Quiet

Sometimes, when there is too much going on in my head, when thoughts trip and stumble and run in chaotic circles wearing ruts in my psyche and solving nothing, sometimes I need to be quiet. Paint the landscape of my inner eye gray, lock the doors and shutter the windows, partake in the minimally necessary tasks of daily life, rest my imagination and retreat into silence.

The unfortunate part of this coping mechanism is how utterly unappreciated it is by those not inside my head. What is comforting and healing, or at least balming, to me, appears unresponsive or even rude, to those around me. Which in my life generally results in things getting much much worse.

Today all I wanted to do all day was sleep and grey out and be quiet. I had the day off from the telemarketing job, so other than having to take care of a pet sitting gig, my schedule was non-existant. All I had to do was keep the wildflower child amused and alive and I was okay. I've had a rough few days. Saturday morning I had a lapse of judgement and allowed a new member to have a Skype show, with the understanding that I would be sending a bill for service once completed. After a marathon session that meant I would get no sleep before my morning shift at the telemarketing job, he told me "I thought this was just for fun. I normally pre-pay if it is for pay." He had no interest in paying me. Never did. I lost what should have been $50-60. This made me feel foolish and weak and used. Saturday night I barely had any private time on the cam site. Made only about $21.00. Yesterday I had to go over our finances with my husband and my father and found out that we are looking at about $37.00 in the checking account for the next two weeks and I barely have anything coming in from the cam site due to the rough couple of weeks prior. Then last night I signed on for an hour and had absolutely nothing. People stopping by to chat and keep me company, but absolutely no private time. By 2:00 a.m. I just wanted to cry. What am I doing wrong? Why do I get the charming and complementary members with no money? As much as I love being told how sexy and fantastic I am, I can't pay my bills with sweet words. And the longer I sit in my basement, barely dressed, posing, with my feet going numb and my hands stiff with cold, the less confident I feel about performing, the less sensual and sexual I feel, the more desperate and scared and confused I feel.

So after this weekend, today I needed a mental break. As I mentioned I had a pet sitting appointment I had to take care of, and since my license is suspended, my husband had to take me over (with the Wildflower Child). We made the 25 minute drive there, I took care of the animals and we came home. Hubby wanted to show me stuff in the yard, but I was not dressed for it and it is brutally cold here right now. Highs in the low 30's and windy and I don't have a coat. I asked him why now, when it is so cold and I'm not dressed for it, does he need me to stay outside to count praying mantis egg cases? They aren't going to hatch until late spring anyway. So I came inside to feed the cats and start cleaning the kitchen. Trying to be nice when they came inside, my husband started helping empty out the dishwasher, but there was now all three of us in my small kitchen and it was claustrophobic, so I said it was "too crowded" and switched to sweeping. His response? "It's not crowded, it's your family."

I know logically he was trying to be nice, but anxiety is anxiety and I had just said that it was too crowded, meaning I felt it was too crowded, meaning I was uncomfortable. And then he denied the validity of my feelings and told me I was wrong. He'll never see it that way. And if I point it out, he gets defensive. But being the stubborn idiot I am, I tried. And then the night went to shit.

He left the kitchen and I kept cleaning, eventually able to start cooking dinner. But initially it seemed like every two minutes he or the Wildflower Child was calling me out of the kitchen for some reason or another, even though he knew I was cooking. At one point I came out holding the chef's knife I was using, he just wanted me to answer some question in the affirmative and I fell off the dinning room step down into the living room and slammed my hip into the loveseat. Remember I had a chef's knife in my hand that I dropped instinctively when I fell to keep myself from impaling myself on it. There is no reason I have to get called out of the kitchen every few minutes while cooking, but it happens every single time.

I'm bitching I know. I just sometimes need some quiet and space and grayness and understanding.

Also I need to make fucking money.

Seriously.