Typical Nighttime Ritual

???????????????????????????????Bedtime: 9:30 p.m.  No drinky or smoky for me tonight, thank you very much.

Just get comfy; dear husband starts to snore.  I get up and move to the other room.  Wake up to use the bathroom in about an hour and a half.  Wake up a couple of hours later for the same reason.  Wake up shortly thereafter with the chatter in my head going full steam.  Here’s the first thought I heard last night, “Federal has primacy.”  WTF?

Deep breaths; calm down, go back to sleep.  Wake up again with the chatter going on and on about  . . . just stuff . . . doesn’t even make sense, just keeps yakking.

Deep breaths; calm down, go back to sleep.  Wake up because my shoulders, neck and upper back hurt like hell.  Change positions, take an Aleve.

Deep breaths; calm down, go back to sleep.  Wake up when I hear the neighbor’s truck start at 2:30 a.m.  It’s loud and it runs for 20 minutes before he leaves.  Asshole.

Deep breaths; calm down, go back to sleep.

It’s now around 4:30 a.m.  I am finally sound asleep, then the fucking alarm rings at 5:30.  Sigh . . .

No wonder I am an irritable bitch.


An Introduction

Antelope squirrel sitting upright on a rock

This is me, my squirrelly mind, standing at nervous attention.

Ever have days where you feel like everything is blowing up, melting down, falling completely apart?  Welcome to my world.  Glad to meet you.

I have NO reason to feel this way.  I have a great job, money in the bank, a loving family, a home, enough to eat, enough of everything.  So why the craziness?  Why the anxiety?  Why the self-induced stress?  Irritability?  Low mood?  Hate every fucking thing?

I have been half-crazy ever since I hit puberty, an embarrassing number of years ago.  Tried therapy, tried self-care and self-medication.  Tried meditation and deep breathing to calm my squirrel mind (didn’t work).

The only thing that has worked temporarily is self-medication.  Beer and marijuana; cigarettes and food.  But even that is failing me now, some 40 years later . . .

So I started a blog . . . so I can vent . . . so I can be completely honest.  It won’t always be pretty, and some of it will be indefensible, but I need a place to put my thoughts, to hush the crazy person inside my head by getting out what she is constantly chattering on about.

Before I get any crazier.  Or perhaps I’m just indulging my crazy . . . or maybe I’m not crazy at all, just self-indulgent and narcissistic.  Or maybe I’ll end up in an institution . . . again . . . spent a good part of my youth in one, why not my late middle-age?

Enough already!  Got things to do.  Settle down, settle down, settle down.