we're sinking like stones. All that we fought for, those places we've gone. All of us are done for.
There are times when the world and everyone in it are there to make you feel better and you never knew how wonderful life could be. Yeah. In Disney movies. For the rest of us real people, there are days, weeks even that seem to be conspiring with the fates to do the most damage they can to the good mood you managed to kick your own ass into. Just as you get out of the downward spiral and start waking up before noon again with a semi-positive..okay well at least not as negative view of the world, once again the karmic deities on high come around to slap your ass right back down.
Case in point:
I had managed to throw myself out of bed long enough to go out of the house with Kara and mom. We went for food. Let me back that one up. Mom came home when Kara and I were going to leave to get food. Mom had a really good day at work so she came home and cried. Yeah. That happens. She didn't have my dad to tell about it. So Kara comes down stairs and hits me and asks what I did to Mom. I believe she was joking and trying to make light of the situation because at that time she didn't know what was going on. As far as I know.
I had already invited her along with us. Didn't ask Kara. Just kind of did it.
Okay now to back it up further, For lunch I made Tatter-tots. I wasn't really interested in anything food-like. Nothing seems worth the effort of eating it. So I just don't want to anymore, but that is something different for a later day. While getting the tots, I burnt my hand on the pan. Only one finger (left ring) got any of it. A small blister formed and, as best as possible, I had taken it out of the line up of worker fingers for a little while. I would say, babying it just so it doesn't get any worse.
Back to the mom and Kara thing. We get home and it took a while to park because of Peter being home. Then when we get out, I put my hand on the car so I don't slip on the think and icy snow. Net thing I know, Mom slams my fingers in the door. I did rather well containing myself and not screaming and getting pissed and wailing about my hand. I just needed the door to open. So she does. And I pull my battered fingers to me and hold them, in the strangest yet best place and only place anyone ever seems to put their hand when it has been shut in a door, under my arm.
Mom says "are you okay? are you okay? let me see."
And to this, I can only think of one thing to say. And so I did. "Fuck off"
I haven't even looked at my hand. then I'm told by Kara to get the food from the backseat, which I have to unlock since mom locked it after she let my hand free. Now mom is pissed and goes to the door while I, having no fully working hands, must scramble in the back of Kara's car. Mom gets pissy and says she wants to be let in the house.
I later have to go and apologize to my mother for her shutting my hand in the door because I upset her when I told her to fuck off.
The pattern from my glove fibers was imprinted into my fingers for several hours. I was not happy. They still hurt.
I was trying to sleep and Kara came up and watched Mama Mia. At the end of it, I woke up and couldn't sleep. As usual. So since then I've been up and trying to make myself as bored as possible. I played games, I watched tv and I painted my nails.
I figured that If I was going to do anything today I should take a shower and then at least I would be clean. The water was too hot at first and I hurt my burn and had a total of 4 working fingers to use for showering. Middle, index, thumb and thumb. Pinky fingers don't count because they can't do shit on their own.
I get out of the shower, my new paint job has already peeled. I go into the basement. Pissed off. Looking for my white shirt that I was going to hand wash. Calvin Klein. One of my own good shirts that fits and isn't a tee. I can't find it. Open the drier. There it is, Right next to a bright fucking pink shirt. And can you guess what color it is? My while shirt... take a guess at what color my white shirt is. So I look around and we have no bleach. I'm just thrilled at this point.
By now, I'm getting tired but don't know what is best. Should I fight the sleep and then be pissy all day or get maybe a couple hours and be pissy all day. So times like these, I know that fate and the alignment of the planets and various other variables have all come together to make my life hell. I have come to it. This is Hell. I was a horrible person and I have gone to hell. Once you hit the depression it never goes away. Me and Dean. I'll be taking his path in Hell, and I don't mean on the racks. I mean option 2.
Case in point:
I had managed to throw myself out of bed long enough to go out of the house with Kara and mom. We went for food. Let me back that one up. Mom came home when Kara and I were going to leave to get food. Mom had a really good day at work so she came home and cried. Yeah. That happens. She didn't have my dad to tell about it. So Kara comes down stairs and hits me and asks what I did to Mom. I believe she was joking and trying to make light of the situation because at that time she didn't know what was going on. As far as I know.
I had already invited her along with us. Didn't ask Kara. Just kind of did it.
Okay now to back it up further, For lunch I made Tatter-tots. I wasn't really interested in anything food-like. Nothing seems worth the effort of eating it. So I just don't want to anymore, but that is something different for a later day. While getting the tots, I burnt my hand on the pan. Only one finger (left ring) got any of it. A small blister formed and, as best as possible, I had taken it out of the line up of worker fingers for a little while. I would say, babying it just so it doesn't get any worse.
Back to the mom and Kara thing. We get home and it took a while to park because of Peter being home. Then when we get out, I put my hand on the car so I don't slip on the think and icy snow. Net thing I know, Mom slams my fingers in the door. I did rather well containing myself and not screaming and getting pissed and wailing about my hand. I just needed the door to open. So she does. And I pull my battered fingers to me and hold them, in the strangest yet best place and only place anyone ever seems to put their hand when it has been shut in a door, under my arm.
Mom says "are you okay? are you okay? let me see."
And to this, I can only think of one thing to say. And so I did. "Fuck off"
I haven't even looked at my hand. then I'm told by Kara to get the food from the backseat, which I have to unlock since mom locked it after she let my hand free. Now mom is pissed and goes to the door while I, having no fully working hands, must scramble in the back of Kara's car. Mom gets pissy and says she wants to be let in the house.
I later have to go and apologize to my mother for her shutting my hand in the door because I upset her when I told her to fuck off.
The pattern from my glove fibers was imprinted into my fingers for several hours. I was not happy. They still hurt.
I was trying to sleep and Kara came up and watched Mama Mia. At the end of it, I woke up and couldn't sleep. As usual. So since then I've been up and trying to make myself as bored as possible. I played games, I watched tv and I painted my nails.
I figured that If I was going to do anything today I should take a shower and then at least I would be clean. The water was too hot at first and I hurt my burn and had a total of 4 working fingers to use for showering. Middle, index, thumb and thumb. Pinky fingers don't count because they can't do shit on their own.
I get out of the shower, my new paint job has already peeled. I go into the basement. Pissed off. Looking for my white shirt that I was going to hand wash. Calvin Klein. One of my own good shirts that fits and isn't a tee. I can't find it. Open the drier. There it is, Right next to a bright fucking pink shirt. And can you guess what color it is? My while shirt... take a guess at what color my white shirt is. So I look around and we have no bleach. I'm just thrilled at this point.
By now, I'm getting tired but don't know what is best. Should I fight the sleep and then be pissy all day or get maybe a couple hours and be pissy all day. So times like these, I know that fate and the alignment of the planets and various other variables have all come together to make my life hell. I have come to it. This is Hell. I was a horrible person and I have gone to hell. Once you hit the depression it never goes away. Me and Dean. I'll be taking his path in Hell, and I don't mean on the racks. I mean option 2.