Overwhelmed Drama

The feelings of intense, selfishness, and a tad bit loony has been my mood for the past year. It’s like a dynamite of fireworks going off inside my body, but mostly inside my brain. There isn’t anything…big or small…that doesn’t seem like a tragic event. Everything in life is overwhelming. I feel like poop that has taken a gigantic poop on top of another gigantic poop. Being that there is so much poop, AKA shit, going on in my life, I firmly decided that my life sucks. It sucks so much monkey balls that I’m starting to believe that because it is so bad… the universe is getting ready to open up some grandiose wonderful things into my life. Because life screwing me so hard in the ass must mean something GREAT is about to come.

However, despite all that positive speak about my life sucking right now ONLY because something great is about to happen, I can’t help be honest and say that this form of optimism could just be the drugs talking. Because, that’s right, my readers…(all ten of you) I’m on some killer drugs. Killer in the sense that if I don’t take them, chances are pretty good I could die. Maybe not right away…but soon.

Like forty years from now or something.

I went to the doctor last week for hives. FOR HIVES. The doctor takes my blood pressure and is all, “Woman, I don’t know how you are sitting here so calmly, your blood pressure is through the roof. I’m sending you next door to the ER.”

That’s not usually the words you’d like to hear from your doctor when you are only there for HIVES. Yet, there I was with hives and she’s sending me over to the emergency room.

And I’m all, “Of course, I’m going to the ER.”
I’m all about the theatrics, people.


After an all day visit at the ER which included chest X-rays, tremendous amount of blood being drawn and some male strippers who happened to visit me because I was about to die, of course…I was finally released and told to come back the next day to see my doctor.

I left with absolutely nothing for my hives. Not even Benadryl!

So I did what any mature adult would do, I cried in my car and called The Boyfriend so he could also hear me cry. (Why cry alone when it can be heard by many?)

I finally calmed myself down to drive home and recovered from being a sniveling cry baby to just a whimpering adult whiner.

The next day, the doctor ran more tests and then happily gave me a long list of drugs, one drug in particular has me feeling a little psychedelic with some short term memory loss.

But I’m totally feeling groovy though, man.

I also have had some weird and crazy thoughts, thoughts in which I would like to refer to as “epiphanies”.


This morning, on the drive into work, stuck next to The Boyfriend who is absorbed in listening to his book on tape INSTEAD of talking to me, I had a few such epiphanies:

  • The Boyfriend hates me. Secretly, though. Like he’s not going to broadcast it to the world and be all, “I HATE MY GIRLFRIEND!” No, he’s smarter than that. He hates me in secret. I know this because he listens to books on tape on our way to work in the morning, he plays video games and he would rather go out and have a beer with his friend (a friend in which I believe has a huge crush on The Boyfriend. Are they having an affair? This must be figured out immediately.) than hang out with me and discuss the future of our relationship. Do we even have one? We are OLD. Doesn’t he care that we are old? He probably hates me because I’m old.
  • I can’t get a handle on my household chores. There’s just too much stuff. STUFF everywhere. Plus, we have these two HUGE brown couches that take over the entire living room. They belong to The Boyfriend and he will not be reasonable in at least placing one downstairs in the den. NO. I hate the couches and  therefore this is another indication that The Boyfriend hates me.
  • My children also hate me because they’ve decided to become teenagers and it seems they only need to speak to me when it comes to asking for my car and my money.
  • My parents love my sister and brother more than me. It’s probably because The Boyfriend secretly hates me.
  • My hair is ugly and falling out. Probably feels the pain of The Boyfriend hating me secretly.
  • I’m simply overwhelmed with a list of things that are important and are life changing…and not in a positive way. I check one thing off said list, and then four more get added. I know logically I’m loved and cared about, yet, I am struggling with feeling as if I’m dealing with all this shit alone.


That’s where I am, dear readers. This is just the stuff I can share publicly.  In my world of loopy (yet groovy) craziness, my waiting on lab and test results, dealing with my heart issues, I’m always on the verge of tears. And yet, this heart thing isn’t scaring me too bad. I’m actually sorta tickled about it because despite all these problems I may be having with my heart, the hard core fact is that I do, in fact, have one.

So take that, Ex-Husband. You said I didn’t even have one.