Part of the negativity about my house buying situation is that this is the third time I’ve tried. My first two attempts led me to negative experiences. All my doing. Being treated like trash because of your credit rating is pretty shitty. Watching and being responsible for my sisters foreclosure on her home that trashed her credit rating while mine remained in the trash, is a harsh responsibility and guilt to bear. It’s difficult to overcome the idea that I don’t deserve it. So there’s the actual root-cause to my chorus of negative thinking.
I find myself walking in circles sometimes. Sometimes I’m walking halfway up, halfway down, then halfway up my stairs. Sometimes I’ll open a door, start to walk through it, then turn around and walk the other way. Why?
Sometimes, like a few moments ago, I have 15 things that I’d like to do pop into my head all at the same time. Because I’m impulsive, I pick the last thing, then as I start to do that, I realize that perhaps I should start at the top, no, perhaps I should stop and re-prioritize what I want to do. No, perhaps that’s too much, I think I’ll sit down, oh, shiny!
That’s what happens and it is probably one of the things that deep down subconsciously depresses me about myself. It’s just another flaw. It’s the voice of someone shouting at me to make up my mind. It pisses me off.
PS – I think I’ll go do what I was going to do before I got distracted…
It has taken me a lot of embarrassing moments to get to where I am now. Lots of moments of asking my mom or my dad to be a co-signer on something. I’ve had repossessions, I’ve had the Department of Justice threaten me because of my default status on my college loans. One of the things that I’ve always wished for is job security and stability. That is something that I have had now for almost 9 years. Even though it is in the automotive industry. I suppose that’s why it has taken me as long as it has to get here.
My college loans are in repayment and in good standing. My credit rating has gone from 535 to 683. I pay my credit cards early and more than the minimum payment. My car payments have never been late. I have over 10k saved in retirement and almost 10k in available credit among all my credit cards. All this to one end: Home Ownership. I see the light at the end of the tunnel of this life-goal. I’m even kind of nervous. I’ve been looking at houses for a while now so I have an idea of what is out there and of what I want.
I’m 45. I made a lot of mistakes but I thinks I’ve put them behind me now.
On day 11 of not taking cymbalta or the replacement, Prozac. Barely any withdrawals now. Just the occasional tingly brain which is easily ignorable. While going to the Prozac was a bit wild, it actually did reign in the brain flashes. I just didn’t need to take 10 days worth. I think I took 5. I know last Sunday (1/10/16) I stayed in bed for about 16 hours. There was a time when I just didn’t think I could move, almost like I was a prisoner of my body. Either way, once I got through sleeping all that shit off, I’ve felt pretty good.
Now, what to do with the energy… I have a ton of it but I’m still lacking the fire in my mind to use it. There’s so many places I need to start on. Eating better, more activity, anger management, social tact… At this point my body is still kinda trapped inside my brain. The desire to be lazy is still strong. My desire to eat yummy food is still there. That demon in my gut that screams in pain when it’s hungry, is still causing pain and getting worse the more I try to not eat. I don’t need food. Seriously. I see my gut in the mirror and I know I have enough fat stores to last me a few months of drinking just water. Not saying that’s what I’ll do but I know I could last a famine.
So, right this moment I’m planning on going to get me something to eat either at IHOP or Waffle House.
Now that I’m off the meds my thoughts swirl around in my head like a turd in the toilet. I get fixated on the feelings of disappointment I’ve had in myself and in others. I judge myself harshly, far worse than I should, I know. I’m waiting for my brain chemicals to finally settle down to a normal level. My norepinephrine levels have leveled out because I find that I can sleep again. The serotonin levels on the other hand are still fluctuating wildly. The intensity of emotions are pretty strong. I’m giving it to the end of January before I start to consider that the levels have all settled down.
In the meantime I need to put a stopper on this rage, or at the very least convert it to something else. To this end I’m considering going guitar shopping. It’s been a long time since I’ve picked anything but the reason why I don’t play the acoustic I have already is because it’s just flawed. Always has been. I got it because it was cheap and worked. Now I need one that fits me. I think I’ll go check out Guitar Center on Saturday.
The word sardonic has been popping into my head of late. I had to look it up. My gut feeling about what it means was what I thought it was. Grimly cynical.
As my brain chemicals go back to their normal levels, and the cymbalta finally fades away from my life, I hear the echoes of my bitchy ex girlfriend telling me that my temperament is going to drive me to a heart attack. She might be right. Even without her crazy bitchiness to deal with, the world in general rears its always ugly head to me and drives me to anger and frustration very quickly.
Right this moment I’m thinking about how society has been programmed to think that human life has no value against personal property or wealth. It’s irritating to look at this country of ours, a country made of laws to ensure that everyone remains protected, turns onto itself cannibalistically to devour those less fortunate. It is more important that Joe Greed gets rent when he wants it. Failure to do so will get you killed by a cop and because of these laws, you can’t claim self-defense if you try to protect yourself and your family from him. It is so easy to take a sterile, cold, and completely procedural approach to life, as if there is only black and white, grey is wrong.
So I get awakened in the middle of my night to my girlfriend telling me she urgently needs to talk to me. I wake up and listen to her tell me that she got suspended from work and could be facing prison. Why? Because someone took a couple of oxycontin from a tamper proof pack and inserted the wrong drug in its place. Who did it? She says over and over that she didn’t do it. I want to believe her. She’s only been at this new job for less than 2 months so to do something like this so quickly would be beyond retarded. Then there’s the fact that within these 2 months she’s already made enemies of her peers. Sadly, I’m not the least bit surprised at that. She has such a condescending i-am-always-right-shut-up attitude that I’m well aware of that it didn’t come the least bit surprising that she’s already had confrontations with the other nurses. I’ve held my tongue on my thoughts about that because I don’t want to make her feel bad.
So now I’m facing the possibility of my own life and household being turned upside down because of her. I can just see it now. I’m laying in bed quietly sleeping and startled awake to a fucking shotgun pointed at my face. I have nothing to hide. Never have but I don’t know what she has sitting around that could come back and bite ME in the ass as if I was some compliant conspirator.
I know that sounds like I’m assuming she’s guilty. I honestly don’t know if she is or isn’t. She swears she’s innocent and that should be good enough for me but she has a tendency to do things that are retarded without thought of consequence. Things that really could have landed her into this exact situation – since she’s lived with me. Things that I threatened to put her ass into the street over. I swear to goodness that if she gets arrested, I’m sending Jordan back to Michigan with a box full of her mom’s shit and nobody from that side will ever hear from me again.