Truthful (freaking the fuck out) Tuesday
The past two days, I’ve been having the worst anxiety I have ever felt in my entire life. Anxiety and fear over me dying. I don’t want to die. I don’t even feel remotely ready to die. But these thoughts of my death keep racing through my brain and send me into panic attacks where I don’t even want to go to sleep over fear that my son will find me dead. I’ll...
I’m thinking of changing my screen name to something new and different. Instead of ‘kkilimnik’, I was thinking ‘kilimnikk’. Is that TOO different? Yeah….thought so. I guess I’ll keep kkilimnik after all. :(
Attention, people inside of my internet box:
If you have ever sent me mail, please message me your mailing address. Every single address I had got deleted when I accidentally deleted all of my Tumblr messages. Please know that I’m really sorry for being a shitty friend and appearing ungrateful for all of the wonderful postcards I have received. I have lots of stamps to use, and I need to make it up and apologize to several of you,...
Sometimes I meet people that make me feel like I am in a Christopher Guest movie. I met several this weekend.
I’m going to try. Don’t know if I can pull it off with a babysitter for my son, but I’m still going to try. I need a roommate. Anyone need a roommate? I’m clean, I smell good, and I rarely fart. Ask box me, yo.
I can sit for half the day getting stabbed a million times over with a tiny needle by my tattoo artist, but tell me I need to get blood work done and I turn into a pissy bundle of anxiety. I can’t wait for this morning to be over. Fjdgeydwrijxgkteh!!!!! SAVE ME.
Awkward sex advice is awkward.
So my appointment went well at the baby doctor this morning. Absolutely no kickboxing. No strenuous exercise, no lifting, pulling, or pushing anything over 10 pounds. Only light walking. He also said that when my husband and I have “intercourse”, he should “do me from behind”. It took every ounce of my self control to maintain my mature composure and not giggle...
I don’t post these much, but the last couple dreams I’ve had, you have been in them. They’re not sexy dreams. You’re just there, and we talk and laugh and hang out and hug like friends and it’s always comforting. These dreams feel so real. YOU are so real in these dreams that even though we’ve never met in person, I feel like I know what you smell like and...
They scare the living shit out of me. It’s not just any kind of fear. It’s a fear that has kept me up at night thinking about various zombie apocalypse scenarios and possibilities. Zombies are not something I want to mess around with. I don’t understand how people like my husband become crazy obsessed with them. Zombies are terrifying. Just simply...
A good wife A good mother Sweet Passionate Sarcastic Strong Anxious A worrywart Boring Beautiful.
Do you breathe in when whistling? Or do you breathe out? I breathe in. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think this is the right way to whistle. I’ve been feeling so inferior to all my fellow whistlers who breathe out. I blame my parents.