chibirhm | MAKE ME UN-MISERABLE

My First-World Reasons I am Miserable:
Uno! Impeding period. Always makes me super depressed/anxious. This month, I got to have an utterly unexplained panic attack over nothing on Sunday morning that lasted for three hours. That was three hours of uncontrollable shaking, crying, nausea, and mind-numbing terror for no reason. THREE. HOURS. Do you have any idea how INSANELY uncomfortable that is and how shaken that leaves you? IT FEELS TERRIBLE. It's like your soul vomiting. Only more painful.

Dos! EVERYONE, STOP DYING. I could emotionally handle the gay teen suicides (sort of). But I cannot handle them and then Tim Gunn making an It Gets Better video where he talks about how he tried to kill himself (TIM GUNN, MY HEART IS DELICATE AND FRAGILE AND YOU ARE MY FAVORITE), and then JGL's brother died, which I know shouldn't bother me but really, really does on two levels. The first being that whenever he'd make these tweets or tumblr posts about his brother it reminded me so strongly about how I feel about my older sister, and then my crazy over-empathy parts get involved and I start thinking about what would happen if one of my siblings died, and he was thirty-six and totally healthy! NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO DIE AT THIRTY-SIX UNLESS THEY HAVE AN EXTREMELY GOOD REASON, LIKE BEING IN AN AVALANCHE, OKAY. THAT'S ONE OF MY RULES OF LIFE THAT KEEPS ME FROM TURNING INTO A PARANOID NEUROTIC MESS. (Also I feel really sad for JGL an his family and everyone, except I don't really know them or anything about the situation so it's kind of a secondary "oh, that's such a shame".)

Also, the couple whose cats I was going to watch while they went to Turkey cancelled their Turkey trip because it looks like his brother might bite it. Right before his daughter's wedding. And his brother is my parents' age. Seriously, everyone, less with the death! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS.

Tres! Second week in a row of gray and rain. Ugh ugh ugh ugh.

Quatro! I went to Target to try to replace my much beloved flats and they had these great shoes almost exactly like my old ones, but the 6.5s were too small and the 7s were too big. I've tried everywhere else - the local shoe store, DSW, Zappos... AND I HATE SHOPPING, YOU GUYS. I really, really fucking need new shoes. Why can't I just find new freaking shoes? And don't even get me started on my sneaker woes. All of my shoes are legit falling apart at the seams. Like that's not a turn of phrase, they are falling apart at the seams.

On top of no luck with shoes at Target, I also had no luck with finding bags (also falling apart), any clothes (red zone situation - all my clothing fits into one dark and one light wash easily, and the light wash isn't even full, and both of those are fifty percent pajamas), or the laundry detergent my mother asked me to pick up. Though I did manage to get myself eyeshadow because my old eyeshadow has been disintegrating everywhere. Woo...hoo. Clearly, a priority.

This trip to Target took up the part of the day where I was supposed to take the dog for a walk, too, and by time I got home I was overtired, cramping, cranky, freezing cold, and so instead I passed out on my couch for two hours. And then I felt guilty the rest of the night for going out when clearly I should have been staying home taking care of my baby. (For the record, I should not have, I just feel an irrational sense of guilt anyway, and I'm hormonal/Jewish, so it was semi-crippling. My dog forgave me within thirty seconds of scratching under her chin.)

Cinqo! This week's episode of Glee was so depressing I can't even talk about it without legit feeling queasy. Usually, Glee is my special happy fun time full of campy music and devoid of logic or emotion. Robin's boyfriend comes over, Ella's over, Robin's home, we all curl up on the couch and coo at Finn and Artie because they are too precious to exist and where were those boys in high school when we were there? It's good times. TONIGHT WAS NOT GOOD TIMES, GLEE. IT WAS TAKE MY TERRIFYING WORST FEARS ABOUT PARENTS DROPPING NEARLY-DEAD AND MANIPULATING MY EMOTIONS FOR AN HOUR. AN HOUR! EVEN FINN BEING ADORABLE ABOUT FINDING JESUS ON HIS GRILLED CHEESE DIDN'T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER.

THAT MEANS I FELT PRETTY DAMN SHITTY ABOUT THE WHOLE THING, FYI.

Sies! Ever since my Fun Marathon of Terror, my stomach has been misbehaving terribly. The latest thing it has decided I cannot eat without insane nausea/indigestion? Apples. And sister and her boyfriend just went apple picking! My mother just made applesauce and apple tart! Apples are everywhere! It's fucking October in fucking New England! And I love apples!

Stomach, you and I are not on good terms right now.

YOUR JOB: Do not hug me! Do not pet my hair! Give me fun stuff! Happy stuff! Rec me fics of adorable boys in love! Youtube videos! Find adorable fuzzy things from CuteOverload backlogs! Write me comment fics!

Also if one or two of you could come over and do my laundry/the rest of my reading for class tomorrow/make it so I don't have to go to class tomorrow, I'd really like that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ninja-orange.livejournal.com

1) dying all over the place like this is just not ok.

2) if you just had a panic attack the apple thing might be temporary? My body rebels all the time when I'm stressed to foods I'm otherwise ok with.

3) UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE NO HAPPY FLUFFY THINGS ON HAND. only this stupid fucking pset.

From:

protecting you from the ravages of hell since 1988!

MAKE ME UN-MISERABLE

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