heather was recently quoted on how her mental illness keeps her house clean. she really does have the most beautiful floors. i cleaned my whole house this weekend, and it does help with the anxiety. not as good as paxil, but cheaper. i've been in a stranglehold of tension lately. i can't remember the last time i was able to relax.
i should mention that when i was a kid i was one of those people who have to count the stairs everytime they climb them. i had two packs of crayons, one to use and one to keep brand new. i still remember the day that my friend tiffany re-styled valentine barbie's hair while i wasn't watching. you can never do it as pretty as it was in the box and i never could forgive her. but i guess i grew out of it, or learned to live with it. now, most of the time, i can tell myself that little things are indeed little things and i can move on. obviously as i get stressed, this becomes more difficult.
as in, you know you're o.c.d. when you have to butter the boyfriends toast so no crumbs get into the butter. he thinks you're an attentive girlfriend and says "i can do that myself, dear" and you say "no, no, it's no trouble". but really you're trying to keep him from getting toast crumbs in the butter because at 7 a.m. there's nothing more important than keeping toast crumbs out of the butter. but one day this week i was too slow and he beat me to his toast and i had to explain to him how much that bothers me, because i couldn't go to work knowing that the butter was befouled. i think that freaked him out just a little. not quite the last scene in the yellow wallpaper but he's mentioned it once or twice and scanned the butter in his parents house before offering it to me. devoted and freaked out maybe.
that was a long story to say that everything bothers me lately. and i can let nothing go. thank god i'm going on vacation next week. i'm going to relax if it kills me. and i'm not leaving the state. i'm not going anywhere. i'll have a run in the park, i'll watch some netflix, i'll self medicate with half a shot of vodka. i'll fill out that borders application. what if i went to one of my interviews and everything on their desk was askew? i might have a meltdown. then i'll never get out of here. and i have to. if i want to have control over food and exercise i have to give up control of the butter, and the alignment of my dishes on the cupboard and i can't do that when i think of the next 30 years and i'm still counting twenties over a counter to people who think i must be an idiot to work here.
so that's why i'm all "aahhh" about everything and i can't string two words together. because i'm going quietly mad. peace out.