rat-girl-rambles

[rat-girl-rambles]

midnight retrospective

Its midnight on a Wednesday, thursday I guess, and I'm wide awake. I'm not the type to stay up late. I'm the flavor of mentally ill that enjoys sleep a little too much. I'm careful to always try to have my mornings now, to be up and at em and not "sleep away the day." I know how things begin to feel stuck if I let myself slip on the little things.

Anyways, I'm up and brainstorming ways to hate myself a little bit less. I'm not up because of the scary movie I saw earlier tonight with a couple friends, I didn't feel too spooked at all really. I was social tonight, I did well enough at work, I ate enough, I went through all the right motions and did all the right steps. To be honest, I've been swinging in and out of low level panic attacks for the last couple of days. I'm starting to understand why people don't stay friends with their exes. Find yourself people who love you, break their heart, and then stick around their lives to remind you what good people they are. I must be a fucking sadist.

Brainstorming ways not to hate myself - off to a great start. Let's start off easy, what did I like about today...

I got caught in the rain today. It was actually pretty annoying but something about getting drenched in the rain feels really nice and cathartic in the moment. It's only after, when you're stuck in those cold wet clothes that you remember it's not as fun as you thought. I guess I'm like that about a lot of things. I can be short-sighted and impulsive. I'd like to look out for my future self a little bit more. Sometimes I feel like no ones looking out for her. Sometimes I feel like it's only a matter of time before she's gone, really.

And time to bring myself back. I always do that. My panic comes on as one thought that floods the rest of me and says "sit here- sit here forever and think about what you've done." And then the rest of me says "no, ma'am, you can't stay here- move forward. Have the thought and for fucks sake just move forward." This back and forth is so painfully not metaphorical that I've come to the only logical conclusion-- I need to be medicated.

I have goals for myself - I want to get medicated and get therapy. I want to write more (boo-yah look at me writing, goddamn Jane Austen over here). I want to travel- plan a whole big international trip. It's a solo trip. So I can become self sufficient and like myself- I think it's a good plan. Honestly, it feels like the greatest scheme I've ever hatched when I'm feeling manic. I want to learn Adobe Illustrator and learn a new language and workout and all the other generic bullshit people want to do. It's not like I'm special. A mantra I set for myself back in high school - you are not the exception that proves the rule.

We're working on Q2 retrospectives at work. When we look back on campaigns and everything from Quarter 2 and see what worked and what didn't and how we could do shit better in Q3. I guess I should do that with myself. Working on yourself just seems so exhausting. And who's there to validate you on a job well done? Myself? Yeah, because that opinion means so much to me lmao.

That's what's not working I guess, the "negative self talk" like I imagine my (nonexistent) therapist would call it. Humor and anger are two great gateway drugs to never actually having to feel your feelings. Highly recommend.

I'll write here more. Maybe it does something? Placebo effect if nothing else. Well I'm bored of my own thoughts. Insert outro here.

[rat-girl-rambles]

Do you ever look back on things that happened to you and get this eerie feeling that they all happened to someone else? I hate rhetorical questions. People should just say what they mean and mean what they fucking say. I don't believe we "owe" many people much in this life, but I do feel you owe that to the people who love you. I'm getting side tracked- let me start over.

Sometimes, I look back on things that happened to me and get this eerie feeling that they all happened to someone else. Like that sad 95 pound girl who was always tired and angry and cold and hurt- that's just some girl. I mean, don't get me wrong- I remember it all. I remember how miserable and alone but also beautifully romanticized in my own suffering I was. And I remember what a shit show it was to get better. But looking back, it feels like I watched someone else do it. Someone who I should've been a better support system for, or spoken up for, or just had the good sense to help in more ways than I knew how. When I was sick, I mean really sick- that's not someone I'll ever really think of as 'myself' I hope. Some versions of me just don't feel like they could be at all.

I guess I'm delusional is all. Sometimes, when I get self destructive, in the aftermath it feels as though I was the aggressor. When I look and see what I've done and I'm shaking and coming back into the realm of reality, I feel like like I've been holding a gun up to the head of some sad scared 10 year old girl.

I think the closest I get to the person I actually think of myself as is when I feel grounded. Not in a high or a low, just truly grounded in reality.

Anyways, I've got to head to some stupid bar with my stupid friends, but today's actually been good. I made an old family recipe, got a lot of fresh air, did a workout, was relatively kind to myself. And know it's time to go be social. Look at her- the post child for a functioning adult.

[rat-girl-rambles]

Holden Caulfield & Jackie Paper

So, it's been a minute. It's hard to tell if I'm getting closer or further from myself, but I guess "self" is more or less my own construct so I guess it's more of a decision than a realization. That last sentence even made the whiney protagonist from Cather in the Rye roll his eyes. I couldn't remember his name. I thought of googling it but that felt inauthentic and like I was trying too hard for a Salinger reference.

Anyways, I'm a few months into a new job. Full time big girl benefits job. So, that's exciting. I actually like it. And in more than just an "it's nice to keep my brain preoccupied with things that aren't so doom and gloom" kinda way. It's not like I'm curing cancer or anything groundbreaking, but it's nice to be good at something. It's nice to not feel so useless.

I've thought about getting on antidepressants. Now that I have an actual income, I can't totally blame finances on my hesitance to therapy and meds. But everyone has bad days, right? We don't have to get into that.

What I want to write about is boys, but the idea that my own internal monologue won't pass the Bechdel test makes me sick to my stomach. The idea that with all my depressive episodes, manic choices, self-destructive actions- it's puppy love that's making me cry- that idea just makes me livid.

Holden Caulfield. That was the character I couldn't think of earlier. I love that name too, I'm almost mad at myself for not being able to remember it.

Anyways, I'm not sure if I'm getting better and I'm not sure if I want to. I think I'll start writing more. I don't know if I actually want to die, but I think about it often enough. I'm not sure how often most people think about it, but I assume not as often as I have been lately. My goal is more just to get better at handling this kind of stuff on my own.

I might have overshared with a boy I just cut out. I sent that song "Puff, the Magic Dragon" to him (just after the last time I cut him out lol) and he thought I 0ffed mys3lf. We just have a bit about the name "Jackie Paper" and I wasn't if he knew what it was from. But a children's song? What a weird way to leave a su1c1d3 note.

I'm drinking chamomile tea and writing a tumblr blog while it storms outside. Today I ate, worked out, talked to other humans, showered, got fresh air. I'm not exactly leaning over the ledge. It's not like people are worried about me. I think letting some old habits back in is a fair trade off to keep us all feeling good about where I'm at. We're all just getting by anyways, right?

[rat-girl-rambles]

I started posting poems, which feels kinda dumb. I'm a little old for the sad poems-tumblr blog phase of life. But I'm not too bothered by it.

I'm in a pretty good place today. I'm trying to write whether I feel good or bad. I'm not really trying to ~change~ my mood just regulating it maybe? or express myself at least. Anyways, I'm not on my sad girl shit today so maybe this post will be a bit boring. I guess finding boredom in content is a bit of a red flag, but ma nish t'nah.

So what's been up with me? I'm dog-sitting, which is always a little serotonin boost. My vaccine booster appointment got canceled because the pharmacy was out of doses but I'll get it next week. One of my toxic habits has been rearing her ugly pudgy-faced-underweight-body head more often (if you guessed the habit from the descriptor, I'm sorry). But I plan on quitting for New Years, which has proved my favorite resolution over the years. Then again, I'm not underweight anymore- it's not really urgent to my survival. But I know that's not the point, I want to be "healthy" and all that jazz. It's just been keeping me levelheaded and relaxed. It's hard to tell if I'm feeling good because of it, because I'm manic, or just because I'm actually grounded and functioning. But either way, I can kick toxic habits again and learn like myself without them, I have before and I will again.

In lighter news, I'm in final round interviews for a job that seems pretty cool. I'm also looking into grad programs and learning to code, because #womeninSTEM is hot girl shit. Also I'm interested in it, gotta follow that serotonin- y'all know how it is.

Going to try and add songs I vibe with to these blogs from now on - this are a few from my grounding self-hyping playlist.

[rat-girl-rambles]

Pink Lipgloss (Safety on)

I still crave attention like a child gone unnoticed

Batting eyelashes and playful punches

Windstorms nurture me because I let them

Feeding the flames

Open arms demand affection like an affliction

Why did I say that

Why did I do that

-

Offering sweet tea and jackets but bless her heart, is she spiteful!

I would take a bullet for you

Or just about anyone.

Or maybe even just for fun.

(That isn’t true anymore)

A stream of consciousness grows like a tree in a junkyard

A sight to see, but it wouldn’t make the papers

Omnipresent light and tunnels

Hold my breath awaiting the sweet sun’s return

Life is invaluable and the air we breathe is no curse

Speak not of the bullets to be taken

No one’s firing any

-

“Getting better" isn’t a card in my deck

I resolved to bluff

Despite coherent liable practically palpable subtext, I never even wanted to play

(I always resolve to bluff)

You’re the one that never calls me on it

I fear some night I may meld so deeply with who I pretend to be

That by dawn, I will have neither myself nor her

I won’t take a bullet

I never would.

I breathe in and out in rhythm with the world

And take nothing more than my check at meal’s end.

[rat-girl-rambles]

[Green]

You.

Why “It’s complicated” is the answer to if I believe in love at first sight

Too jaded to admit it.

My name in your mouth Is the soundtrack of my pipedreams

*Eye roll*

Every nauseating cliche

Every ounce of love and nerves too much to carry

Like blood rushing into my head

I’m dizzy again

I guess that’s why we’re all or nothing

-

All or nothing.

“You don’t look too good”

“You really aren’t supposed to take those together.”

“Will you though”

“Was it an addiction”

“I’ll believe it when you do it”

How you love the feeling of something broken in your hands to fix

How you cherish weights you’re strong enough to carry

How you focus all your energy on putting things back together

-

Back together.

Do we love each other like ideas or like people

The fear makes me angry and the heartache makes me numb

Though I’ve never seen a green so loud-

The screaming in my head will always drown out the disappointment in your eyes

[rat-girl-rambles]

Gerunds & Overgrown Grundge

Sitting at a coffee shop

Perpetually hungover never drunk

Waiting for my recklessness to heal

The broken bits I give half-assed effort and poor financial decisions towards repairing

If everything feels bad -

How can you tell if you’re getting worse or better

Being mad at him is easier

Than finding the words to explain why I’m hurting

Sipping overpriced coffee

Making to do lists that only grow

Counting down the seconds before something changes

Knowing that [like all other moments] I’ll somehow miss this version of myself someday

Wishing I were a better friend better partner better child better person

If every verb is a gerund why am I still so stagnant

Breathing in fresh air

Wavering on being at peace with myself and burning it all down

An empty coffee cup

I’ve been here before and I’ll be here again

Healing my recklessness with bandaids is like

Breaking my fall with coffee and gerunds

[rat-girl-rambles]

I'm sorry is this a diagnosis? I feel attacked

bpd be like:

[rat-girl-rambles]

Cameron Frye as portrayed by Rat Girl

Thanksgiving was nice. I barely even slipped up. Things are hardly ever as bad as you think they’ll be, it’s the lack of things that really ruins you. When there are things, when you get bullied into picking yourself up, smiling, going through the motions- it’s normally not as heavy as the dread you feel leading up to it. It’s when I give myself a break, say I can sit this one out alone in the dark, that’s when I sink deeper than I meant to.

So keep busy? I guess that’s it. Make lists, be productive, let your friends nudge you into being sociable. Go with it when your roommate wants to host a get together, nod along when your sisters take you on a hike, buy your bus ticket when your friends tell you to come visit. If you don’t move with the parade, you’ll just get trampled by it. In the John Hughes cliche of life, your Cameron needs a Ferris- even if you’re playing both roles some days. Ferris Bueller is a great analogy for who I want to be- Ferris’s recklessness as a force for good, Sloan’s looks and demeanor, Cameron’s shackles and journey. Much like how John Hughes' classics aged, I'm annoying myself.

Anyways, I've been keeping busy. After Thanksgiving, I was in town for all of one day before going back to my home town to see some friends. Then I came home, and again stayed home for all of one day before heading out to a dogsit in the suburbs. This week I've got job interviews, a booster shot, a holiday cookie party- I think I'm probably taking steps in the right direction. If I stay still, focus on myself, a boy, or a memory, I get into a whole dramatic sad girl mood. Time to fast forward through Cameron sick in bed and get to the adventure of it. The parade, the car kicking- all that jazz.

I'm not too sure this is helping. Maybe I'll post poems and shit? idk whatever *insert outro here*

[rat-girl-rambles]

Panic&Habits

I just did a little panic attack- breaths that didn't come. My panic keeps shape shifting into different forms - dizzy, tingling, deep breaths that are never deep enough. Like it's trying on outfits and looking at me to ask "how's this one? cute, right?" And I'm sitting in one of the boyfriend chairs begging her to leave the mall.

All my habits keep getting worse. Panic attacks, sinking deep into my low moods, and one particular demon of mine that I'd rather not name. Even anonymously on the internet. Believe it or not- I actually fancy myself pretty brave.

Thanksgivings coming up. My flights at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow. Something about being around your family can bring you back to when you were little. I'm worried I'm not in a great headspace for it, but its 4 days- how much damage could I do? (Famous last words, I know).

I mean it's not like I'm doing that poorly, even- I really can be so melodramatic. Today I had an interview, a meeting, went outside for a bit, took a bath, ate 3 meals. I can get into these moods that consume me, sure, but I get back up when I need to.

Anyways, I'll be trying to do better or different than this (10 points to whoever sees a Documentary Now reference there, it was too niche for me to even find a gif). It'll be fine, I can dust myself off- I always do. I'll make a plan, set goals, lay in bed less, shower more, function - it'll be good. I'll be good.

[rat-girl-rambles]

Spoiler alert: I'm not careful.

So this is me taking steps out of that place then. A tumblr page is a little more exciting than the journal I'll never pick up (vintage even).

That place you sink into- I used to live there. But I worked really hard, I thought I got out. Trust me, I'll cheat and cut corners wherever I can- but that time I properly fought, clawed, dragged my dumb ass kicking and screaming, my way out of a real shit headspace. I thought I did, at least. Maybe I just got distracted. Either way- time to get unstuck. As Tumblr as a cliche metaphor is, let's get some actual goals. I guess less bathroom floor breakdowns and picking less fights might be a good start.

[rat-girl-rambles]

Test 1 2 3

My therapist (and by that I mean the friend who wants me to get a therapist, but ya girl is strapped) thought a tumblr blog might just be good 'nuff.