Absolutely Unstable

I have problems. This is not new news. When I'm busy and I don't have time to bother with my instability, everything just hums along! However, when I'm not busy and I'm feeling sorry for myself, AND my Man Out of Jail (MOOJ) might have said some slightly insensitive things, a trifecta occurs...or maybe more like a perfect storm...

Let's take this weekend for instance: MOOJ was back home from his traveling job, and although we had seen each other just the weekend before, I expected that he would want to spend time with me. Hardly. He wanted to spend time with his "boys" since he hadn't seen them in two weeks. Fine. Whatev. I'll find my own stuff to do that will be BETTER and COOLER!

Well, Saturday night, I came down with a nasty head cold. That's when the real problem began.

You see, when I get sick, as happens at least 3 times a year, I throw a big fat pity party for myself. I think about how alone I am and how I always have to take care of myself and what crappy friends I have because they're not psychic and they can't telepathically discover that I'd like a cup of tea and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Now, add a touch of testosterone-filled boyfriend hanging out with his "boys" and sit back and watch the fireworks commence!

Oh, it was bad. . .and histrionic. I was in rare form. I was angry, I was sad, I was vengeful, I actually contemplated calling an ex-boyfriend (that I hate) just to try and make MOOJ jealous!! Euripedes couldn't have written a scene more dramatic. The text messages I composed, the voice mails I left, some of them barely comprehesible, were, at best, not suggestive of reasonability.

I'm crazy. And whilst I'm going through an particularly unstable period, I just can't manage to keep it to myself. I first have to direct all my irrational insecurities to my significant other, and then I freely express them to whomever will answer their phone when I call.

You would think, that after nearly three decades of having to deal with myself, I'd learn to lock myself in a room, with only a TV and an Agatha Christie book (possibly a journal also (to be burned shorly after my release)), only to come out when the period of instability has passed. But no. That's not what I do.

I am an evangelical witness to my own dysfunction.

While you may not be able to empathize with my problem, surely you will sympathize with me! Please, please feel sorry for me! Please! I promise I'll invite you to my next pity party. . .and let you fix my soup.

Yours eternally for infinity,
Queen, III