If it's NOT "The Count of Monte Cristo" I have no freaking idea.

"We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it... Anyone can love 'because.' That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something 'despite.' To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect." -Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear


You should probably ignore this post. To be honest, I'm not certain I'm going to publish this post.

I don't recall which classic story ended in the perpetrator getting walled into a room forever. I thought it was The Count of Monte Cristo, but I'm likely incorrect. I just have a vivid mental image of him screaming through the tiny remaining open space as the final brick slides into place.  

That's where I am right now. Only I'm bricking myself into my own prison.  

Amidst all the horrific stress and terror of the past month, I've been desperately pushing down/aside/away other things that have cracked my foundations and left me on precarious footing. I locked it all away for a time, ignoring everything for weeks under the wave of fear and worry associated with the accident. Now that Husband is doing significantly better and I no longer wonder if he'll live, I'm getting to the point that if I DON'T let something out that last brick will slide into place. And I'll be trapped in self-imposed isolation.

Ultimately, the main drama will be resolved somehow or another, and it doesn't really matter what it was (because it will eventually be dealt with). What matters for this post is this: I'm a person with many acquaintances and very few real friends (by friends I don't mean people who consider me their friend: I mean people I'm willing to trust and lean on when I need them).

I don't trust easily or well, and I don't let many past those outer periphery "I know you and generally like you some" edges. When I discover someone isn't actually trustworthy in my moral code, fair or not, I purposefully withdraw from everyone. I bury everything deep under a pasted-on a positive attitude and keep going on the outside.

On the inside I'm slapped by shock, followed by incendiary overwhelming anger, followed by humiliation and despair...who hold red-hot pokers in their evil little hands and beat me as long as I let them. Those devious bastards insert and foster dark thoughts and invite anger back to the party, particularly when I'm alone at 3am.

And now I'm sorely tempted not to trust anyone again. I'm caught between "you never should've anyway" and "if you don't open up now and again you'll be alone."

I'm aware of the over-dramatic nature of my anxiety, pain and depression. I'm even aware that my moral code is harsher than most and likely an unfair standard, particularly in certain situations. I find this to be somewhat of a failing in my character, that opening up isn't often worth the risk to my heart. It's a part of me that's been under construction for quite some time as I try to keep myself from alienating people in general and be more...positive...about humans.

Husband keeps telling me how proud he is of me for dealing with everything that's going on and keeping it together, but all of that is an utter sham. I'm not and don't deserve any sort of praise here. I'm a brick or two away from being completely walled-in and emotionally frozen. I'm not suicidal. I'm just broken. I don't know what to do about it.

I put the quote about love at the top of this post to remind myself what I want to work toward: loving despite and including flaws. Even when I'm talking about my own.

Groupon is making me fat...and other random crap

My time in the hospital inappropriately jump-started a new diet plan (hey, I lost 12 pounds in that first two weeks and it's stayed off...might as well get SOMETHING good out of this shit!). I find the following Groupon really annoying, now that I'm making a conscious effort to eat better and do some sort of sweating activity.



Groupon hates my weight loss!


Screw you Groupon, I'm not eating your damn cake and I'm pretty sick of the Zumba coupons. So there. Poor marketing! Bring back the Conceal and Carry discount. Or martial arts. Or even aerial yoga, which I'm DYING to try when I've lost enough weight that I won't bring the ceiling down...and it arrives in MN (generally we're years behind the coasts in any trend) if you MUST give me something I'd classify as girly.

In the meantime, I've been wasting time today on www.etsy.com today, because buying from small artisans is like buying from local businesses: I've found it's often far better. Not always, but often.

I found THIS FABULOUSNESS today, and am planning to scare the bejesus out of the neighborhood kids with my lawn as soon as possible. Go forth, zombie lovers, and make YOUR lawn disturbing. Just in time for Halloween!

Of course, that brought me to other Halloween-type etsy crafts, which brought me to the Poe/Raven Print that I utterly covet for my office. It's finally getting chilly and dark in the evenings, and it smells like dying leaves and impending winter. Time for my annual Lovecraft and Poe reading marathon...modern horror just can't compete.

PS: Spellchecker doesn't recognize "bejesus" or "girly" (never mind Groupon or etsy, which are made up words anyway). I'm amused.

UPDATED: Thanks to The Bloggess I also now MUST have the Weeping Angel from Amazon. Except I'll have to buy two. And make them face each other.

Just in case.

My Middle Name? Definitely not THAT.

Have I mentioned I'm not a terribly patient person? Yeah. I'm not.   I have no intention of turning this blog into a medical-world-recovery diary, but it's likely to creep in here and there...

The way people react to a crisis is fascinating, and if I wasn't in the midst of one I'd likely be really interested in dissecting all the weird little peccadillo's that surface. Someday later I may do exactly that, because it's ASTOUNDING what sort of idiot dramas, petty fights, intentional exaggerations for attention, and territorial snarkiness all pop up when someone with a lot of acquaintances is hurt. Luckily, 99% of people mean well, and I definitely remember that. :)

Instead, I'm saying "fuck off" to being patient with all the drama and stress and writing about shit that's distracted me this week.

• I've determined that all family/loved ones/friends seating in a hospital are somehow designed to get you to move on after approximately 23 minutes.
• 23 minutes is the average amount of time it takes my ass to fall asleep in the incredibly uncomfortable chair in Husband's room. Yes, I do mean an average...some days when he's napping I time it. Because I'm mental that way.
• I'm quite sick of pudding.
• Yesterday it occurred to me that in the past three weeks there has been a near-constant stream of non-husband-men (and a few women) in my house at odd times of the day. I wonder what my neighbors think. 
• Particularly the neighbor across the driveway from us, who believes he's an ex-CIA agent and spies on the entire neighborhood with scopes and night-vision-goggles. I've mentioned him before: he's the peeping dude.
• Well, my next-door neighbors probably think "that's the birdkiller's house!" only in Spanish, which I'm far too lazy to translate here.
•  In finding the old peeping post I looked at a bunch of really stupid post titles and have come to the following conclusions: 
• I liked the word "abounds" WAY TOO MUCH
• I'm significantly better at coming up with titles now. 
• My blog was totally inane for a long time (honestly, it still is, but at least I'm occasionally better at pointing out the funny/stupid/inane crap now).
• I did have a couple good ideas in there, like Monster Mondays and stuff...you know, themes and shit (instead of the chaotic random word-flailing I'm doing now). Seriously considering starting some of them again.
• Which requires actual thoughtful writing.
• Which I think I'm ready to start doing again (without having a meltdown, I mean).  

 I'll try to create a real post over the weekend. Promise.