The Butts of Our Lives

[ihaveasquid]

The real upside to depression is that after a while, a shower two days in a row feels like a real success and a luxury.

[ihaveasquid]

I still pray sometimes, when I'm especially overwhelmed. It was installed as a pressure valve when I was young. The only outlet for feelings that didn't also involve destroying things I loved. In between prayers, I ripped up drawings amd poems. Unraveled favorite headbands, and gave away my best doll. Ran down the attic stairs with a prism against my eyes to ensure a fall that was anything but accidental.

When I succumb to prayer as an atheist, I feel like an adult thumbsucker. Like it's going to make my teeth crooked. Make my brain crooked. But sometimes it is easier to stop fighting against nonbelief for just a moment.

[ihaveasquid]

My face has been breaking out like crazy. I need to start keeping track of when I shower. I don’t think it’s as often as I think it is. 

[ihaveasquid]

I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness and didn’t leave until I was 32 in 2015.

[ihaveasquid]

In my house we have these two very soft blankets, one  lives in my room, the other is for the couch. When both are not being used, they may be layered on top of each other for Double Blanket. Double Blanket is soothing and soft, and somehow exponentially more comforting than just one blanket. Double Blanket is rare, because usually at least one blanket is being used. Double Blanket is a gift. Today I gave the gift of Double Blanket to my housemate because she was feeling, somehow, both her feelings and my feelings. But then one of her lovers came over and smelled it up with stale cigarettes and Febreeze. Now I have to wash the blankets before I can even have Single Blanket.  I’m much more annoyed by this than I should be. This has somehow made me angry. The flagrant disrespect for Double Blanket. 

This has zero percent to do with me feeling like everyone but me is finding love, of course. This isn’t me finding a silly thing to focus on instead of what I’m really feeling. 

[ihaveasquid]

Whelp. An online group I’m a part of that exists, in part, to support each other with talk about dating and mental health, etc, just told me that I really need to be talking to my therapist about my garbage instead of them because they aren’t equiped. Which was both disappointing and validating, somehow?

[ihaveasquid]

My failures get louder at night. The list of incomplete tasks echoes like distant thunder and I know the storm is coming.

I will drown in the rain.

[ihaveasquid]

Someday I hope somebody loves me as much as I love my cat. And if I'm really lucky, as much as my cat loves wet food.

[ihaveasquid]

Nothing like your cat eating your roommates hair, the hair getting caught in his butt, and then he has to scoot his butt around until the poo drops off the end of the hair.

[ihaveasquid]

I’ve hit that narrow time frame of depression where I get weirdly functional. Like,  nothing is fun any more so I might as well take out the garbage, you know?