where I sleep

3 posts in 3 days…that won’t happen often.

Here’s the truth:

I’m so scared to even move in my apartment. Blogging? LOL. I can barely work! If it sounds insane…well it is driving me insane.

One of my two neighbors is not working any longer. He may have gotten laid off. I don’t know. I feel bad for him because losing a job sucks…..but when he is home all day (like me), I don’t get anything done. I used to get my chores done during the workday. When my neighbors would work, I would do things around the apartment PLUS do my “real” work. Then we they got home, I would pretty much sit still until bedtime. (You don’t wanna live like this – trust me!!)

Now ahhhhhhhhhhhh! He is always home. I am always home -except when I’m at the gym- so I am an irritable mess all the time. No relief. I appreciated so much that my neighbors worked (instead of being retired etc.). I thanked the universe for it. Well there goes being thankful. I swear anytime I say ‘thank you’ for anything, the opposite happens. ALL THE TIME. That is why I no longer say, “I’m so grateful for…….” because that thing will be gone in a flash.

It gets worse! My other neighbor suddenly got a kid from somewhere. (!!) She is a nice girl. We speak and smile when we see each other. She may be around 13 or 14. But WTF am I going to do in the summer? When she gets home from school, she sits right where my office is. There goes the workday. Where did this kid come from? Is she going to be around all summer? If I’m going nuts now, imagine that!

It isn’t my neighbors fault the walls are so thin. The funny and hard to explain thing is that they can only hear me (except I’m not making any noise so they hear nothing). They have a brick wall between them and their other neighbor. I’m the unlucky one with a 1 bedroom. I’m in the middle with nothing but thin ass drywall protecting me from their noise.


Being grateful doesn’t work so maybe whining in a blog will….I wish.

I just want to be normal. I have tried everything. The only thing that are slightly helpful are not having caffeine. Medicine would probably help a little bit if I took it but I hate being drowsy from the meds so I don’t take them often. Sleep helps a great deal but since my nonworking neighbor is home, he stays up late on some nights on the phone laughing and talking loud. Less sleep = irritable me. I get less real work done.

My job is on the line. It isn’t just because of the lack of training/help. It is my living situation too. I have gone to the library to work for a couple of hours once a week. That is a decent alternative. The solo study rooms are only available for 2 hours per person so I usually go into the group study room and hope no one else comes in. The mall is the other alternative. The downsides to that is there is no electric plug for my laptop and the last time I went the wi-fi was really sluggish. I had to go home because I was getting more done at home than at the mall!

I’m exhausted. I’m extremely worried about losing my job and the above is why. I’m going to hate myself if I lose my job due to my PTSD (triggered by noise in this case).

No solutions.

I also now believe that the universe no longer cares about anyone. Now I understand why people to choose to believe in a god. It must be comforting. The book, Undoing Perpetual Stress: The Missing Connection Between Depression, Anxiety and 21stCentury Illness finally convinced me to stop believing the universe gives a damn. It is a great book. I would recommend this book everyone but especially to all doctors (general practitioners and shrinks).

I realize this entry is a mess and that’s because my life is a mess. I’m envious of people who can easily tolerate living in an apartment (about 99% of the population). Normal. Normal. Normal. That is all I want. Apparently I am asking for too much?

I had to get this out…I easily typed all this out because I’m not home.


I’m reading a memoir by Mayra Hornbacher. She has/had life threatening struggles with bulimia and anorexia. When I went to therapy for the 1st time this week, I was reading this book in the waiting room. God forbid, I don’t have something to read while waiting. I’m a nervous wreck.

Anyhow, my new therapist saw me reading this book. She’s in the mental health field so she can probably tell a book by glancing at it for half a second. Well I was a psych major (obvious, right??). I read books like this all the time. I’ve read books about schizophrenia, bipolar, alcoholics, etc. This is what I like to do. This stuff interests me. Reading about something doesn’t mean I have it. Oh, I also like to read about serial killers…

I must admit that I’ve been careful to not make this book visible at work. I know how some people think. Besides I’m under 110 pounds. I don’t own a scale so I don’t know the exact number. My weight may make some people suspicious. I just don’t expect that from a therapist. I have this weird, irrational thought about people in the mental health field – If they don’t get me who will?

I’m trying to get out things I feel are important like my ultra sensitivity to noise and how I was so close to suicide in late 2006. And I feel she wants me to admit that I have an eating disorder (why else would I be reading that book? ::rolls eyes::). I also felt like she wanted me to admit that I was sexually abused. I wasn’t but people often get that vibe from me. I eventually plan to tell her I’m asexual. That should be interesting.

She seems nice…but she didn’t seem to understand a lot of what I was saying. I don’t talk clearly. Communicating isn’t my thing. 🙂 I can be extremely inarticulate and when I do talk, I tend to ramble. So I will try to be conscious of this next time. I also have to explain to her that I don’t know what I like or want to do because I haven’t tried anything! As a child, I wasn’t allowed to do much of anything and I spent half of my childhood poor. Not middle class, lower class. We didn’t DO anything. All I know how to do is school. That’s it. Sad but true.

Btw, the book is Wasted by Mayra Hornbacher. It is well written. I do have a concern that this book could be a trigger (psych talk) for people with eating issues.

Runaway Train (part 1)

And so I ran. I knew that I couldn’t check myself in a psych ward because who would pay my bills? Deciding that apartment living was not the answer, I broke my lease. It cost me $1500. I brought a house in less than 45 days with no down payment of course.

I thought I was safe. No more hearing neighbors through thin ass walls. Yes I would miss my big closet and washing machine but the noise would be gone. I would feel safe. I could come home from work and feel free.

Well it didn’t quite happen that way. The noise began almost immediately while living in the house. I slept in my car for weeks to escape the noise. I yelled at my neighbors (from inside the house). Oh yeah, once I went on my side porch and yelled “FUCKERS!!”

The haunting of the noise is still here today. My mind is telling me it is getting worse.