Cough Syrup

"Be grateful for the opportunity to wake up every morning." I just wrote that a few days ago.



Yesterday was my 23rd birthday. Yay me. I got a huge response on Facebook and a few well-wishes on TUL. I appreciate that.

Yesterday I did not go hiking, nor did I eat exactly what I wanted, nor did I get dinner cooked for me, nor did I get to avoid all my chores. I did not get to be alone with the sky, or play geeky board games with family, nor did I arrange an X-Men movie marathon.

We brought our kitten to my parents' for a playdate, and with the intention of playing geeky board games, listening to Loreena KcKennitt CDs, and having a good time.

So my parents' car had a nearly flat tire, and we had to stop to pump it up. Toki (the kitten) was freaked out for the first two hours of the visit, even though he's enjoyed similar visits before. Mom left for her yoga class for several hours mid-visit. P had an exam to study for (which she's writing right now; hence I have time to write) and my dad was too tired to do much.

I ended up batting between encouraging Toki to play with the other kittens, helping Phina study, and stretching pizza dough in the kitchen by myself. While mom was out, I made an innocuous comment that resulted in a revealing conversation about how my dad's antidepressants are doing shit all.

After we got home that evening, the night wrapped up with a mutual friend tearing up P's faith in humanity by yet again going back on a promise, her nearly crying, and me taking eight teaspoons of DM cough syrup for a non-existent cough.
I think the little adjustment to reality that that much dextromethorphan creates finally wore off about twenty minutes before I started writing this (although it could all just be sleep loss, and I'd have no idea).

I ought to be feeling guilty and worried about this. I hadn't done something like this for over a year - I think the last time had been soon after we moved out of Toronto. I had switched to cough syrup somewhere in March of that year; I had finally run through the obscenely huge bottle of liquid codeine that P's dentist had given her when her wisdom teeth came out (she used two teaspoons and swore off it, saying she didn't like how it made her feel and that it tasted like cherry shit). Once the cough syrup was gone too, I stopped.

It was a direct response to stress from other people, not for fun. I was under a lot of pressure from many directions right then, and I was out of coping. P was very upset when I told her, obviously.

I realized some time in this last year that I don't need counselling or therapy. If I could run away and live in a cabin by myself two hundred miles north of anywhere, my problems would vanish. Except then I'd be lonely. I do have attachments. Usually they do me good, but right now they're making me take cough syrup. The people I love and care about most could use some therapy, but I am actually pretty much okay when left to my own devices. But none of them are getting any therapy, so instead I had some cough syrup.

I'm not guilty and worried about this. I'm not feeling a heck of a lot of anything, except a bit cold and tired. Motivation to write my Dungeon Master post is a bit tanked right now. I really want to go back to sleep as soon as possible and see if things improve, but going back to sleep will not make P stop seeing rejection everywhere and will not get my dad off medications that are only making him worse, nor will it give him a job that doesn't suck.
He admitted yesterday that the back injury he suffered last October is essentially healed. He just feels like too much shit to go back to work. I don't even know whether they actually fired him or whether he's just on some kind of indefinite, unpaid, un-benefitted leave of absence. It doesn't matter; I think he's fired himself internally. NuComm is a shithole and I can't blame him for not wanting to go back there.

I'm kind of trying this morning, though. There's an anger swirling around deep in my mind (anger is nearly invisible to me, by the way, which might be an excuse to see one of the free university counsellors) and I think part of it is directed at him for throwing himself away. Putting up a good front of daily functionality is not enough, sorry. I don't want my father to just act like he's doing all right, I want him to deal with what's fucking him up.
I also want him to take one of my score of suggestions for a first step of action, besides getting the kittens. Yes, they are making an improvement, but that's not enough. He's playing with them and caring for them, but it hasn't gotten him to move that step further and (for instance) water the house plants - which used to be his pride and joy. I'm watching him let them die because he can't make the effort, and my sympathy is wavering. It's not that I care any less how he feels - this is me caring. I want him to be better, I don't want him to suffer.

The urge to smash something is overwhelming.

I don't know how to correct this. I don't know how to correct for this. I don't think that I can or should walk away and ignore this, go on with life as usual, but it seems like I'm supposed to - like I'm being encouraged to. Nobody else wants to look at it, to touch it, to deal with it, probably because it hurts too much and they don't want to share my cough syrup.

It took some deciding to go with the Glee version of this song. The original music video is just too weird, and Darren Criss does a good job (although the original performer has a reality to his physical performance and expression that Darren Criss could only dream about). The important part, however, is the context of where they used the song in the show: one of the characters getting 'caught' as gay and ending up trying to hang himself. I cannot understand this song except in context of frustration, confusion, lost opportunities, and longing for an unreachable better existence.

Writing this post is my way of reaching out to you through the screen, and I'm loath to stop writing and tell it to actually publish. Please; I don't mind if you feel the need to pass some sort of judgement. Say it to me, don't just think it. Care enough to act. Make a suggestion. Send me a hug. Anything. Just be honest about it. I've had too much of people hiding behind a pleasant facade of functionality for now.