Dissociation Station

For those of you who might vaguely remember my ramblings from the Stone Age of the internet, welcome back! For the newbies, buckle up. You've stumbled into a corner of the web where the tea is always lukewarm, the laundry pile is a sentient being, and the headliner of our daily show is a masterclass in… well, let's just call it "performance art."

So, what's the twist this time around? Glad you asked (or maybe you didn't, but here we are). This little corner of the internet is now dedicated to the glorious, the frustrating, the utterly bonkers reality of living with a "deadbeat" spouse. And not just any deadbeat, mind you. Oh no, we've got a special edition here, folks!

My beloved (insert dramatic eye roll here) spouse is a connoisseur of self-diagnoses, currently rocking the coveted "autistic and bipolar with a sprinkle of ADHD for extra flavor" combo. Now, I'm not here to invalidate anyone's struggles with mental health. Seriously, been there, got the therapy bills to prove it. But when every single lack of effort, every forgotten responsibility, every moment of baffling inaction is blamed on the ever-shifting sands of self-diagnosed neurodiversity… well, let's just say my patience has officially packed its bags and moved to a remote island with no Wi-Fi.

Honestly, sometimes it feels less like I have a partner and more like I've adopted five extra children. There's the one who needs constant reminders to do basic hygiene (and still somehow misses the mark). There's the one who promises to help but then gets "distracted" by a dust bunny for three hours. There's the one who has epic meltdowns over mismatched socks. And don't even get me started on the emotional regulation of a toddler in a candy store. Oh, wait, that's also my spouse.

This blog, my friends, is my sanctuary. My place to vent the absurdities, find the humor in the utter chaos, and maybe, just maybe, dissociate a little without judgment. Think of it as my digital stress ball, my online support group (even if it's just me talking to the void for now), and my personal comedy hour rolled into one slightly unhinged package.

So, if you've ever felt like you're carrying the entire weight of a household (and an adult who should be contributing to it), if you've ever translated "I'll get to it later" into "Never in this lifetime," or if you just enjoy watching someone slowly lose their mind with a side of dark humor, then grab a virtual seat. The show's just getting started.