i’m quite sure i’m in the wrong song
ah, its that time of year again. the springtimeofmycrazy has officially made itself known. will there be summertimesadness too? let’s hope not. i’m hoping for sum summertime spent in a bikini without wanting to run and hide my “fucking hell muffins overflowing!” and my thunder thighs. my photo-sensitivity might be the first thing to send me running anyway.
i tried writing today.
i tried painting today.
i tried playing my violin today.
i even tried ordering a keyboard because i know i can not totally fail at that. i failed at even ordering one or letting my husband do so.
i’m in a tailspin of mania and guilt and overwhelming vanity among many other things depending on when you ask.
i’ve become obsessed with the dry skin on my hands. i put lotion on at least 80 million times a day to no avail. i have a nice long list of things that have done next to nothing. Lotion, every kind I can get my hands on, literally. Prescription ointment, vaseline, the previous two together, (many of these things have been put on at night with gloves on to keep it on all night) Psoriasin kinda worked for a minute, paraffin wax will keep it at bay if i can get it under control, cocoa butter, bag balm, olive oil, coconut oil,A&D ointment, coating my hands in neosporin or A&D and wrapping them in gauze is the only thing that really does something but it is really hard to do by myself and i’m out of gauze and neosporin is very low, maybe one use left. i think if i could do that every night for a week or more it might go away but then i would have to be super diligent in keeping it away. i assume.
this is no ordinary dry skin issue. i’ve seen doctors and they don’t even know what it is. it cracks, flakes, and burns when certain things touch it. i have never, i repeat NEVER had dry skin problems beyond the usual dry feet in winter that goes away immediately with lotion of any kind. this issue started at least TWO YEARS AGO!!!! it is getting to where i don’t want to touch my husband because my hands feel so scratchy and dry and FUCKING GROSS NO MATTER WHAT I DO!!!! for fucks sake i bought a $40 wax bath and had to use it more than twice a day to even see any results, but it was STILL THERE.
see? i’m obsessed.
i’m also mildly obsessed with losing weight but that isn’t a mental health concern because it just means i miss less workouts and eat better with only one cheat day on the weekend. i measure just as often as i step on the scale now, so i’m not obsessing so much over how heavy i am just making sure i keep making progress.
i. am. so. fucking. vain.
i haven’t been taking selfies of my new hair because i look like hell every time i try. i have this damn pimple that refuses to vacate the premises.
at least i’m reading again.
i sleep a little better these days too which is good because insomnia during the springtimeofmycrazy is a very dangerous thing.
oh and my daughter is likely getting her driver’s license this week and a car…which i finally came to terms with except that she is “100% certain” (her words) that she will die in a car accident.
fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
“and i told you to be patient
and i told you to be fine
and i told you to be balanced
and i told you to be kind”
in the morning i will be with you but it will be a different kind”
’cause you’ll be holding all the tickets and i’ll be holding all the fines…
i had to change it because it wasn’t right.
i wish life was that easy.
who am i kidding. my life is cake i just don’t seem to know how to eat it.