Of Mice and Metaphors

Of Mice and Metaphors

brickhallI’m freaking out.

I’ve been freaking out for a couple days now.

The stress is too much.  I’m starting to crack.  It ain’t pretty.

It’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s behind a locked door and I can only look through the window and wish to be on the other side, basking in its glow… but I can’t find the key through the bleak, murky darkness that surrounds me.

I’m starting to question whether or not my beloved, betrothed hipster is really in for the long haul or if he just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.  No, he hasn’t given me any reason to question his sincerity.  No, I have no suspicions or reason to be suspicious of his intentions.  It’s purely my own neuroses fucking with me.  It’s me, beating myself up for no reason other than a deep rooted belief that I don’t deserve anything good in my life, mixed with a touch of paranoia that no one really wants me from the start.

I think that goes back to the day I was born.  It’s a very deep rooted psychosis.  Shortly after my birth, my mother attempted suicide.  She died a few weeks later as an unforeseen circumstance of her suicide attempt.  Try growing up with the knowledge that your own mother tried to off herself right after you were born.  I was well into my 30s before anyone told me that I had nothing to do with it.  She wasn’t upset or disappointed or depressed because of me…but 30+ years of believing something to be true makes it very difficult to see it in any other light.

639723_0_pain-the-brain-and-a-bit-of-magic_267My biological father didn’t want us.  He let the family have us after my mother died.  Double whammy…growing up with the belief that your father didn’t want you in any capacity and your mother tried to off herself to get away from you.  It messes with your head.  A lot.

I was raised by my cousin and her husband.  They’re the only “mom and dad” I’ve ever really known.  And they did their best to raise me just like any of their other children.  They didn’t treat me any differently than their own biological kids.  But I grew up being constantly reminded by my siblings that I’m not one of them, that I don’t belong there, that I’ll never be as good as they are…I’ll always fall just short of their good graces…I’ll always be playing catch up in a game where the other players keep changing the rules.

“Oh, you want to be as good as we are?  You need to go to college.”  Done.

“College is so last year!  Now you need to find a mate and have two children.”  Done.

“Your kids are smart?  Isn’t that cute!  But yeah, we don’t care if they’re smart as long as they’re thin and popular.”

“Oh, you still don’t own your own house?  What are you waiting for?  You can’t be one of us if you don’t own your own house.”

“You’re STILL not married?!  You absolutely cannot hang with us if you’re single!  We don’t associate with single parent scum in public.”

f317a5f10214464f5fd1c16bb0d4389a“You buy your clothing SECOND HAND?  That college degree didn’t do much for you, did it?  I don’t know why you bothered going in the first place.  You should have just found yourself a rich man and been a trophy wife.  At least then your kids could buy their way into the popular crowd.”

“I honestly don’t know why you bother.  You’ll never be one of us.  You’re just genetically inferior.  It’s not your fault.”

No, those are not things ANY of my siblings have ever said to me.  Those are the things the asshole voices in my head tell me my siblings are saying to me.  Those are the things my douchebag brain tells me to keep me a meek, mousy wallflower.

Do other people experience this?  Do other people sit around telling themselves that they are unloved and unworthy of being loved?  “Your parents didn’t love you.  Your siblings don’t love you.  Your kids don’t love you.  Your friends don’t love you.  Your fiance doesn’t love you.  No one loves you.  Why would anyone love you?  Look at yourself for fucks sake!  You’re a fat, ugly, dorky piece of shit!  You don’t deserve to have nice things.  You should go curl into a ball in the corner and stay there.  Forever.  Where no one else ever has to deal with your asinine thoughts and asinine ways and asinine life.”  It’s like Smeagol and the Gollum.  It’s like being in an abusive relationship…with myself.

I’m waiting to hear back about a job that I couldn’t be more excited and hopeful to have a chance at getting, but my jerk brain keeps telling me I don’t deserve it.  I’m too lazy and stupid to be successful at it.  If I get the job, they’ll only manage to uncover my unworthiness and publicly shame me for being the imposter that I feel I am.  I’m an idiot and, one day, someone is going to figure that out.  They probably already have…that’s why I haven’t heard back from them.  They put me through the second interview for their own entertainment.  “Hey!  Let’s bring the idiot in and let her speak for an hour!  It’ll be a hoot!”

3e376f55a41470e856634da7788283beAnd it’s not true.  I know it’s not true.  I am an educated, experienced, talented professional in my field…so why do I always feel like I don’t belong here?  Like I’m only here because no one has realized how completely worthless I am?

Seriously, I have issues.  And I’m usually able to manage them without much problem… but this week… they’re just getting out of hand.  Jobs and moving and switching the kids’ schools and marriage and cohabitation and bills and school shopping and doctor’s appointments and dental visits and my parents anniversary party and my niece’s wedding and my car needs brakes and my house is filthy and insomnia and compulsively checking my email and crying myself to sleep and my back hurts and I just want someone to tell me that I am really, truly wanted and it’s all going to be okay in the end.

In the words of the immortal Tom Petty, “I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings.  Coming down is the hardest thing.”

Genetics are Baffling

Genetics are Baffling

Text message conversation I had with my nephew around 1 o’clock this morning that I just reread and found to be far more entertaining now than it was at the time:

Him: “Hey!  Are you still up?  I have a quick web question.”

Me: “I’m technically IN bed, but I’m still awake.  What’s up?”

Him: “Okay.  So… we are in the process of launching a new website for one of our clients.  I need to know what info I need to gather from him in order to repoint his old domain to the new one.”

Me: “Are you dealing with two URLs?  Or is it just one URL that needs to point to a new host?”

Him: “What’s a URL?”

Me: “A domain name, like www.bobsbigbanana.net.  Do bobsbigbanana.net and bobsbananaisntreallythatbig.com need to go to the same site?  Or does bobsbigbanana.net currently point to site A and needs to lead to site B?”

Him: “There are two domains.  They both need to go to the same site.”

Me: “Okay.  A couple things you can do:  One, contact the domain registrar and point both domains to the same IP.  Or two, add an http redirect statement to the index of the old site to force visitors to the new site.”

Him: “Again, please?  In English this time.”

Me: “Which part of that is confusing you?”

Him: “All of it.  You lost me after ‘A couple things you can do’.”

Me: “Dude, it’s 1am.  I don’t have the energy or the patience for this right now.  Call me when I get home from work tomorrow.”

Him: “Oh, man.  I wanted to get this done by tomorrow.”

Me: “Just tell him it takes 24-48 hours for domain changes to propagate.”

Him: “I love your convenient use of big words.”

Me: “Great.  Now shutup so I can sleep.”

Fan-Hitty Shitty

Fan-Hitty Shitty



My work life has taken a turn from the mundane to the insane.  Everything has been flipped ass-over-elbows and I don’t know how to deal with it.  So I’m looking for a new job because I don’t get paid enough to put up with this garbage.  I now return you to your regularly scheduled Wednesday.