Category Archives: never take my advice

February 6, 2022

Is Everything in Question?

By Steph

If I post this right now, I will never need to stress about sharing anything because I will have already posted the most irrelevent and ridiculous shit. If I was you? I might skim this one. (But say hi or something, damn.)

I just heard a song called Loner by Maggie Lindemann and seriously, it would be my anthem if it wasn’t so…exposing.

So, here’s what’s up with me, let me know what’s up with you in the comments. I can do that because I expect two people to have accidentally read this far, but it’s also totally possible that tomorrow I won’t remember that I have a blog.

Shit, I just remembered that I came here to write a music review because I have to post something, submit something, do something (but did I really, doubtful) and I want to talk about Our Current Reality? Because what is even happening right now. I cannot with everysinglething. I mean I was more capable when I was publishing things. Now, all the things seem insurmountable. Or are insurmountable. Is it unlikely, or have I convinced myself I’m actually terrible?

There’s a Halsey lyric that doesn’t go “…need someone to come along and tell me ____ all right, is this okay?” That’s not it, but you yeah. (I should probably tell you that I use the wrong words a lot now. If I end a sentence with “so.” then you should know the rest and I gotta conserve my energy, and I don’t know the word.)

I need someone to do that but I don’t trust anyone so I probably wouldn’t believe them anyway.

I have questions.

How was I relatively ok when the kids were little? Was it that everything was so immediate with children that I didn’t have time to have a breakdown? Taking care of them gave me some sort of structure in my life? That’s funny, because I can hear myself saying, “Kids need structure and routine!” Was that part of it?

Well, this fucking pandemic definitely didn’t help anything, right? You’re supposed to stay home, you know, and my body wouldn’t handle a serious illness, so. Also, I don’t drive anymore and live on the edge of the forest.

Shit! My back is killing me, of course my neck always hurts, and I keep getting distracted. This is what happens with anything I try to do, I either get sick or get distracted with something else and then forget what I was doing or I suddenly realize that I’m just sitting here with my head in my hands again.

I initially was going to punish myself for not…being better/submitting literally anything/doing one normal human thing by writing a music review (which isn’t punishment even but it’ll make me feel stupid so). I had to stop and think about what I came here to do.

Okay, so I guess I won’t tell y’all everything right this second. Or even anything.

10 Comments | tags: anxiety, chronic pain, isthisokay, loner, mental health, midlife crisis, ptsd, questions, why, writing | posted in Blogging, chronic illness, Depression, Mental Illness, never take my advice, random bullshit, thoughts, writing, your health is your wealth and this is why I'm poor

April 5, 2018

Mishaps.

By Steph

This is a thing that happened: We Don’t Chew Glass

April 3 at 9:29pm

So, I haven’t been sleeping well.

Yesterday I maimed a lawn chair.

I just now SET MY FUCKING ROBE ON FIRE WHILE I WAS STILL IN IT.

How are y’all?

I posted the above on my fb page right after it happened, but I need to elaborate on this fuckery. You might need to see this picture I posted a couple days ago to get the full effect of what went down.

Me, in my usual attire. Notice the two bathrobes.

Okay. So, it was really windy, and I was trying to light a cigarette (Once again, AT LEAST IT’S NOT HEROIN. I’m a work in progress.) so, being the genius that we all know me to be, I ducked my head into my robe to block the wind.

Well. That red robe up there is flammable. I don’t know if you guys know this about bathrobes, but now you do, and you’re welcome. That motherfucker just whooshed, top to bottom, huge flames. I didn’t think I would die, because I was too busy thinking, damn, I didn’t know fire was so fast.

I even put ACTUAL EFFORT into making fire a few days ago, and couldn’t. But accidentally set myself on fire? That I can do without even trying.

So, the inside of the red robe is on literal fucking fire and, incidentally, still on my body. But I was wearing two robes, so I didn’t feel anything.

Remember when I said it was really windy? Okay. So I stood up, trying to decide whether to rip the robe off or stop, drop, and roll. While I’m pondering this, I realize that the wind (and possibly my frantic flailing about, idk) has not helped the situation. Not even a little.

I finally got the thing off, and threw it in the yard, because, hey, it’s not like fucking GRASS AND TREES EVER CATCH ON FIRE.

I tried to figure out how to stop, drop, and roll the robe itself, but for some reason that seemed like maybe not what I should do.

Once the fire stopped, obviously with no assistance from me, I took it inside. Because, much like grass and trees, houses aren’t flammable. ( How have I even survived this long?)

Anyway, I decided the safest place for it was the bathtub.

Don’t ask, because I don’t even know.

Later that night, I was feeling pretty not good and sometimes hot baths help, so that’s where I headed. Lots of times, I’ll lay a towel over my body while I’m in the bath, and it’s like extra heat. But, in this particular case, I already had a burned-ass red robe in the tub, so I didn’t even have try to find a clean towel. *Note: I just realized, the robe wasn’t clean. It was my “outside” robe. Also it had just been on fire. Whatever.

The bath was very relaxing, the robe was super heavy, way better than a towel, so I just leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, cause my legs weren’t driving me insane for the first time in days.

I guess everybody knows not to wash red clothes in hot water. If not, I’m telling you now. When I opened my eyes, that fucking bathtub looked like I had been bathing in the blood of virgins. It was like a goddamned crime scene.

My legs felt better, but from past experience I know that if I don’t fall asleep before the bath-relax magic wears off, I’ll be right back in there. So I left the blood-water in the bath, along with the robe.

I also left my soaking wet shirt, bra, and underwear in the floor, BECAUSE I FORGOT TO TAKE THEM OFF BEFORE I GOT IN THE BATHTUB.

How does a person take a 30-minute bath and not realize they are still dressed? I didn’t even notice I was wearing clothes until I tried to dry off.

Anyhow, I know I’m like the Worst Blogger in the History of Ever, but between writing stuff to hopefully get published and being sick all the time, I’ve just been lazy as fuck and used my Facebook page to share my…mishaps. Let’s call them that. That sounds like maybe shit’s not my fault. I like it.