The Lights Are On, But Nobody's Home

I've heard that saying so many times in my life - not directed at me, or anything, just you know - in passing. Now, you see or meet people like this all the time. You swear you can hear the wind rushing through one ear and out the other with them. There's just nothing going on in there.

It occurred to me today that I have the absolute opposite problem.

It must appear to people that I am of the "lights are on, but nobody's home" variety, though. I mean, it just must. I am expressionless almost all of the time. I have no telling emotions to give anyone a clue that there's even a single thought floating through my mind at all. Only someone who really, really knows my eyes would be able to tell what I'm feeling - and even then it would be hard.

Inside I am a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas that I can never shut off. I want to do, say, feel, act, so many things. My body doesn't respond like it's supposed to, though. I feel like I'm a prisoner. I scream at myself internally to get off my ass and ACT - move, say, emote...but nothing happens. I just sit and my body is in this terrible zone. I really have to fight it to do anything.

I know it's the medicine that I'm taking that's making me feel like this, and yet I cannot muster up the ... anything ... to call a doctor and make an appointment to talk to them about this. I need to get off of the xanax xr - and perhaps the lexapro, too. Just go drug free and see what it feels like to FEEL something again.

On the outside I have put 40 pounds on my body that wasn't there the day my doctor told me - assured me - that these medicines would NOT make me gain weight. I know for a solid fact that when I lose weight, look good, and feel good about how I look - that my panic attacks all but disappear. My anxiety lifts with every pound lost - and yet fucktard doctors give me this medicine that makes me gain weight. Dumb fucks. God, and he seemed so goddamn certain that I wasn't going to gain weight from it. When I told him I was gaining he said it was because I'd cut back on smoking, and that it certainly wasn't the medicines. Ideally I'd like to stop taking the Xanax XR and the Lexapro, and just go back to taking regular xanax as needed. Hell, the medicines aren't doing much, that's for sure. I am still totally phobic of driving a car, totally phobic of exercise, my heart, showers, smoking, walking, sleeping...and you may have noticed a few new phobias in there - yes, they didn't start until after I started taking these medicines that were supposed to make my anxiety go away. How about a big WHAT THE FUCK???

I feel like my life is falling apart around me. I have no control over anything. I especially have no control of my children who love to take advantage of me, mock me, say nasty things about me when I've pissed them off - which seems quite often lately. Grande will no longer be going to regular school - I've come to the conclusion that it's just not working for him so why put him through the misery. So - we make this decision after he's skipped school for a week, and another week is going by and he's not really made any moves to get started on independent home schooling. Of course, we will have to get that all started for him - and hell, probably do his work for him, too.

And when I say "we" - I mean Venti, because lately I can't even bring myself to make a goddamned phone call when I need to.

Venti is in Chicago right now and although he'll be home soon enough - man, do I really miss him. It doesn't sound like he's having a whole lot of fun there, but at least the scenery is different for him. He's taking a class. I wish I was taking a class.

I'm not doing much of anything lately, to be honest. I get up, change and feed Short Decaf before turning on Blue's Clues or something equally mind-numbing, will the coffee pot to hurry the fuck up, sit down and check my email, drink my coffee (starting drinking it sans sugar), and then I have nothing to do - or nothing that I want to do - until Venti gets home at night. I pretty much walk around life in an effort to make sure that Short Decaf is fed, entertained, and clean. He's such a precious little boy. But, that's my life.

Books help pass the time when I feel like reading them.

The name of the book I just finished reading about 15 minutes ago was The Time Traveler's Wife. It was okay. I wish I wouldn't have bought it because I know I'll never want to read it again. It was a complex story, and I don't think I could write a better one than it - but eh, I just didn't really enjoy the ending. I'm a happy ending sort of person.

So many books. I'd really rather be writing, but I don't have much of an urge to do that lately. My panic/pregnancy book is about 3/4's of the way done, and I could easily finish it if I just opened the damn thing up and started typing - and yet, I don't. And I don't know why. From birth I've NEVER been the type of person to finish a project. I'm really into starting them, though. Before Venti left he dug out his really cool art set for me because I had a notion that I wanted to do some painting or something. It's like five days later, and I have yet to paint anything.

I often wonder if I'm depressed. There must be a test online to determine that - but, to be honest, I don't need one. I'm not depressed - I'm fucking bored. I need some friends. Venti wishes that I had one really good friend other than him who REALLY gets me. I do have that friend, but she's in Pennsylvania working the night shift at some warehouse at the moment. My sister. I miss her. A lot more than I ever imagined being able to miss her.

There's not much of a life for me here in Washington yet. I'm sure I'll make one as the years pass and we grow some roots, but for right now I have nothing here. Because I cannot walk anywhere or drive anywhere I only have one view, and that's of nothing but big evergreen trees surrounding my house. Well - not MY house - but the house we get to stay in for the next few months at a ridiculously low cost. I wonder how much such a limited view takes a toll on a person? I mean, if my view was vast - mountains, water, the town - maybe I'd feel differently, but now I feel like I'm in a green cocoon where I really have to strain to see what the sky looks like during the day. Yes, I do go outside - to smoke. Every now and then I walk around the yard for a little bit, but then I have to quickly go back inside before Short Decaf finds a pair of scissors or a magic marker or something.

He has successfully locked me out of the house once already. I had to kick the door in, and Venti had to patch it with wood putty and nails. He has also attempted to lock me out of the house about a hundred times. So - smoking outside isn't a whole lot of fun. I take my keys with me and stand on the porch with my foot against the door, which is cracked open just a bit, just to ensure I never have to kick in the damn door again.

So, I have been thinking about hypnosis again. I got the number of a doctor here in my town who says that one of his specialties is panic disorder, and he also specializes in hypnotherapy. Man, I'd just LOVE that. I would love, love, love to be hypnotized and have the insurance company have to pay for it. I would also love for it to help with the phobias.

To be honest, I know that just TALKING to someone is going to help. I don't get to talk very often. I'm more like the designated listener in the family. Anyway, the last time I had a hideous driving phobia I was over it within three weeks after just talking to a psychologist. That was really cool, and got me a big chunk of my life back. I hope this guy is taking new patients, and I hope he's kind, gentle, and interested. And most of all, patient.

Well, I've written a lot, and I needed to - so whoever is reading this - thanks for the time. If anyone is wondering??? Yes, indeed, I am okay.