Left Only to My Own Devices

Well, the Geodon my shrink prescribed knocked me out and caused violent tremors in my hands. The Abilify before that gave me wicked hot flashes, which don’t sound terrible until you have them. So, I decided, since neither the Abilify nor the Geodon worked for me, to give up the medication hunt.

I just don’t have time for the adjustment periods. I don’t think that shrinks really comprehend that SOME people that see them are NOT on disability and have to go to work. I complain about side effects and I just get told to wait them out for a month or two? My falling asleep at my desk, having violent tremors, and melting on a daily basis is unacceptable for a workplace. I can’t take something that will cause me to lose my job.

At least unmedicated I know I’ll get out of bed and go to work. It’s routine. I can stick to a routine. I know lots of people can’t when they’re in a very deep depression, but it’s a skill that I learned from my mom: how to do the minimum.

You get up, you look presentable, you go to work, and when you get home you can fall apart, so long as when the alarm goes off you get up again.

That’s what I watched through my childhood. It’s not so terrible an existence if you can pop in some diversity: a forced social interaction with friends here, a reluctant date there. The hard part is those little bits of diversity, because you don’t WANT to do them, but if you don’t it gets real monotonous and further depressing. Fortunately, I’m pretty good at annoying myself with the company of others, which I fully enjoy but not until I actually get there.

My shrink was disappointed. That’s okay, because I was disappointed in my shrink. I explicitly told her that I wanted to treat JUST my depression and that it had to work with my job and NOT be sedative. We discussed this upfront, and the things she gave me had terrible debilitating side effects and sedation! It’s not right for a shrink not to listen to my wants….

Geodon treats MANIA not DEPRESSION. A quick google search turned that up. I was going to overlook it, because maybe the cost of stifling my depression is a little bit less mania, but then I fell asleep at my desk at work and the tremors started. So I took the weekend to get back off the Geodon… and decided I’m better on my own.

I dunno that things will get any better, but at least I’m awake and in control of my body movements.

In other news, much to my dismay the guy from Friday night has texted me a few times since the event. I definitely thought that the disappointment would be on both ends, but apparently not. I’m trying to be distant without hurting his feelings. I just don’t know how to kindly tell someone you don’t wanna see them because the sex was bad… Seems like a thing you don’t say… You bottle it up and push it down with all your other feelings, adding to that tight little ball in your chest that will someday become cancer.

I could lie. I have considered lying… telling him some elaborate excuse to not see him involving my bipolar and shit… but I feel like he wouldn’t care if I were a crazy person… which makes it worse. I really wish this guy had some bad quality besides being lousy in the sack… It’s a shitty thing to shun someone for, but OUR GENITALS DON’T LINE UP… so it’s not really something we can work on or something I care to overlook. I refuse to fuck missionary position the rest of my life… or any part of it if I can help it.

I’m just conflicted about how to proceed. He’s a really nice guy and if we could fuck better I’d be down… but Darwinism has spoken, and we can’t… so what the fuck do I do? I could try to friend zone him, but honestly I find that worse than telling him he’s bad in the sack.

I dunno. I’ll meditate on it more. I just feel like he deserves something more than me being weird and eventually not speaking to him, but at the same time I have no idea what else to do…

Suggestions welcome.

I went with the crazy meds fucking me up. He was nice about it. I hate that he was nice about it.

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And… I’m Out

SHIT THAT CROSSES THE LINE:
Not taking shit I say seriously.
Withholding important information.

Last night I went to a movie with SupaNerd. The last entry toyed with the idea that I wasn’t sure that I liked him, so much as I wanted to like him. That thought hadn’t left my mind, but he asked and I like having plans. So we went to see Zootopia. I actually saw it yesterday morning with mothership, but it’s a really good movie. It’s a really good movie about discrimination, and equality, and I was really impressed with the whole thing. I hadn’t heard any reviews, and no one I knew was excited to see it, so I was just going because I like having breakfast with the mothership and watching a movie. Anyways, SupaNerd didn’t get off work till 8, so by the time he swung by to pick me up we had limited viewing options. Fortunately it’s a good movie.

Now, I know that I have a lot of pet peeves. Too many: I’ll throw it out there that I have too many pet peeves, but if I tell you that I have pet peeve that’s not a playful invitation to irritate me until I want to bash your teeth out with a brick. In fact, I would not recommend that. I have been known to enact physical violence on people that poke at a pet peeve. I don’t have a good tolerance for it.

That being said, when SupaNerd first tried to touch my curly hair, I told him I don’t play that. I also let him know that I smacked a bitch at work for touching my hair. It’s a thing. I like space. Stay the fuck away from my face and/or hair. I was nice about it. I didn’t snap at him. I didn’t swat his hand away. I didn’t punch him in the throat. I later decided that I should have prolly punched him in the throat, cuz all he did was proceed to poke at my face and hair. I hate that shit. I hate it so much…

I kind of hate people touching me at all. For whatever reason, he feels the need to do it constantly. My mom says my dad was like that, too. Just had to touch her ALL THE TIME. Why? Why can’t you just be a human being over there in your own human being bubble? There’s a time and place, motherfucker. You don’t need to touch me all the time. Since he was a such a fuckwad about my face and hair pet peeve, I allowed him to touch my thigh, instead. I still didn’t like it. I still hated it. I still wanted to beat his face in with something hard and sandpapery. Still, it was better than him trying to fuck with my face.

Another pet peeve is being OVERLY cheap. You wanna use a coupon on our date? Great. Whip that shit out. What else you got a coupon for? You wanna argue with a waitress about the DOLLAR that it costs to sub out french fries for sweet potato fries? Too cheap. He managed to con her into sending out a refill on my coke cray-early so he could have a free coke, since he was ordering water. Really? REALLY? 

Now, if he was cray broke and counting every penny, I could understand being cheap, but I still think it’s some rude ass shit to argue with a powerless waitress about the price of Coca-Cola and fries… Thing is, though, he’s not broke. He’s got a really good job. We discussed this previously because he eats shrimp and scallops all the damn time. I can’t afford shrimp and scallops on the daily, but he can. Can he afford that because he’s arguing with waitresses over a dollar? No. I don’t think so. It’s unnecessarily cheap, and it’s motherfucking rude. That waitress didn’t make the prices. I wanted to curl up and die… 

So, then we were watching previews. There’s this movie coming out called Storks. Looks cute, but makes me cringe cuz it’s about babies. Out of nowhere, SupaNerd says: “That’s how I’m going to teach Johnny about where babies come from.” Who’s Johnny? I, too, was curious. Nephew? I know his sister has a kid. Little brother? Cousin, perhaps?

NOPE. HE HAS A KID.

Now, don’t misread me. I don’t mind people with kids. I’ve dated a number of guys that had kids. I love other people’s kids. I could totally be a step-mom. What pissed me off is that it’s been too fucking long to have not mentioned this previously. His defense was simply that he forgot to mention it. Whoops.

Fuck that noise.

If you can forget to mention that you have procreated… what else have you neglected to tell me? Are you married? Are you married to like seven different people across the US who all have the same story of you leaving your wife and six children behind? Are you a felon? Do you have the Herp? Are you a Russian sleeper cell sent here by Vladimir Putin to recruit me? Are you the leader of a new cult and you need me to be the creepy serial-killery enforcer at your side? Do you sacrifice infants to the dark lord under a blood moon to gain the knowledge of the universe and the powers of night?

This kid is like new, too. New enough to need a talk about where babies come from. Like… A, when does he ever see little Johnny? Is that REALLY why he goes back to Wichita every other week? 2, Why does the mother have full custody? It’s not the 80s anymore… a father can get full custody, especially if the mother is as cray as he’d have me believe she is. D, HOW DO YOU FUCKING FORGET TO MENTION THAT YOU HAVE OFFSPRING?! That’s a big thing.

Also, he tried to fucking talk to me during the movie… at a fucking theater.
I was so irritated that the sound of his laughter made me want to kill him.

It was all just the topping on the bad ju-ju cake.
I can’t trust him. I can’t tolerate his touchy-feely habit. I already felt like he was clingy and needy. He’s cheap to the point of rudeness. He makes gross noises when he eats, breathes, or generally exists. (Mucus problem? Idk.) He talks during movies. I’d rather have been on a play-date with a 6 year old. It was so bad.

So… I thought about it, and ghosting him wasn’t on the table, because I was in too deep. My friend in California agreed. My friend in Australia said I should just use the kid as a card to play, since a normal person might call it off because they “want to take that journey with someone for the first time.” Which is gross…

I didn’t wanna lie… so I ghosted him, and I don’t give a fuck.

This guy stood me up once. Then ignored me for a month. Then acts like a  freaking needy child AND FORGETS TO TELL ME HE HAS A CHILD. Is it shitty to ghost people? Yes. It’s shitty and total fuckery. And I regret nothing.

I don’t have time for the “but why”  and all the attempts to justify everything they did wrong. Even if you don’t answer their questions, they try to justify everything… and then they might get mad. He might secretly be a psycho. He’s got a shitty “I’m always right” attitude anyways. You should hear the shit he says about his sister just because she’s a single mother. So then a bitch starts to think… would he get more angry if I ignore him or if I tell him it’s over. What if he shows up to my house in an angry fit? These are the things a woman has to consider. Fortunately, I have four dogs and I say creepy serial-killery shit all the time, so he’s naturally a bit wary, but I wouldn’t write him off. He could still snap.

So… that’s the end. I’m out.

I deleted my dating profiles. I’m okay alone. I like being alone. I have honestly missed not having to text people. Yeah, I’d like someone to do stuff with, but I still hold out hope that one of these days I’ll meet someone when I’m out doing the stuff I like to do, and we can build off that…