee-jerk reaction is to blame my funk on having quit smoking. But having quit more than five other times in my life, I know that’s not the problem. I’m just out of sorts right now, and I need to take the time to figure out what’s wrong and fix it.
The concept of friendship has been at the forefront of my mind lately. Probably because an old “friend” of mine reached out to me out of the blue, and needed a considerable bit of help. Needless to say, her little family occupied my living room for 2 days and nights before I quite simply lost my mind and patience and asked The Husband to tell them whatever it took to get them to take their things and leave. It took them roughly 6 hours to move out, as compared to the 45 minutes to haul their lives and possessions into my home and seemingly take over.
Seems I only hear from the majority of people I used to call friend when they need my help with whatever their current personal or financial crisis happens to be…and only after they’ve “exhausted every other option imaginable.” I feel so valued.
Everyone has their personal demons and things they struggle with. Goodness knows I’m no exception to that concept. In fact tonight is one of those nights where I really need one of the few people worthy of the title “friend” to come hold my hand and keep me anchored to reality so I don’t a) float away into the dark space that is my mind, or b) take a flying leap off the cliff that seems to be the current edge of my shattered sanity. It’s a damned scary place tonight, my mind.
From what I can tell, there’s some kind of cultural ceremony/celebration going on somewhere nearby, involving multiple families from my apartment complex. Specifically from my building, but that’s neither here nor there. Whatever the deal is, they’re all partying it up late into the night. Just congregating out in the parking lot, completely ignoring the whole county noise ordinance thing that starts at 10pm. Last night they woke my kids three times between 8 and midnight. By some chance luck, tonight it seems they’re packing the party on the road, so all is quiet. At least for the time being.
Until about 2330, I was ready to jump off my balcony and rage, just to remind myself what it feels like to truly be alive.
Amazing how being constantly let down by people you thought you could count on forever can so quickly dissolve any sense of humanity you ever felt.
It’s also rather shocking how freeing it is to just tell yourself you really don’t give a flying fart. Key is to really believe it, though. Without that, you’ll just keep falling down the rabbit hole.