Too Much

One of the columns I fill in on my DBT diary card deals with avoidance.  It’s ranked on a scale of 1-5, one being low, five being high.  I generally sit around a two.  It could be a ten today for all I know.

Last night did not go as planned.  I got off work and bought a fabulous Papa Murphy’s “take-and-bake” pizza, which is a real treat for us.  I also stopped and bought a gallon of milk for DSB, because he can’t seem to live without it, no matter how little money we have or patience/time/understanding I have.

When I arrived home, I was greeted by chaos.  The trashcan was literally overflowing and there was a large brown paper sack stuffed full sitting on a chair beside it.  And the kitchen was a disaster.  I know for a fact that DSB did nothing but hang out all day yesterday.  How hard is it to take out the trash, especially when it gets to such disgusting heights?

There is such a crushing sense of disappointment when I get home from working or being productive, while DSB has done nothing, and enter a scene of chaos.  It wouldn’t take 20 minutes to clean up the kitchen and not 30 seconds to take out the trash.  It makes me feel like I am the maid, or really, like I am the bitch.  So, I cleaned up the trash and then went to sit because QoB was over.

We had QoB over and she and DSB chatted and carried on over Busch Lite and I sat fairly quietly with my lemonade.  Every time I tried to say something, it seems that I was interrupted.  It got to the point where I stopped trying.  I have no social skills, it is obvious, and I’m not into getting in between two people when they’re getting their drink on.  Good Lord, how I do not miss getting my drink on.  Amen.

After QoB left, it was already pretty late (for us) to start dinner, but DSB wanted me to wait because he had a welding job coming by.  Well, that guy didn’t come and he didn’t come, so I started the pizza at 7:30pm.  Just as we sat down to eat, the guy showed up.

DSB was outside with him for an hour.  An hour.  An hour.  Fucking an hour.  And when he came in, he was pissed.  So we watched a movie in silence and then I went and read in bed for an hour.  Took my meds late.  Took my sleeping pills late.  I don’t know what time I finally fell asleep last night, but it was well after midnight.

When I woke up this morning, DSB was outside.  I went back to bed.  When I woke up again, he was doing something on the Internet.  I just wanted to go back to sleep, so I did.  I wanted to avoid the interaction, avoid looking at my shitty dirty filthy disgusting house, avoid being alive.  I woke up around noon and talked to DSB for a little while, told him I didn’t feel like myself, and went back to bed.

I woke up the last time around 2:30.  DSB was getting ready to meet up with my parents and check on the boat out at the lake.  I didn’t want to go.  I texted QoB and told her I wasn’t coming over at this point, and that if she wanted to go to the lake, she should.

I have been sitting in my dining room, my favorite room in the house, a sunroom really.  I thought the “normal” thing to do would be to turn on the radio to my favorite station and have a little background music.  That was a bad idea.  Too much noise, even with the volume on low.

So I have been sitting here, catching up on all the blogs I follow, and listening to my two pups go in and out the doggie door, a lawnmower in the distance, my neighbors coming and going, the ceiling fan whirring.  And that’s all I can handle.

I don’t know what I’ll do next.  Probably, I will read.  Losing sleep and then sleeping too much throws me off, but I don’t want to be in the world around me.  It’s too vibrant, too rich, too loud.  I can’t handle it right now.  It’s too much.

5 thoughts on “Too Much

  1. For what it’s worth, I feel your pain. Coming home to a mess when somebody’s been sitting around bone idle–to quote my son–sucks so much ass. Peace and good thoughts your way, John


    • Thanks, John! There’s been a lot of that going around here lately, it seems, and ’tis unlikely to change unfortunately. Sometimes we’ve just gotta hang in there, and this is one of those times, for me, I think. Best!


  2. I agree with napperscompanion, I like your writing as well. I hate days like you had. Finding solace reading others blogs is sometimes all I can do in a day.


    • Well thanks, Bradley. I enjoy your blog as well! I do a lot of reading others’ blogs when feeling down. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. The main thing is that it makes me busy. Best!


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