The Nuclear Option

This is my first post.

I started this blog with all kind of ideas. See I was supposed to be a writer. Didn't work out that way. I followed all the rules: college, graduate degree, marriage, house, steady job. Then it blew apart--atom bomb style.

I used to work a 50 to 60 hour a week job. I used to function. Now I sit on my grandfather's couch and try to endure another episode of shaking. It's not a bad episode--like Linda Blair and pea soup--but it has been steady tremors for a few hours. I had this sense of hope earlier in the day. Then this panic sets in from deep within me. This panic that not one more day can I do this thing called life. Not one more day can I handle any of the responsibilities I have: mortgage, bills, change of address, mail, correspondence, messy lists of to-do's that don't get done. I don't function. I collect disability. And I turn 39 this week. My parents must be so proud, huh?

Well they are actually. I am above ground. See your expectations as parents sink when your grown daughter has a full on nut-house break down.  Your expectations go from grandkids and professional milestones to not over-dosing.

Back to the panic. It's all consuming and terrifying. Everything is the enemy. Your own soul wants out of your body. That's it, I am getting off this ride. You look in the mirror and think, "what a fucking bitch." Nothing anybody says will convince you otherwise. The demons inside you they are loud and persistent. They are winning against Archangel Michael. Hell, pardon the pun, he slayed dragons. He threw Lucifer out of Heaven. But he can't beat the demons in my head. They are barnacles, malignant tumors that will not leave. They grow and cackle and snuff out Hope and Light.

Apparently I am not the only one who feels this way. Otherwise there wouldn't be nut-houses. Yeah, whatever. Call them psychiatric hospitals, but put lipstick on a pig and it's still a pig, and psychiatric hospitals are still nut-houses.

I keep trying to out-run the demons, but I just stumble and fall. My right leg is shaking all on it's own. I can't stop it. But I won't use the Nuclear Codes tonight. I'll wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. Somewhere all the way this porcelain doll broke. Inside I am rubble.

But I can't and I won't use the Nuclear Codes, because it would destroy my parents. And the Nuclear Codes cannot under any circumstances be used on my grandfather's couch. And now that I am officially unemployed they wouldn't get any money anyway.

I saw a rabbit today. My cat nuzzled me. I had an iced-latte. I am going to smoke a cigarette right now. "Till human voices wake us and we drown."

See you tomorrow. Maybe Archangel Michael can gain a little ground if I pretend. I pretend to live.

But I do in all sincerity prayer. God Bless you all.

Hmm. What is I just stopped running and let the demons consume me?

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.