Lucky Lady, I am

I told my mom I’m depressed.

This was prompted by today’s doctor visit, where Dr. McCatholicstein informed me that I’m definitely on the end of the bell curve as far as depression goes. The bad end.

I told her, and she cried. I cried. And then she was as supportive as I’d expect. ALSO, I’d like to note, my mother was a nurse, and she is good at talking to patients, and she got way more information from me than any other doctor or nurse or boyfriend or friend has ever gotten, in the span of a forty-two minute phone call.

I can berate myself all I want for not going to her sooner. She’s like the queen of injury, the saint of pain, the duchess of all. She’s more of a mom than a billion moms combined.

Which is to say, she heard what I had to say, and she didn’t understand, per se, but she heard. And she’ll help.

As a controlling motherfucker, two minutes after the phone call, I texted my brother and demanded he talk to my mom to cheer her up. He did.

Families are weird. But they exist, and they’re awesome. I have a good one and I’m very lucky for that.

xoxo
Sadey

 

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Secret Yarn Language And This Post Isn’t Sexy So GET OUT OF THE GUTTER!

When I was seven, I went to a slumber party and we watched the movie Alien. I haven’t watched it since, but I’m certain that it wasn’t a great film choice for a group of seven year olds, though none of my friends seemed bothered by it…

I was awake all night, though, completely fucking terrified. Then, for the next few weeks, I became absolutely convinced that all of the furniture in my bedroom would morph into scary aliens as soon as my lights went off.

My mom, while not thrilled that her impressionable seven-year-old had been shown a horror flick, hid her disgust fairly well while brainstorming a way to keep me in bed for the ten minutes it would take me to fall asleep. Her solution? She unraveled a ball of yarn. I held onto one end, in bed, and the yarn went out my room, down the stairs, through the hall, across the kitchen, and into the living room where she sat. If aliens attacked, I could tug on the yarn and she’d come up to save my life.

However, I was massively worried that my brother would find out that I was a flat-out wuss. He was older, and I was seven, so I hated him as younger sisters do, and also idolized him…as younger sisters do. I’m not sure if I was concerned about him making fun of me (he would’ve) or if I was afraid of being seen as afraid, I have no idea. But I informed my mom that she had to come up with a reason for the yarn and it MUST NOT BE the actual reason.

He asked her about it right away, of course. She told him that we had a secret language and had conversations at night by tugging the yarn in different ways. He bought the lie and was jealous and wanted to know the language. She wouldn’t budge, and insisted it was a secret. This conversation was relayed to me via my mother. It’s possible she just told him the truth and warned him not to give me a hard time. I like to think he was jealous. I remember it that way.

People do funny things for the ones they love. :)

xoxo
Sadey

 

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Already

People like to say things to depressed people.

“There are ways to win.”

“It’ll get better.”

“You’ll beat this.”

These things are not entirely constructive, though the good intent is well noted. When you’re deep though, deep into depression or sadness or whatever it’s called in whatever construct you imagine it, it’s just it. There’s no beating it, no ways to win, and no ways for better.

Because for now, and maybe temporary, maybe not, I’m already dead.

xoxo
Sadey

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Do Not Mistake Nail Polish Remover for Makeup Remover

This public service announcement brought to you by my burning right eyeball.

Happy Friday, lovelies!

xoxo
Sadey

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Unread/Notifications STRESS FUCK!

Today I made a simple to-do list of very basic things and I have done half the things and I still have more day left so I am happy about that. I woke up at 9:30am instead of 2:00pm! Score one! I wrote for A WHOLE HOUR! I edited for a WHOLE OTHER HOUR! I mailed a deference form in that I’ve been meaning to do for about seven months!

Sometimes it is hard to get things done because I get overwhelmed by the quantity of things to do. I need to switch out some of my covers. I need to get Slaves on Pertz back on Amazon. I gotta write a million things and edit them and then edit them again and write more. I gotta cam-girl it up to make actual $ in the mean time. I want to edit some of my first books because it just needs to happen. I want to write some shorts for various calls for submission. I need to finish my major project of awesome. GAH! My brain explodes.

When I’m overwhelmed, I push everything to the side and watch marathon amounts of Netflix while curled up in a ball, clutching a stuffed animal and a pillow and twitching like a crazy person. Or I lay down and browse reddit for three hours until my phone is out of battery and I opt for a nap. Or I just skip Netflix and reddit and take the nap.

But the key, and I know this, is just doing a small amount every day until a big amount of stuff gets done. Breathe. Logic doesn’t work on the brain of the Sadey sometimes. It’s been a rocky few months.

Here’s a result of the doing-nothing!

Unread e-mails, Sadey’s personal account:

Unread e-mails, Sadey’s business account:

Screen Shot 2014-04-07 at 2.03.03 PM

Unread e-mails, [RealName]‘s personal account:

Notifications, on my guilty pleasure site:

Little by little, poco a poco

xoxo
Sadey

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Tinder Verdict: Icky

I’ve been out of the online dating scene for a few months for several reasons…mainly the thought of going on a date has just been really unappealing. Lately though I wonder if I’m ready to jump back in…so…

A week ago I signed up for Tinder, the latest dating app. Basically, the app shows you a picture of a guy (or gal), and you swipe left if you think they’re attractive, right if you don’t. If they happen to also agree you’re attractive, then you’re matched, and can send messages to each other.

It’s a hook up thing, which I didn’t realize but became clear almost immediately, when I got a message that didn’t even say hello, just “dtf?”

So I learned a new initialism! “dtf?” = “Down to fuck?”, which, even for a sex positive lady like me, is kinda crass. I’m not 22 year old kid, scoping out my options during last call. And I’m also not so desperate to get laid that I’d fuck a guy without knowing anything about him. AND I’m certainly not going to go to some stranger’s house at midnight (several guys invited me to do this), because that’s just stupid.

I get the appeal of Tinder, but it’s not for me. No more swiping. It was entertaining for a while, though, so eh. No harm, no foul. ;)

OkCupid reigns as King Of All Online Dating Sites. Maybe I’ll join it again soon.

 

I’m gonna watch the Badgers crush Kentucky tonight. I’m fairly sure my family would disown me if I didn’t.

Let’s go Red! 

xoxo
Sadey

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Is This Just Fantasy?

Twenty minutes ago I was sitting naked on my bed, using my hitachi as a fake microphone, and belting out Bohemiam Raposody, happily pretending to be Freddie Mercury, with boobies. 

Let me repeat that, so it can sink in.

I was using my Hitachi magic wand as a microphone to sing. And I was singing along to Queen. FOR AN AUDIENCE.

Jesus Fuck.

xoxo
Sadey

 

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Filed under Musings and Reflections, Reality, Sadey Sex