Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Not OK

Warning: This post is bleak and pointless

So from now on I'm going to include a disclaimer at the beginning of my bleak, hopeless, and shittily written posts. This is for the sake of all my readers who are sick of hearing that shit. So if you don't want to read something pointless and disturbing, check this out instead.
Pointless, yes. But definitely not disturbing.
I've come to the conclusion after much self-reflection and internal questioning that I am not OK. Not OK. Alisha was doing my hair on Saturday and as I sat trapped under one of those hair dryer things, a woman was sitting right across having the absolute audacity to crack her fucking gum obnoxiously in my presence. I came so close to murdering this woman for cracking her fucking gum. I was envisioning in my head stabbing her repeatedly with Alisha's sharp, hair-cutting scissors. I was pulled out of my murderous fantasy by a sharp pain in my hand and I looked down and noticed my fingernails were digging so deep into my hand that they practically broke the skin. Not OK.

I was driving home from said hair appointment and in the opposite lane came barreling down a semi going way too fast. I had this potent, overwhelming urge to drive my car into it's path. Like I pictured my hands turning the wheel really sharp. I heard the sounds of crashing in my head. I saw the pieces of metal and body parts and shit flying just everywhere. The body parts sort of pulled me out of my revelry. It's not my preferred way to go - bloody and dismembered. That would be so embarrassing. Also, I'm not the type to bring others down with me. Needless to say, I made the right choice to not drive into the path of an on-coming semi. Still: Not OK.

Yesterday, I looked at a sinkful of dirty dishes and I started crying. Like literal, wet, salty tears. Over dirty dishes. Not OK.

Today, I made myself some yummy split soup and ate it. And then afterward I was filled with such an overwhelming sensation of guilt and dread. Like just physically and emotionally sick with myself. I wound up heaving over the toilet. Bye bye soup, I barely knew ye. Not OK.

This morning when I went into work, I saw the same image hanging on the wall that I see every single day:
But today it was like I was seeing it for the very first time. I looked at it. And I looked at it. Then I think a little part of me died inside. Like withered, shriveled and died. What is the point of living in a world where people hang that kind of shit on walls as decoration? Not OK.
Now I'm not a mental health expert or anything, but I'm pretty sure these things don't happen to "normal" people. So I think it's that time again. Time to find a fucking therapist. The prospect of finding a therapist depresses me more than you know. The thought of it, like, exhausts me to no end. But I don't think I have much of a choice at this point. I'm so sick of being not OK. Have you ever been not OK? As much as I'd like to be the only person contending with crazy ass thoughts and feelings, it would be awful nice to know I'm not alone. Sometimes I look around at people and wonder how they all have their shit so together. Perfect hairstyles, cute outfits, expensive footwear, manicured fingernails, smiles on their faces, well-behaved children in their arms. I hate people that have their shit together. So jealous. Not OK.
I get to have another vaginal ultrasound tomorrow. Yippee! Nothing better than a dildo-ish wand in your vag and a search for cancer. At least, I'm coming down to the wire on the ovarian cyst/cancer issue. Just a couple more days until I know if I'm dying.
It's not all bleak and hopeless in my world, though, you'll be happy to know. My piss-ants are finally doing some cool shit. They're making tunnels and like building a little city. So there's something for me to put on my "Reasons to Live" list. Also on the list is Liv, who drew more pictures of people pooping today. And Thursday is my 4 year anniversary. We're going to DC this weekend to visit Todd's father's grave and go to the Holocaust Museum. So that ought to cheer me up.
A word to the people who know me in real life: I don't need an intervention. Don't even think about that shit. I'm not fucking kidding you. Obviously, I have the balls (or the stupidity) to remain open and honest about my feelings and experiences. And it actually makes me feel better. Just don't get all dramatic with the concern. It will only serve to piss me off and make me go anonymous on this blog and maybe in real life. And I know how sad you would be if I did that because you told me how sad you would be if I did that. Love!


  1. Ah, dear Gwen I've got a newsflash for you. Nobody has their shit together. They may have periods of normalcy where they APPEAR to have their shit together, but I would say it's fleeting.

    The people that DO have their shit together? Well, they need to be stabbed in the eye right along with the fucking gum crakers/poppers. Seriously, that is one of my biggest pet peeves.

    See, I'm not okay right along with you. :)

  2. Sweetie, none of us are actually OK. We just have some days that are better than others. You're in my thoughts.

    PS...You can do angry rants on my blog if you'd like. I like angry.

  3. Candice - that is the most comforting thing I've ever heard. I don't know why but I've lived my life thinking there are perfect people and feeling like shit because I'm not one of them. Thanks for opening my eyes to the fallacy of that notion :) (Oh and thank you for agreeing with me on gum crackers. Honestly, I wanted to STAB her to death. Good thing I have control of my primitive impulses).

    Sarah - After I read your blog last night, I thought, "Fuck it, I'm telling the truth about how I'm feeling." So you inspired my rant. And I feel so much better know that I've done it. Like the heaviness of all that despair is starting to subside. Thank you!

  4. I think you're more OK than you realize, if for no other fact than that you a) know what you're feeling isn't healthy in the long run and b) know that you need to talk about it (here and/or with a therapist).

    You know yourself. You know what you need to feel OK. You just have to do it.

  5. I don't think that you should feel like you have to put disclaimers on your posts. Very little you say is pointless.

    But the kitties you linked me to? They are kinda pointless.

  6. Most of the people I know are not ok on one level or another. In fact, I happen to know that all the coolkids are totally not ok. I think the people who walk around ok are just not introspective neough to worry about their shit. Take my husband for instance, he is totally ok, I mean beyond ok, he doesn't always have his shit together but he is probably the most emotionally balanced person I know. He even admits it's because he has a short memory. His father is a dick and alcoholic but he just doesn't think about it. The people I know(myself included) who are introspective and cerebral think a lot about how they are thinking.

    I've done therapy to deal with Daddy issues and while I have a handle on most of my shit, it still rears it's head in ways I never expected. The good thing is after therapy and dealing with issues you know there are ways to get past the mean reds faster. You my dear are fortunately and unfortunately, not even close to being alone in this.

  7. I've been not OK before. I think most of us have. But don't think that it doesn't happen to "normal" people because there are no "normal" people. We're all fucked up. Don't go anon - I'd definitely be sad!

  8. I'm really, really glad that you're able to figure out that you're not ok. Pretty positive, really. By the way, I'm rarely fucking ok. I am, however, medicated. The whole blogging thing, along with the community of miscreants that we've fallen into? Has been enormously helpful.

    And yeah, finding a new therapist always blows. Do you have anyone who can make a recommendation?

  9. Sci Fi Dad - You know what? You're right. Crazy people usually don't even know that they're crazy.

    Pos - The kitties were sort of a joke. Not funny, I know. But along the lines of if you don't want to read about disturbing shit, look at the cute little kitties. And thanks for thinking my posts aren't pointless.

    Formerly Fun - Being introspective really blows sometimes. I do think a lot about what I'm thinking. It's like a mirror facing a mirror. And the weird thing is that I have the lowest self-esteem. So how I got to be so narcissistic in that way really baffles me. I've been in therapy before, but I find it really painful to be in that vulnerable a spot. I like having the illusion of control even if I'm falling apart internally. Seeing a therapist is tantamount to giving up the illusion. It sucks.

    Gina - "There are no normal people" - Hmmm. Food for thought.

    Praying to Darwin - Yeah, blogging in itself has been therapeutic to me in so many ways. I think I'm realizing lately that it's just not enough. I wish medications worked for me but they just never have. I just made an appointment with some random doctor. He seemed really nice on the phone, so we'll see. You know I'll keep you all posted.

  10. Just so you know, I am not OK. The key I suppose is that I am not more OK than I've been in the past.
    The keys for me have been good therapy, 12 stepping what I need to 12 step (in my case, drug addiction), and exposing myself to people, places and situations that are positive, focused, loving, caring, thoughtful and unafraid to tell me the truth.
    Gwen - you have one of the lovliest freak flags I've ever come across. I am not joking. And you KNOW I'm all about the lovely.
    So yes, get your ass into therapy, clear that shit out of the way. And then? Fly the shit out of that lovely freak flag of yours.

  11. there were times in my life when I was so not okay that I'm surprised I'm still here.

  12. I think you are most definitely okay, and being riddled with doubt and anger is completely natural.

    FEELINGS ARE A GOOD THING. Reacting is a good thing. You don't need therapy because you have emotions. Emotions are what keeps us alive.

    Please don't train yourself to act just like everyone else.

    It's more important that you see, understand, and react.

    I do not promote apathy.

    When you don't UNDERSTAND? That's when you need guidance, when you need therapy. When comprehension alludes you, and your confusion causes pain and clouds your perception.

    But feeling, and reacting? That's a good thing, if you ask me. I don't agree with trying to take our emotions away.

  13. Oh, and all of you people listed above?

    You are all okay, and fine, if you ask me, and it's the people that don't feel that are fucking weird and crazy.

  14. After all you've been through Gwen, you'd be nuts if you were okay. Really. I've spent way more time (at work...please don't tell) than I should have the past few days reading your all of your archives. Your writing is so damn good and so real - you are amazing. My eldest son died eight years ago and I am STILL not okay. I get pissed off at all of the okay appearing people too. Give yourself the same break you'd give anybody else going through all the shit you've been through and are going through. Please? Would it be okay if I emailed you sometime? Honestly...I love your writing. You're incredible in my book.


  15. Mongolian Girl - I fly my freak flag proud! I'm flattered you recognize the freak in me and find it a lovely aspect of my personality. I think we are kindred spirits, you and I. I'm so glad I "met" you. You are an inspiration with all you've overcome and your rad pumpkin muffins. So, I'm getting help so I can stop being dangerously freakish and starting using my freakishness for good not evil. Thank you.

    Lora - I look at you and see such a "together" person. You are beautiful with this perfect house and family. To know you've been in a Not OK place gives me hope, it really does.

  16. Rassles - Your comment really had me thinking. A lot. I don't want to think exactly like everyone else, or be a drone, or a zombie. But I realize why it would look like that's what I want by what I posted. I honestly don't think I could ever be typical. I'm just a weird girl. I've always been the weird girl and I don't hate that about myself exactly. I actually adore weirdness and awkwardness in others. I love blogs like yours where the person blogging isn't afraid to be truthful about the awkwardness. I don't really like myself for a myriad of other reasons. And I've been having impulses lately to hurt and injure myself. That is the stuff that I'm seeking to remedy. But don't you worry - apathy is like an impossible experience for me. I FEEL everything so strongly. When I say that I am numb, it probably just means I'm feeling like a normal person :)

    Sassy Sistah - Wow! Of course you can email me anytime. I'm really honored that you think so highly of my writing and that you took the time to read my archives. I'm so sorry to hear that you lost your son. The pain of losing a child would just be unbearable to me.

  17. Shit...I've spent part of the past two days visiting my schizophrenic (real, diagnosed schizophrenia--not a figure of speech) niece in the ICU of the hospital where she was admitted with what is probably congestive heart failure. This is a person who has been dealing with the voices in her head for more than 20 years...yet has never been anything but sweet to me. (But her parents have seen a different side, to be sure.) I guess what I'm saying is this, Gwen. Your problems are very real...you're dealing with real shit...cancer, anorexia, your sister's death. There's nothing I can say to take away your pain. But do whatever it takes to get better. My niece can't get better. But you can...really, I believe you can. And I think that once you hear from the docs that you DON'T have cancer, you'll feel a lot better. Remember when Rassles said she was giving you tough love? That's kind of what I'm saying here.

  18. I don't know about normal people - fuck normal people - but I have some of those same thoughts on a daily basis. It's a matter of not acting on them, of not relying on your first thought.

    Oh, and that wrestlemania poster would do the same thing to me. Rip it down!

  19. I agree with Rassles. Feelings are good and purposeful and often useful and generally important to your health, whether it feels like it or not. I hope you are okay and you remember that your daughter is cute and that though that wrestlemania poster is terrifyingly ugly, you have better taste than that.

    I've been to that museum, it is very sad. They took a bunch of us to it when we were ninth graders and almost everyone emerged in tears. It's quite beautiful though - but I suggest avoiding the shoes room if you don't want to cry in your stomach and the diorama of the gas chambers if you don't want to feel sick.
    Or go to both of them, feel horrified, and feel glad that it is over and you are just in a museum.

    I'll send some love your way though because I have a puppy and she has extra to spare.

  20. There are times when I'm decidedly NOT OK, too. I think, though, that I've been unnaturally blessed in a lot of ways: No real childhood trauma, loving parents, generally nice boyfriends, no abuse, a naturally cheery disposition. My major issue is that whole adoption/abandonment thing, which I'll likely deal with all my life. But all things considered? I'll take it.

    But my guy? Different story. Deeply troubled childhood, major traumatic life experiences, general distrust of people and for good reason, battles depressive tendencies, and just a smidge bi-polar. I understand, but only from osmosis. So I probably don't really understand.

    I know, though, that having this outlet -- for all of us, big issues or not -- can be so very helpful. Best of luck with the therapy. I'm on my way to a couch sometime soon, too.

  21. A few weeks ago, I went to see my doctor for a checkup. And he had a medical student intern with him, and he introduced me to her as, "One of my patients who is an anti-depressant success story."

    It was kinda weird.

    But, it's true.

    Some of us get dealt the "my parents beat the shit out of me" card, and the "my ex-husband cheated on me three times" card, and the "my ex-boyfriend tried to strangle me and is a cokehead" card, and the "two unplanned pregnancies and a miscarriage" card.

    Well, that last one, I probably dealt myself.

    Nonetheless, I've totally been "not okay" myself. Get thee to the therapist. Find the stuff that makes you want to stay alive (for me, it was having a good playlist, I shit you not, My Chemical Romance's "I'm not Okay" came between me and death).

    And remember you aren't alone. There are lots of us damaged fucked up people out here, just struggling to get by with a little help from our friends/meds/therapists/loved ones.

  22. You're not ok in an ok kind of way. You'll make it. If you need the help, get it. Otherwise, keep writing about it. We'll be here . . .

  23. I'm sorry you heaved your soup. And I'm sorry that you're feeling Not OK.

    I believe that just about EVERYONE has felt Not OK at some point in their lives, especially if they are in touch with their emotions and whatnot.

    I get the exhaustion of trying to find a therapist that you click with.

    Also? I'm sorry that I am a TOTAL GUM CRACKER. OMG. It's SUCH a bad habit, I know, I KNOW. I won't ever chew gum around you, though.

    Or, at least not when you have a sharp implement within reach.

    Feel better.

  24. Dude. I totally left a comment earlier. I swear. Don't know what happened.

    Of course, it was brilliant and insightful and surely would have moved you to joyous tears. But, that moment has passed, so now you have to make do with this less-than-A-material make-up comment:

    To continue the theme others have brought up ... Pretty much everybody is Not OK - at least sometimes. The ones who are OK all the time are liars or sociopaths.

    I have been reading your blog enough to know that you, Gwen, have been dealing with enough shit to push most people over a very deep end. But you still hold it together. And, my god, you are a great writer. I hope you will continue to share all of these things - good and bad - with us. But I will also continue to hope for good things for you.