The sadness of a single plate.

Prior to this summer, my living situation had always been a cluttered mess. I did my best not to have things dirty, but things were never tidy, or even close. Most of it was that I’d never gotten unpacked to the extent that everything had “a place”, so I couldn’t follow the axiom “a place for everything and everything in its place”, nor could I put things “away.” Then of course there were the migraines and depression. And, prior to this move, I lived in a mouse infested slumlord apartment where I literally had to store silverware and dishcloths in Ziploc bags because the mice would shit in all the cupboards and drawers every night.

That’s changed fairly drastically over the past six months, to the point where I wouldn’t be afraid for the landlord to stop by unannounced. Which is great but also sad — in Denzel Washington’s movie Demolition Man it showed him eating alone, a single plate and place setting in the dish drainer after dinner. And then what?! At least when things are not-put-away there’s clearly something to do, and some satisfaction when you do it. Washing your single plate and fork, and having that restore your kitchen to cleanliness, reinforces the loneliness… As it seems everything does.



Oh, the irony.

Is there a way to tell WordPress that I don’t want to see the stats for my blog, ever? Having it carol “You’ve had zero views!” when I log in to post about loneliness seems a bit… on the nose.

I can’t live a life where ignoring the life I am living equals coping… and when I sit and think about my life I become casually suicidal. I feel like Jackie Brown when she says “I’m too old to start over.” It would be one thing to move, to tell myself that I don’t know anyone yet because I’m new to town. It’s quite another to think that after ten years I have only one friend and no prospects whatsoever for a boyfriend, because I’m fat and possibly also ugly. One woman, a mentor of mine, explained (to enourage me) how her friend had also been on PopularDatingSite and found her husband, “but she had to go to coffee with a lot of guys before that happened.” Must be nice to be asked to coffee by “a lot of guys”, as I’ve had one date in 3 months after hundreds of profile views.

Anyway I just turned this on to blog until I got tireder because my mind was going to such a bleak place… The house is clean, I’m caught up and well documented at work, so would there be any harm in tying a scarf and leaning on it, just to see if I can feel the circulation being cut off? A little test drive if you will? Then, frightened by how imminent and easy and reasonable it seems, I’m driven to tears by the thought that I wouldn’t be missed or really, my absence noticed; a half-dozen people would go “Huh! Well, that’s too bad” and then go on, like I did when I read of a distant high school classmate’s wife dying of cancer.

It’s just sad, that I’ve tried to be a good friend, good person, and I’ve ended up with no anchor in this sea of humanity. So I sail alone, sleeping pills by night and Dexedrine by day.

So so fucking lonely.

I deleted a bunch of contacts off of my computer today. There are only a few left. I erased everyone who hasn’t talked to me in 2016 and I have realized that for a depressed person I did a pretty damn good job of holding up my end of social ties – I mailed actual Christmas cards, set up a coffee or lunch date with people once or twice a year, was forthcoming about being depressed but asked about their lives, followed up with what they had told me the last time that we met, and made every effort to be good company… Which has got me nothing at all. If people can not be bothered to drop me a line or do the inviting in an entire year, then we’re not really friends, and I have to face that rather than preening over my seemingly full address book.

I have five left. One in the same city as me. So I really want to go see a movie, and have literally no one to go with, which makes my heart hurt.

I went to an EAP counsellor (a new one as my regular one was booked up for the next few weeks) after becoming teary at work a couple of weeks ago, and I think he misunderstood my migraine history, or shitstory, as the case may be. I’d said how when I was younger I could power through them but now I just didn’t have it in me, and I think he thought that I meant I would retreat the the comfort of bed when I am capable of taking an Advil and continuing on. No, what I really mean is that I used to get up and go to work when I was vomiting-ill – I remember vomiting between customers as a cashier, vomiting and driving at literally the same time, newspaper-lined plastic bag under my chin, vomiting on the street immediately after finishing a job interview. I can’t, won’t, do that now, get out of bed when I’m that ill, for anything but the most extreme circumstance. Nor, do i think, should I be expected to, any more than the average 40-year-old should be expected to cope with the all-nighters they pulled with ease when they were 20.

Anyway, Mr. EAP gave me the old pep talk about how I have to make an effort, get out there, I won’t feel better or meet new people in my house… and I just feel like, dude, I’ve done this before and it DIDN’T WORK. I volunteered for a community organization, joined a music group, joined a church, joined an exercise class and joined a dating site. Despite consistent investment in these for 1-2 years I got exactly zero friends out of them. So why try again?

Indian desserts are the tits.

Indian desserts are not chocolate, but make up for it by being very, very sweet. I went out for Indian food buffet tonight because I had nothing cooked and have been eating cereal for like four days straight.  I feel like crap today – 1/3 mild migraine, 1/3 exhausted and 1/3 a cold – so I knew I wasn’t going to pull it together to actually cook anything at home.

Their milk cake – specifically the dark (almond) milk cake – is incredible. Only milk, butter, sugar, and some slivered almonds, so it’s rich and sweet and sticky. This dessert comes closest to letting me understand what people mean when they say a dessert is “too rich.”

I suppose this entry is as good a place as anywhere to keep my list of

10 Desserts that Aren’t Chocolate but Deserve to Exist:

(Aka things that aren’t actually improved by adding chocolate)

  1. Indian milk cake
  2. Jalebi (syrupy fried coils, also Indian)
  3. Rasmalai (thick, coconut-textured milk patties in pistachio and milk)
  4. Butter tarts
  5. Elephant ears/beavertails. Gotta love some cinnamon-sugar fried dough in the summer.
  6. “Purple salad.” You can substitute the Jell-O or ambrosia salad of your childhood for this one. Mine is based on canned pineapple & frozen blueberries with red Jell-O and Cool Whip.
  7. Krispy Kreme donuts
  8. Bananas Foster
  9. Nominee to be announced!


Deliberately omitted: Fruit pies (butter tarts are all the non-chocolate pastry I need), creme brulee


How to play body/mind games with yourself; the question of fatigue.

I’ve been feeling what I guess you could call avoidant. I don’t know if it is a physical chronic fatigue, depression, anxiety, procrastination, or most likely a mix of all of the above.

I missed the fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue support group meeting because I didn’t set an alarm – I didn’t think I had to when it started at 1 pm – and slept through it. I’ve talked to my psychiatrist, who serves as a coordinating doctor for the most part, and he said that chronic fatigue and fibro often go together, and I don’t have symptoms of fibro. Since fatigue is a symptom of migraines (the actual migraine and postdrome, at least for me) and depression, it would be very difficult to tease out what fatigue, if any, I am having above and beyond those; and since there is no treatment for chronic fatigue there is really no point.

I know for a fact that my body is diferent since I had mono. Now when I feel I am run down or coming down with something the lymph nodes on the left side of my neck get puffy and that was the side that swelled up like a frog when I had mono. I am 10 years older and in worse shape (fitness-wise) than when I had mono too, though. I’m going to try to take my supplements religiously this month and see if it helps; I’m really only good at taking Emergen-C packets on the regular.

And I have to just start some kind of exercise, Richard Simmons or a core workout or something. I know (no, let’s say I fear, that’s probably more fair since I don’t know for a fact) that when I put on a workout that I had done regularly back in the day, that I won’t be able to get through it and will feel crummy because I’ll remember when I  did them 2-3 times a week, on purpose! And enjoyed them. Obviously I’m not going to get back to that level of fitness without starting… I just have to break the barrier.