700 AM: Wake up. Get up. Take pill by 730. Smoke detector alarm going off because of low battery, so every 1-2 minutes, hear “BEEEEEP”. Today is not a good day, BEEEEEP is driving you to actual tears. Luckily, Dad unplugs the connection until someone goes to the store to buy a pack of 9V’s. Anxiety is through the roof and it’s not even lunchtime.
I think, because I missed yesterday, my brain is all out of whack. We got a notice on the door yesterday ~5-6PM that they would be coming by sometime to check out the noise levels because they were testing something upstairs. AKA the goddamn floors. AKA the bane of my existence. This was also considered our 24h notice. I’m literally convinced they don’t actually know what “24h notice” means. They typically give us these notices at night, right before the office closes, and then someone might show up the next morning (not 24 hours) or not at all. And then they give us another notice saying sorry we’re coming to do it whenever we feel like, maybe tomorrow, maybe not. The managers are assholes. It’s been like this for years. I’m glad I technically live in another complex.
To be totally clear, (I think I mentioned it offhand before), I don’t actually live with my parents. I live down the block with a roommate. When I started this brand new drug regimen, I/my family/my Dr decided it would be best/easiest if I temporarily stayed with my parents again because they know me best. They know my personality, they’ve dealt with me during deep depression/anxiety years, etc., so they would be the first to know if something was really wrong and I needed to stop right away. Especially since I don’t often recognize the “bad” side effects, since they kind of change your personality a bit and I will fight tooth and nail that nothing is changed, you’re just a bitch, etc. My parents know this, they’ve dealt with it, they can throw me back to the Dr and say yeah this needs to stop now.
But that’s a little off topic. Anyway, I managed my pill at my usual time. I’ve been awake since then. I feel very wound up, probably because of the impending intrusion, the fact that it may or may not happen, and a huge fear on my part that they come during a quiet part and decide hey nothing is wrong it’s not noisy at all! I’m so afraid of that. I don’t even have to live here after I stabilize on the Vyvanse and I am fucking terrified of living with this noise for that long. It’s just a very, very deep seated unease I am feeling.
They were being noisy as hell last night, again, and around 1130 I attempted to record their noise levels so I could at least prove that it happens, even if no one was home to be noisy when the managers came to visit. I turned on EVERYTHING I had that could record. I tried my computer, I tried my tablet, I tried my iPhone. I tried video recording, I tried voice only recording. NOTHING could properly pick up the noise. Everything was staticky and you could hear the CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP that would happen, but you couldn’t hear the voices unless you knew what you were looking for in the static. It was so disheartening. I thought I had this great idea and I couldn’t produce anything. It sucked. I even emailed the best ones (my iPhone) to myself and downloaded audio programs to try to clean it up, but I couldn’t do anything to make it better. I can get rid of the static, but then everything is tinny and it kind of sounds fake. Plus, the voices go away. I need the voices to accompany the CLOMP-THUD-SLAM that they do so everyone knows what we can actually hear.
I don’t even know what they would do if they realized how bad it is. Like, are you going to tell the people, “Sorry, we know your lease is for a newly upgraded model with ‘wooden’ floors, but it turns out it’s too noisy so we have to give you carpet.” I mean, they’ve effectively screwed everyone over with this BS. Either we get stuck with the constant noise, or they have to fuck over the people upstairs and force them into dealing with workers trying to fix the sound insulation, or take away their floors.
Not that I feel that bad about them upstairs. The more I listen to them, the more I think that they are honestly rude, inconsiderate assholes who won’t give a damn that they are so fucking loud. I don’t think going up to them and talking is an option. After listening to them talk to each other, and them dealing with their shithead teen kid (he sounds like a real piece of work), and them vacuuming/dropping shit/dragging things around past midnight… I mean… COME ON.
My head hurts, my stomach hurts, I can’t lessen my anxiety, and either there’s something stuck under my eyelid I can’t find or my eye got scratched so now I have to wear my glasses which aren’t even the right prescription. Everything is just dramatic and terrible today, I need to crawl back into bed and wait for tomorrow to fix this mess.
This is long. Thanks for listening to me whine. Sorry about that.