100 Days of Bitchslap Journaling day 2

100 Days of Bitchslap Journaling day 2

As is my wont, I am prefacing this in its entirety by saying OUCH. Man I hate looking at my own bad habits. I mean, I want to be better so its necessary, but it stings, and digging under the symptom to find the root, more painful yet. (I looked ahead, and this week is just full of painful prompts so, I expect to be a weepy whiner at some point. Just saying.)

Your habits define you. What do yours say about you?

I could spend all night on this so I am limiting this session to 3 bad habits and we’ll see where it goes.

Bad Habit 1: Failing to take care of my body

This exhibits itself in many ways, some more dangerous and harming than others, but they fall under the same heading- failure to care for my health.

I Drink Pop

As a type 2 diabetic, regular pop is about the worst thing I can put into my body, aside from the sugar content, which is ridiculous, it also carries with it caffeine, which sorry to say is one of the most difficult drugs to get clean of I have ever experienced. Seriously, chocolate was easier to quit, caffeine is insidious and for days I struggle with a migraine worsened by withdrawals. Luckily, I have managed to stop drinking it, I got none during my hospital stay, so I leveraged that into a plan to stop ingesting caffeine entirely. So far, I’ve been off almost a month and can report that I have been 98% successful I did slip twice, but I am calling it a win.

I Eat Crap

For the most part, I don’t get candy (every blue moon I get a Starburst or a Reese’s pieces, but chocolate makes me ill, so no chocolate), but I ear almost all government subsidized foods. You know, those are the ones Kroger’s has 10 for $10? Yeah, those are subsidized because they are cheap and contain almost no nutritional value. Well, I’m so far sub-poverty level; I have to climb out of a hole to claim to be in poverty. It is what it is. That’s what we have access to, although, I have a plan to start getting to the farmer’s market, they usually have deals and I desperately crave veggies. Still, I do eat crap. It’s a habit, one I am trying to eliminate.

I Forget My Meds

I am trying to be brutally honest, so here goes.

Some days I just don’t fucking care.

I’ve been arm wrestling the State for over 5 years now to stabilize my Medicaid access. I am eligible, but because of policy (Spend down) I am supposed to be on one month, off of coverage the next, and so on infinitum. Ad nauseum. But that’s not what happens in reality. I have been off of coverage this time for over 4 months. How I the fuck can I get the care I need when I have no idea (and they never tell me when it’s an on month or off, and god forbid I call because nobody has time for that) when I do have coverage so I can see the doctor.?

And my doctor? I explained my situation in full and he still refuses to give me a script that can cover meds and insulin during the down time. He just refuses. Look, mutherfucker, it’s INSULIN! Not narcotics, what is so fucking hard about getting me a 90 day supply (with possible refill back up if needed) so I can take the life saving meds I need? How I am not supposed to take that shit personally?

So nope. Some days I just don’t fucking care.

Some days its hard. (I just don’t fucking care, part 2)

My gag reflex is so bad, that any pill makes me throw up.

My mother, Goddess love her, was fond of shoving medication down my throat. Often. Never telling me what it was, what effects it would have, just take it or I make you. So yeah, I get weird about meds. The shots are no big deal. I have no issue giving myself the insulin injections, ut the pills are just a nightmare and I have begged please please give me liquid when available, no matter how shitty it tastes, its easier to get down when I don’t have to vomit, thanks. Nope Grow up, he tells me. Awesome, let’s shame me for a neurosis that I earned early on. That’s just great, asshole. How about fuck you?

The downside is, I’m not hurting him by neglecting to take it, I’m hurting me.

Depression (I just don’t fucking care…. Well, you get the drift)

I wake up and my first thought it “Oh. Not dead yet. Fuck.”

Next thought is “It would be so much better for everyone if I were.”

That’s how my day starts. Every Single Day.

Now look, I’m not hurting myself or planning anything drastic, but this is my life. My ability to self validate is nil and my self worth is in the toilet. There are many things I hate about myself and while I am making conscious efforts to change them, I’m still doing damage control in the process. And that, dear friends, is fucking exhausting.

So yeah, there is a piece of me expecting to die any tome, which makes panning for the future emotional torture. Every day the sun rises is another opportunity to fuck shit up and it usually takes me about 3 hours to turn those thughts around, then I need a np.

I am working on solutions, I am making stride to fix these things, but as of this writing, they are still my bad habits, some of my worst habits, which is why they found their way here.

Bad Habit 2:

I want to win at any cost.

Another thing Mom taught me is every conversation or interaction is a battle and you MUST win or you are worthless. I learned that lesson well, and even now, as I long for partnership and cooperation, I still find myself trying to win, like it’s all a big war. Logically, this is senseless, but I still do it. I pick fights (with words cuz I’m too squishy for fighting) most especially with my longsuffering husband, who has mental issues of his own. We rarely fight, but when we do they are doozies. The hurt being fling is like watching a pro tennis match, using cannonballs instead of tennis balls.

And really, I don’t know why it always blindsides me, I’ll be knee deep in an argument before I realize I did this. I picked a fight out of nowhere and went at it, with the intention of destroying my opponent… who is usually someone I love dearly.

Again, I’m in therapy and I try to be as honest with her as I can be because I sincerely want to break this shit down so it no longer makes my life so complicated.

GAHHHH, vulnerability hurts.

Bad Habit 3:

I lack boundaries or the conviction to be consistent in my boundaries.

I always was so proud to tell people “I don’t know how to love halfway”. Bullshit, I’m lazy, enforcing boundaries is work and often I feel like a jerk when I do it, so I don’t.

How’s that working for? So glad you asked.

IT SUCKS DONKEY.

I hate being mad at people who use me only to discover it’s my fault. I allowed this. I saw the pattern of behavior and I failed to enforce a boundary and now I’m knee deep in BS all because I was terrified I might hurt someone’s feelings. GAHH

I do not like talking on the phone for long periods, it makes me feel weird, like I never know what to say or how to explain I have to use the bathroom so I gotta go, like literally right now. I end up hurting myself because I won’t say “sorry hun, but I have a life which requires me to move me bowels, I’ll text you later.” WTF is up with that??

Conclusions?

It’s all a symptom of my lack of self worth though, I am seeing that I always make my needs secondary (or sometimes just forget they exist) so I can make other people happy, well the downside is, those needs still need to be met and they resurface in awkward situations, inappropriate places, and the most inconvenient times.

So boundaries, huh?

Ok, I get it. I need them so I guess I better figure out how to set them and more importantly consistently keep them.

Signing off for now.

See you tomorrow.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.