Depression Talk

I’m always scared to get involved with a new endeavour for a variety of reasons. The number one reason is heartbreak.

I become heartbroken very easily. I am hyper sensitive and can find myself curled up in the fetal position, weeping, because someone ate the last of the potato chips. I’m not sure if this relates to being a crazy person, or if I’m just really, really special; either way, heartbreak scares me. Mostly because all the booze it takes me to recover is so expensive.

I’m going to look at a horse this morning. My last horse broke my heart in many ways: Partly because I should have been more diligent with his training, and if I had been, perhaps I wouldn’t even need to look at a horse tomorrow. He also broke my heart because the day I met him, Christmas day, I fell completely head over heels in love with him. He was sweet and gentle, and nibbled on the palm of my hand. I groomed and tacked him and hopped on him and everything went perfectly on that first day.

We had a few more relatively successful rides together, and then, slowly but surely, all hell seemed to break loose. Perhaps he just wasn’t happy in his environment after having spent so much time in a professional stable on a race track. Perhaps he had a mood disorder, perhaps any number of things, but regardless: He got mean. He got scary. And he got dangerous. He had to go.

I had enough time to accept that he would be leaving, because his shift in personality was gradual. So I wasn’t that heartbroken the day he left.

My father has laid down the LAW with regards to the horse we’re looking at tomorrow. I AM NOT allowed to fall in love with this horse until after he has inspected it. He has to have good teeth, sound legs, be in good physical shape, not have heaves or foot cracks or any of a million other problems that horses can have. And then I have to make up my mind about him.

So here’s to trying not to put myself out there until we’ve seen and ridden the horse, because Lord knows if I see him in the stall, if he looks at me with big, Thoroughbred Chestnut Gelding eyes and sniffs my shoulders, I will fall in love with him immediately.

AND WE CAN’T HAVE ME FALLING IN LOVE WITH THOROUGHBRED CHESTNUT GELDINGS WHO HAVE CRACKED HOOVES.

Perhaps I should have my father take over my dating life as well?

Falling in Love, Thoroughbred Chestnut Gelding, Horse Shopping, Buying a Horse, Equestrian

Today I get to don my cap and gown, and walk across the stage. I’m graduating. Finally.

The fam and I are heading downtown early so that I can be dropped off to get my cap and gown and learn how to walk such that I don’t end up on my face, sprawled across the stage in front of the dean.

I’m thinking that large doses of Clonapin are in order, and if not that, then certainly a large pitcher of beer afterwards.

Graduation, Ceremony, Cap & Gown, Falling off the stage

I freely admit to people that I have a disgusting habit.

I chew.

As can be expected of a chewer, I do chew on my nails. Its gross, its unbecoming of a lady to have nails down to the quick. It is not particularly attractive; although it is handy in terms of playing the guitar.

I also chew on bubble gum. I can’t get enough of gum balls in my life; I buy them in bulk and hide them away. When it comes time for me to study, I sit down with my gumballs and I begin. I must take two at a time, two of the same color, and chew them for about five minutes. I always have a paper towel handy so that I can spit out the flavorless ones and repeat the process. The people who have been subjected to the sight of me, hair tied to the top of my head, wearing my favorite sweats with a stack of nasty old chewed up gum balls beside me have nothing to express but pure horror.

I also chew on my hands. It is quite revolting and from time to time the skin surrounding my fingernails is actually open. It hurts a lot when I do this, because you can’t really avoid getting things into the open wounds, and sometimes things like dirt or pickle juice will work its wiley way in and make me feel like I have stuck my hand into a tub full of milk house acid.

The desire to chew often sneaks up on me. I’ll be sitting about, minding my own business, and a twitchy feeling will come over my jaw. Its like I can feel that the muscles in there are getting bored, they need to be working out and DOING SOMETHING to keep from atrophy. If only the muscles in my ass were as motivated as the muscles in my jaw, I would be a perfect specimen.

The easiest and most accessible thing to chew on is a lip or a hand. (My own lips or hands: When I get to the point that I need someone else’s lips or hands to chew on, I promise, I’ll go into voluntary lockup.)

I was at a social event today, observing the events around me and chewing on my thumb. The fmaily friend sitting beside me was watching me, twitching because I knew that he wanted nothing more than to grab my hand out form my mouth, shake me by my shoulders until I had a head rush, and scream “FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH, STOP DOING THAT NOW.”

Instead he threatened me with gangrene, saying that I could actually lose a thumb to a ravenous infection of sorts.

“Hah,” I replied. “If you’re like me and you wash your hands thirty-two times a day, and you sing the entire alphabet song while you do it, your hands are home free from having infection ravage their open sores.”

Moral of the story: If you’re going to be a crazy person, you have to make sure that you have a touch of the OCD so that you can pre-empt any of the damage that might be done by your craziness.

Nail Biting, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Gum Balls, Gross Habits, Hand washing

I’m contemplating making every Friday a list day. Just a random list of random things.

So, for my first List Day:

1) I think that I’m going to try buying some Near Beer and seeing if I love it as much as regular beer. The problem with beer is that I love, love, love it. I just love the taste of it … not so much the feeling you wake up with the next day that leaves you thinking, If only the damn beer wasn’t so GOOD, I wouldn’t be peeing like someone who consumed all kinds of beer last night.

2) I’m done school and unemployed, and I have never been busier in my life.

3) I went through all my old high school and college papers today, so I could throw out the trash and make my old room a little less cluttered. Talk about a walk down memory lane.

4) My mother made me take down all of my old South Park posters. Its probably for the best, now that my nephew can read, but now every bit of my thirteen year old self is gone from the room. Does this mean I’m a grownup now?

5) My most influential teacher signed my yearbook in the tenth grade with “Amanda: Don’t ever lose your desire to question. It looks good on you.” I think about that often, even to this day, and I’ve never forgotten that she wrote that. I’m not a hundred percent sure what she meant, and I’m hoping that one day it will just hit me, like BANG. And suddenly, I’ll realize that she knew something about me that I never knew about myself back then.

List Fridays, Non-alcoholic Beer, Beer, Unemployment, de-cluttering, Organization, South Park, Most influential teacher, Introspection