Face Masques and Under-Eye Cream

One thing's for certain. It's going to get a little worse before it gets better. And I'd be able to live with that if I could get myself to fully believe that there really is light at the end of the tunnel. That things really are about to start looking up. 

Photo by Andre A. Xavier on Unsplash

It's been a nightmare. One straight month of insomnia, barely getting a couple of hours of sleep at the most. The work merry-go-round that doesn't stop, and which I can't get off of. The constant hassle of trying to keep up with housework. 

Seriously, at this point, housework is just pointing at me and laughing, while dancing just out of reach. 

I screamed at an auto driver today for refusing to cancel the trip from his end when he was the one refusing it. I don't know what came over me. I'm not normally like that. I tend to take the L and move on. Instead, I stood there in the middle of the road and SCREAMED as he was driving away. And then I walked to my destination, toting two large garbage bags. 

On the way, I passed the guy's auto, parked with him inside. That made sense. He must be from around here, to have so quickly confirmed the trip. I gave him a nasty look as I walked past, and was still deciding whether or not to scream at him some more on my way back. 

He must have picked up on it, coz he'd made himself scarce by the time I passed that spot again. 

I don't normally spoil for a fight to this degree. Not to the point of risking a street confrontation with some complete stranger, who may or may not even have a choice in taking the decision he did. It's shitty behaviour, TBF, but I was so mad that none of it mattered. 

I know why people prefer to hire someone to cook and clean. Especially here in India, where labour is so cheap, it isn't even worth a second thought. But I'm not yet in the kind of financial position where I can go with that option. 

At least, that's what I keep telling myself. 

But running a household? Coupled with severe executive dysfunction, it's a murderous combination. There are the dishes to be washed and the litter trays to be cleaned and the house to be swept every day. 

There are all the messes the cats keep making to be cleaned up - the stuff they break, the places they puke, the water they spill and then mix with their food, making for a paste that attracts flies if you don't notice it in time. 

I keep telling myself that I'm making progress, without ever knowing if that's true. 

I wonder if this sort of existence is really better than the constant spiral into darkest depression. 

I download yet another time-keeping, to-do list toting, reminder scheduling app. 

And I forget to take my meds for the second day in a row. 

The anger I felt today is the result of all of these things. It's bubbling up, looking for a way to externalize. I feel thankful for my alts, because they let me rashly quote tweet and snark without any fear of repercussions. 

I need this, I tell myself. All of this.

One thing's for certain. It's going to get a little worse before it gets better. Money-wise. Job-wise. Study-wise. Brain-wise. And I'd be able to live with that if I could get myself to fully believe that there really is light at the end of the tunnel. That things really are about to start looking up. 

Until then, I do what I do best - remember to brush my teeth because my mouth is inexplicably full of blood. And get up at 5 am to put on a face mask and some under-eye cream. 

#SelfCare, I think they call it.