So, the anger isn’t swimming around in my head, whirling like an inertia fueled eddy instead I have songs flipping like a meth-addled DJ on a sugar tare.  Right now it’s “You Spin me right-round baby”, but when I try to stop it it flips to Renee Fleming “Prelude to a Kiss” from her Haunted Heart CD, and when I get tired of that it flips to Sarah Brightman and then to Susan Graham, then back to Renee, and so on.  It’s kind of annoying.  It’s more than just getting one song stuck in my head, like happens to a normal person, but we’re talking DAYS!  I don’t know if it is a drug side-effect or if I’m just cursed.

I’m going to talk to my therapist tomorrow and see if there is something, anything I can do to not hear these songs constantly in my head.  Of course, it would probably help if I stopped listening to the Divas list on my iPod and then I might get a break.

Okay, so I quoted Harry Potter for my title.  Sue me.  Today was a day where I felt the emotions raising in me, pricking at my eyes and making me tear up.  I don’t know what caused it.  It didn’t help that my nephew J kept talking about killing Sammy, my parrot.  He can be very bombastic with his desire to kill her.  I can understand not liking someones pet, but to be as specific as to how he would, and how much he would enjoy doing it hurt.  He know’s I’m overly attached to Sammy, which I think only adds fuel to his aggressive style of humor.

I missed church, I wanted to go but the idea that everyone knows what’s going on in my house, my head and my spirit I don’t want the looks.  So, I was already wound up when he got here.  At least I was wearing my dress so he thought I went to church and he couldn’t razz me about it.

The thing is, I was okay when he was there.  I think it started when Mom got up and demanded her breakfast and “Where’s my ice tea.”  I really have an issue with Mom treating me like a waitress.  She wanted me to unpack her new oxygen system and I told her to do it herself.  When she got up and started it I helped her.  It was a confrontation where she wanted me to “want” to help.  Her tone was “You will because you work for me” and I took the bait, like a well heeled poodle.  I need to stop that.

I let her in on that I was having issues and that I took something for it when she started to get eye problems and how she’s upset that she feels like she’s loosing her eyesight….again.  And again, I let her get to me.  And it won’t be the last time I’m sure….dumb bunny.

A teaspoon is a really small place to live.

Yes, I said happy.  I think I’ve finally hit through the glass ceiling with the help of a Lexapro battering ram and I’m calm enough to not be anxious about the falling shards.  Nice metaphor, don’tcha think?  But over all, I am feeling better, as a whole.  I want to get my housework done so I can attack the things in my life that need attention.  I was thinking th Zolpadin was the extra little push I needed but it seems to making me want to sleep more if I’ve had a hard day the day before.  Like now, I know is expecting me to get up and work to show off how well she has trained me in front of her husband, but all I want to do is just curl up in my bed and give myself to the dreams and unhindered thoughts.

Looking back on that statement I can see where the anger is still trying to re-piece the ceiling back to keep me where the anger can reach me and I’m not going to allow it.  C is one of my biggest pokers.  She is a lot like my mom.  When I was doing 1hr. a day in different rooms during the week, she looked at me and told me that I was doing a good job, in a sort of condescending way.  She probably didn’t mean it that way, but that’s the way I took it.  Only I can decided how things can affect me.  I need to stop and take a breath and relax.  I’m trying to learn the Young Womens Creed’ whatever it’s called breaking it up so i can take in long deep breaths and remind myself of the things that I want to be, need to be happy.   I need to conjure up images for the corresponding values so I can flip through the images and know what it means if I don’t have the wherewithal to remember the words.

Well, no more hiding in the void.  I need to find some Tylenol, suck it up, and get the kitchen, family room, and Mom’s room tidied up for tonight.  Three hours of work.  Yikes!!!  That’ll teach me to letting things slide.  Dumb Bunny!

I’m calmer today, so far.  That’s saying it’s calmer because Sammy and I are the only two up, so that makes things a little better.  I hope to keep getting up at the earlier hours so I can start getting all my work done before Mom gets up so I don’t have to work around her.

I’m still wanting to just be alone.  To be completely cut off from the world and the people who annoy the crap out of me.  I want to fall head first into the narcissistic vein in my soul and revel in it like the rest of my family.  Yet, I’ve struggled so hard not to make my world start with “I” and then “Me” before “you” and “Us”.  I plan on becoming a world citizen, not just a drain on the world as a human.  I may never, ever make that big of a dip in the wide ocean of need, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.

What if, after the world turns for a new season in my life I find that the world pisses me off, I’ll find a new cause, but for now, it’s like the security blanket that makes me hopeful, makes me push forward that someday I will be of use and not a waste to the world.  Now, I’m earning my wings to land on the world stage.

What does it say about me that I would wish, almost pray, that I get beaned in the head by a softball than spend the day watching my family play Softball?  Being unaware of the now sounds so appealing to me, even now, at home struggling to keep my anger in check….I want a release, I want a psychic vacation from me.  Someone please, just bonk me in the head with something so I can rest.

I wrote in my journal yesterday about 9 pages total, three of those pages dedicated to my minor journals (gratitude, love and hope), so in essence I wrote six pages about my episode with anger and how I’m dealing with it.  So, it was in the forefront of my brain before I went to sleep last night.  I dreamt that I was constantly chewing on splinters and spitting them out with this huge wad of phlegm (even the spelling of the name is hideous).  I looked things up in my dreaming dictionaries.  The splinters are angry words that I need to be careful of, and I have problems getting them out.  However, coupled that with the imbalance in the humours, I’d say I have the start of a sub-conscious “Danger Will Robinson!”  Only I don’t think I’d miss the sixty foot misshapen cockroach attacking me like the little idiot lost on a strange back-lot of Universal.  I need to get the anger under control.  Yes, I was extolling the virtues of sweet revenge last night, but I realize now I need to find a less physically destructive way of doing myself and opt for a more traditional way of getting even….Like retail vengeance.  I go shopping and leave everyone else behind and not buy them anything.  I might be able to get myself into that.

Seriously though, I know that I’m walking a tight rope right now with what I’m eating, when I do eat and my mental/physical health is.  I can joke all I want but the reality is the extra pressure my weight, the depression, the anxiety, the stress of taking care of Mom and the other maladies I’m dealing with will stop being so easy to juggle and everything will fall down on my head.  I need to think of me and be pro-active in getting things taken care of.

Sounds simple enough, but at the same time I see it as one more thing on my list and *poof* I’m stymied into inactivity again.  Blasted!

So, I done did it again.  I allowed myself to get sucked into the jet turbine of anger, it spun me around for a while before it spit me out again.  The funny thing is that though I was aware of what I was doing the whole time, I couldn’t stop it.  I was too exhausted from working with someone else and the comment of “When are you doing to do that for me?” was all it took to make me feel crap on a stick instead of just crap.  I’ve noticed a new trend of mine of hiding sweets around the house so when I have an intense-give-me-something-now-before-I-start-eating-sugar-raw I have it.  Lately it’s been frosting.  Whipped cream cheese frosting.  Yum.  It’s kind of alike revenge on everyone, well everyone meaning Mom, because you know what they say, Revenge is Sweet!  I got our favorite cookies and didn’t share them, I’ve got a bag of M&M’s in my office, and I have no intention to share them either…..and she’s going to have to spend a lot of time in front of the refrigerator to find the frosting (which isn’t going to happen).

Sweet is the life of vengeance even though the only person I’m hurting is me.