if only I could catch my death; just give me long enough to fear it

Recently I've heard a couple people discussing the topic of the "privileged" (upper/middle class, 1st world country dwellers, whatever you want to call us) and their depression, and how we have no right to be depressed because of all we have. It makes many of us feel incredibly guilty when we DO get depressed because there's people out there living in war-torn villages or starving or dying of horrific diseases we get vaccinated against or just having a super crappy time in general and yet here we are sitting in our homes with electricity and clean water and jobs and money

and yet we spend half the day contemplating how pleasant it would be to just drop dead.

I wonder sometimes if it is this lifestyle that saps some of us of the will to live. We have been given too much and no longer know how to appreciate the things that matter. So those things we take for granted--food, shelter, health--have no meaning anymore.

So yeah I know I shouldn't be depressed because I have so much while so many others have feckall, but that does not negate the fact that I am indeed depressed.

No one likes feeling depressed.

(Ummm.....duh?)

Hyperbole & a Half did a pretty good post about how it can just sneak up on you, lodge itself firmly in your brain, and by the time you've realized it's there, 'tis too late--you're pretty much suicidal already and so deep in your hermit-hood you can't see any way out of it, and you don't even WANT to get out.

I no longer see a way out of this. I don't even remember how it started. I've never felt so suicidal in my life. But since I feel like I'm in hell already, I'm too chickenshite to off myself in case there really is a hell and it somehow sucks worse than how I feel right now. Even heaven scares me because I don't want an afterlife of any kind, at all.

My shrink wants me to meditate. My doctor gives me anti-anxiety medication. My mother tells me I'm ridiculous. My sister tells me things will get better.* I don't talk to my father about this because as far as Daddy Dearest is concerned, I am The Stupid One, so there's just no point.

I realized recently that all these things have been piling up for months and months and months, like this giant boiling cauldron of depression and suicidal thoughts and anxiety and RAGE. I feel like I'm shut in a room that's getting smaller and smaller and smaller and there's no doors or windows by which to escape.

Know what happens when you take that magic potion and throw in a bunch of xanax every day?

You get the mental shitestorm, but your feelings of caring about having or not having that mental shitestorm go away.

So basically, you embrace the anger and depression instead, and you lose the ability to feel anxious because xanax is awesome like that.

I feel like I'm two seconds away from going on a killing spree. All the time.

I spend huge chunks of time every day fantasizing about throwing some stuff and my cat into the car and just driving driving driving until I'm so far away from home there is no possibility of being recognized or found, and then I'll just disappear. Take on a new name and start a new life as a different person.

Because running away solves everything, right?

But the xanax keeps me from homicide and suicide and running away. I think.

I am teetering on an edge. Hanging by a thread. Each day is just a little harder than the last. Part of me wants to just let go and fall. Go as crazy as I feel and get locked up and sedated and left to rot in the loony bin.

I'm sorry for being such a debbie downer today. Everything just looks so bleak and I have nowhere else to vent all of this.

*Seriously the next person in my family who tells me "things will get better" gets stabbed in all their major organs in alphabetical order with a blunt machete.

Save your breath for breathin' girl, I'm talkin' from black lung

So the other night my mother made me watch The Following with her. 

You guys already know why I ABSOLUTELY WOULD NOT want to watch The Following, EVER.

I lasted 15 whole minutes. 15 PAINFUL minutes of close ups and him in the shower and AARRRRGGGHHH 

and then they found the dude torturing puppies and my will to live just shriveled up and died.

Speaking of dying....

Last week, I had a dream that my humidifier was trying to kill me.

Like an evil robot. And it could turn into my cat at will, so as to confuse me and prevent me from destroying it.

Funny how your subconscious finds ways to tell you things that are actually happening.

I need a humidifier all winter, otherwise I wake up every day with nose bleeds because of the central heating. I am a PSYCHO about keeping the humidifier clean, and with all the necessary clean filters replaced as they need to be.

But I noticed not long after my bout with the plague that my humidifier was not relieving the dryness issues with my nose, throat, and sinuses. I woke up every morning with my throat and airways feeling dryer than Death Valley, and this other awful feeling like someone had jammed an entire box of tissues into my sinuses. So last Saturday, I gave the humidifier a thorough cleaning, but then thought hey it's over a year old, maybe it's just packing it in because these things never seem to last more than a year.

I almost just tossed it then and there, but thought again and decided to instead take that b*tch apart and see if I could identify a fixable problem.

Problem, yes. 

Fixable? Hell no.

The whole inside of the humidifier was infested with black mold.

I happened to get a look at my tongue that day as well. (I'd post a photo, but it's gross). The back of my tongue was (and still is) black.

So Lord knows what the heck my insides look like.

Serious googlage made me aware of the symptoms of toxic black mold poisoning. Many symptoms that I've had for a while, and which have gotten steadily worse since I brought the humidifier out in October:

- nausea

- headaches

- memory loss

- excessive tiredness

and loads of others that, just like the above symptoms, could be attributed to any number of things

but when added to the black tongue and discovery in the humidifier, may be signs of something problematic.

Uuuuuuughhhh

I feel like my batteries are dying. I feel my sanity is this fragile tiny glass thing hanging from the thread of a spiderweb. I'm never happy anymore and most of the time I don't even know why. I'm this tense ball of anxiety and depression and because of that, I don't want to do anything about the possible black mold poisoning.

Of course knowing my luck, it will go away on its own. :/

In more positive news, the fairy book is finally out on Amazon. Read it NOW.

Happy bloody New Year me arse

So I began 2013 sick as all hell.

Like legit sick, with a FEVER for feck's sake, of 101.3 on New Year's Day. Since my normal body temp is 96.8, my doctor informs me that this fever is the equivalent of a 103.3 fever in a normal person.

This may explain why I felt like I'd taken a cocktail of hallucinogens and angeldust.

And like any sane individual with influenza, I got up and went to work last Thursday, January 2nd. Bossman made me--there was an emergency with one of our clients, and an Order to Show Cause had to be filed NOW NOW NOW.

My job is a wonderful source of entertainment sometimes:

Aside from the fever I had that morning (up to 102.1) my chest, throat, nose, and sinuses were on fire. Bossman was all like yeah I know you're sick; I'll let you leave early.

He let me leave half an hour early at 4.30. And I was working NON-STOP all day. When I arrived home, my fever had skyrocketed all the way up to 103.4. I felt just as insane as anyone might feel with their brain being boiled into sludge. (I actually can't remember most of the latter part of that day. I probably should not have driven home...)

And Bossman actually asked could I come in EARLY the next day.

I laughed at him and he rescinded that particular request.

On Friday, I got up at my usual time to get ready for work. I felt too ill for breakfast, so I got some tea and went back upstairs to do my makeup.

At which point I discovered that I felt incredibly nauseous, and then I spent the next 10 minutes bowing over the toilet. I texted Bossman that I was having a somewhat difficult time getting ready, and that I might be late, and then went to lie down for bit before trying again.

A couple hours and several more getting-up attempts later, I discovered that I could not stand for more than 30 seconds without starting to black out.

And so despite my best efforts, I was forced to tell Bossman that I was unable to make it into work on Friday. Surprise Surprise, he was pissed. I spent half of the day laying immobile in bed before I was finally able to get up and go lay immobile on the couch instead.

And of course, me being me, I can't stand to sit round all day like an invalid, confined to bed or sofa. I want to GET OUT and DO THINGS.

But that doesn't work too well when you're actually sick.

Lil Sis was sick with the same thing. My doctor (I spoke to him on the phone both last Wednesday and Friday) was at a loss and said it was most likely the flu, and to just deal with it until it went away and not bother medicating it yet (which is why he is my doctor). Lil Sis's doctor first said it was bronchitis, then the flu (when the antibiotics didn't work), then allergies (after our friends who had their flu shots all caught whatever we had), and then he said he had no clue and gave her an inhaler.

That's the third time that doctor has given her an inhaler for what is definitely not asthma, or anything related to asthma. I realize that inhalers get prescribed for other things like chronic bronchitis, but Lil Sis's bronchitis has never reached that level, and never once has she found any relief or reduction in symptoms from using these inhalers.

As Americans, we pay upwards of $500 a month for this bullsh*t.

Lil Sis and I feel much better this week, but we still both have the chesty cough and I'm blowing my nose twice as much as usual (I go through so many tissues in an average day even when not sick that I am probably personally responsible for the destruction of at least one rainforest). I hope the rest of you had a better start to the year than I did.  Several plagues are making the rounds amongst friends and family and co-workers and I think Lil Sis and I started most of it.......