OK. You all know me. Some of you know me better - now, this is just online - than others. Those of you who don't know me as well as the others do should probably give each others big high fives plus 40 ouncers of malt liquor and money because the stuff you don't know about me is all pathetic and whiny and messed up and shit.
But anyway, you all know me. And you know I bitch about not liking motherhood, and being glad it's over, and particularly my being pissed off at my daughter because she had this completely unpredictable temper, like "Of course I love cute puppiYOU ARE SATAN AND THE WORLD IS A HEAP OF SUCKyeah, puppies are pretty awesome."
It was really like that. OK that's an oversimplification but still. You never knew when her shit would go off like a goddamn bomb, or for how long, or why.
And Oh My God, If you asked her "Why are you upset?"
First, she'd deny it.
Then, she'd get pissed off that you'd even askeHISSSSSSSSSSSS 666 HATE RAGE BITCH SHRIEK HEAD SPLITS IN HALF AND FIRE SHOOTS OUT.
None of that happened on this visit.
None of that happened at all on this visit.
Nothing even came close to maybe happening that way on this visit.
First of all, she finally got her physical maladies diagnosed, which lead, via co-morbid 'Oh shit I have that' realizations, to her going in to a psychiatrist, who put her on a few pediatric doses of psychiatric stuff, like me, and that was all it took for her to suddenly realize "Oh fuck I am bipolar."
Also, "Oh fuck I have been a rampaging cunt."
And so, Steely Dan is completely accurate when they attest that "Any 'mount of world that breaks apart falls together again." It's just that sometimes it takes fuckin' decades of sewage before it falls together again. And, you know, Steely Dan, I'd have appreciated you throwing that little bit of information in there. Walter Becker, I know your ass hears me.