punkwalrus (punkwalrus) wrote,

I wish I had gotten more done last weekend.

My home is a wreck. Ok, not a wreck, but it's not at a place where I am happy with it and so it feels like a wreck. My lawn looks like crap, laundry is piling up in the bedroom again, the kitchen's a mess, the rugs need vacuumed, and my den is still full of a lot of junk I should stop hanging onto.

I utterly hate myself for it, since I have no one to blame but myself. As I try to diagnose what happened, it breaks down like this:

Fri Night: Got home from work, sulked about not being able to go to a movie, got paged a lot.
Sat: Slept late, had to gut all the cat boxes and completely change the sand. Ending up going out with Jenny and Brad, then ended up at the Heares for the rest of the evening.
Sun: Actually tried to motivate myself, and got gardening tools. I got a new hoe after the last one snapped off, and after digging up the garden, I went to get a glass of water and then I managed to run my jaw into CR's shoulder, and it locked in place (out of socket) for a while, forcing me to slam my head several times against the wall until it snapped back in joint. I was in a lot of pain after that, no bleeding, but I took 4 Tylenol and fell asleep. I am still in a lot of pain, mostly in the jaw and not where I slammed my head, oddly enough.

When I was a kid, I used to bang my head a lot. Hell, I did it until I was in my early 20s. Funny thing; it's usually an amazing reset device when my depression gets so bad, I get hysterical. I haven't gotten that hysterical since the early 90s, but the whole SI thing definitely comes into play, and I found after banging my head around to get my jaw back in line, I felt this odd sense of calm. But it was the kind of calm you get when you're so completely depressed that you don't care anymore (like right after you make a decision to kill yourself). While I did not get suicidal or anything nearly as dramatic, old memories reminded me this is not the kind of calm I like.

I am still depressed I can't keep my house clean, though. I have this irrational fear that "house Nazis" (or whatever, it's one of those fears that remains unconnected to any describable physical manifestation) are going to come in and take my house away for not taking care of it. Shame sucks.
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