The other side

The other side of the somewhat-happy post and somewhat-happy weekend is, of course, the downside. I have had some very severe moods - especially on Saturday morning a few days ago. I was very excitable, worried, anxious, agitated. I couldn't stop running around cleaning things. It was very unpleasant because I felt angry and confused, not motivated or accomplished. Although it did feel good to get a ton of cleaning done, I felt sick while I was doing it.

I was really rude to J. I felt out of control of my actions, my hands were shaking and my eyes were twitching. The whole previous week I had felt like a sack of potatoes. To "suddenly" feel like there were angry ants in my pants was less than fun. As the day progressed, I mellowed out a bit. Sunday and Monday were a bit more relaxed.

Today, however, has not been a good day. I got to work and immediately things started going wrong. Small mistakes in our most recent publication. I can't let them go. It kills me to know that preventable mistakes were made. I left work to pick up my birth control prescription at the Planned Parenthood - always a horrible experience. While there, I saw them turn away a girl who had just found out she was pregnant (I thought that was the point of PP?). Then, I got borderline sexually- harassed by the security guard, who followed me to my car, grinning sheepishly before remarking "Behave yourself." Directly after that, I tried to avoid hitting a homeless man who was walking next to my car, when he abruptly changed directions and stepped in front of my car. I hit the brakes, because I am trying to be a considerate person. I didn't even want to take a chance that I might would hit him. Then, he started yelling and cursing at me.

So I yelled and cursed back. I told a homeless man "Fuck You". Not that he could hear me, but he could see me. I am a horrible, horrible person. There I was, sitting in my new-ish beautiful Camry, in my work dress and high heels, on my way to my job that I am lucky to have, and I can do nothing with peace or gratitude except flip off and yell at a man who is most likely battling a mental illness. I've been anxious and distant all day. I feel horrible. I came home and cleaned for hours and hours. Of course, it's such a mess that it looks like I haven't done anything.

But seriously. I was just getting ready to share my thoughts with J. (we had been ignoring each other the whole night) and try to make up and communicate. Then his friend comes and starts banging on the door. Don't get me wrong, I want to be an open home. I want to help people in need (his friend is trying to overcome addiction and alcoholism and needed J's guidance). But it was just bad timing. I made a rude remark to J. I don't really get along with his friend, although I care about him - I just don't know what to say to him. And we were just sitting there in awkward silence. And then they left - I'm really angry and upset. I want to leave and fly to Bermuda and be waitress and sit on the beach and read on my days off. Really. That is what I want to do. I think I could do that for years and years and never miss this. It seems as though I'll never get to settle down, so I might as well find a way to do it for myself.

Also, it's wonderful that I'm probably bipolar. It's just great - it means that any children I would potentially have with J. (if they weren't 6-legged victims of lithium poisoning from the meds I'll have to get on) will be bipolar or schizo or alocholics cause both of our families have horrible mental health genes. Just when I start getting comfortable with the idea of settling down with a house, a husband, a dog, a family, a dishwasher, a patio, I feel like it's getting stripped away from me. Thank goodness I'm no Christian anymore, or I would have a few choice words for that sarcastic lord above.

Hopefully another happy post soon. I started this blog to be fully honest and to document my real feelings and experiences, the good and the bad. And that's what I'm going to keep doing. Not every blog can be a perfectly photographed documentation of cupcakes and hand-bound books, you know.