mini-meltdown

so the other day my pink stiletto sandals decided to take a walk. i didn't notice they were gone until wednesday. now, i only wear these things on certain occasions; specifically, when i have occasion to wear a particular pink silk dress. so when i noticed they were gone, i knew i could not have been the one responsible for their disappearance. true, it does look like a monster looking for chocolate came through and left my room as if his search had been entirely in vain, but there was no reason for those shoes to have been out of their assigned spacial designation (ie, on the top shelf of my closet to the left side of the shoe rack.) i mentioned their disappearance to my mom, who said she'd look for them. then i asked one of my sisters (the one with the bitchy horse) if she knew where my stilettos were? she wasn't exactly sure at this point WHAT, exactly, were stilettos? now unless either of my brothers has an extremely twisted stiletto fetish, the only person responsible for their disappearance is my other, klepto and unfortunately alcoholic sister (klepto - seriously; about a year ago she started getting all these things in the mail from lawyers; i didn't find out till recently that she had SHOPLIFTED some stuff from kohl's and is therefore NO LONGER WELCOME AT THEIR ESTABLISHMENT!) anyway...

so the missing shoes made their reappearance on thursday. coincidentally, on thursday klepto-sister had come to the house, packed up some of her stuff, left a note that she'd be back to get the rest on sunday as well.

so it seems that it would be intuitively obvious to the most casual observer that she indeed is the culprit behind the shoes. now i wouldn't put it past her. i have found a couple pairs of MY THONGS in her room a time or two. it's like she goes through my room and takes whatever she feels like down to her room!

so, knowing that she intends to sponge off a friend of hers who goes to ISU, i have been experiencing a bit of a meltdown.

in my closet, there is only one shoe of each pair. the other shoes are in a bag locked in the trunk of my car. all the jewelry i like is kept in my purse, which is kept at the side of the bed where i sleep, just slightly under the bed itself. the only underwear that is in my drawer is the holey big butted old kind or the ones i generally do not prefer (like the unbreatheable ones that always irritate me!); the rest is in another bag locked safely within the confines of my car. i have hidden all my nice new shirts behind all the old ones in my closet; all my little shirts (ie, tank tops, camisoles, cute tee shirts) are in yet another bag i have locked in the back of my car.

maybe this may give you an impression of what is like to be OCD like me. imagine that instead of a kleptomaniac sister worrying your little mind, you were constantly afraid that your house was going to burn down. that's what life was like for me during middle school. except i didn't hide things; i put them in neat places in descending order of importance next to my bed so i'd be able to grab them in case i had to make a run for it.

so i've probably already lost a few things (my favorite tweezers for one); in my efforts to hide them from my sister i have forgotten WHERE i have put them!

needless to say this relapse into compulsion/obsession is joined hand in hand by a dark cloud that hangs over my emotions. kind of like the fog that was constantly there between my mind and my skull before the meds.

it's like being hungry but unable to think of a single thing in the world that you would want to eat. like i just don't care about anything at all. i doubt the mere existence of love? mnah, who cares. i have no crush immediately a mi alcance? so what who cares!

i just want to get my clean new sheets on my bed and curl up in my down comforter...