I haven’t been dealing with anything.
Just deleting things, adding very little, except stress.
I have deadlines and obligations and some serious sadness.
Usurped from my throne as the Queen of Denial.
It’s catching up to me. Like a lion and a tired gazelle.
I have these days I call my Jane Says days and I just vow to try again tomorrow.
I’m gonna kick tomorrow.
It’s been slowly worsening.
I am still in my pajamas from two days ago.
I remember going out and getting groceries, thinking about grabbing boxes to pack for the move and not doing that.
Had lunch, yesterday???
But I came straight home and put my sweats back on. I did eat.
Then I felt dizzy and sick and spent most of the remainder of the day in bed. Vowing to try again tomorrow.
It’s tomorrow. I managed to walk the dog, and that is all.
I don’t remember it getting bad. I am just floating around, on auto pilot.
The dog next door is crying and I envy her, some tears might do me good.
Something…anything.
I broke out my new toy and almost decided halfway through just to stop, it wasn’t worth it and I just wanted to sleep.
I finished and it was nice for a minute, just not thinking about things.
Then I had to get up.
My stomach hurts, I blamed the penicillin I had been taking for a bout of strep throat, but I think it was that I hadn’t really eaten for…some number of days.
I posted the other day that “the sky was falling”. Susan, my ever watchful eye, retorted “NO it isn’t”.
All I meant was that the black clouds had rolled in, the trees were being bent in half and it was raining hard.
I normally love storms, I watched it barely, from my desk.
That storm passed, this one hasn’t.
I have people checking on me so I turned my phone off.
I had plans, I cancelled them.
I was fired 5 weeks ago, from a place where fired doesn’t mean fired, it means “we will call you when we feel like you have spent enough time in the corner or we are short on girls”. That time has passed. The calls have come to come back and I ignored them.
I don’t want to go back.
My PIC from New Orleans was part of a mass unfriending on Facebook. She asked to come back and I deleted the request. Sorry, not interested. The cool kids are all on drugs and trying to relate is like trying to smell the number 9. All y’all picked a washed-up cokehead stripper who wouldn’t know the truth or do the right thing if it fell in her leathery lap, over me. Having integrity and compassion at a strip club is as pointless as casting pearls before swine. Being a good/moral stripper is like winning the Special Olympics, ya, I win, but … at the end of the day, I was still a stripper.
The man I am in love with dumped me again, unceremoniously what was it now…last Tuesday? The one before? When I get numb, numbers make less sense than usual and time slips.
It has happened before, it was for the best, I am used to this, I need to work on me, this was a blessing, it’s okay, I am alright. Everything as it should be blah blah blah.
I believe those things.
I also believe I was trying this time. That I was close to a breakthrough, finally. And it didn’t matter.
Just like PIC, and everyone I worked with, he believed someone else over me and left me, alone.
Didn’t give me a chance.
In both cases I knew where I went wrong and was ready to own it. I wasn’t given a chance.
I was just starting to feel like I was good enough…Survey says “No you are not.”
I am feeling abandoned and now I am pushing everyone else away just in case they leave too, then I could say it’s my choice.
I know I have no choice but to be okay with this. I know that I had to quit work and he had to quit me.
But it really fucking hurts.
This is bringing back old feelings previously dealt with or so I thought. Him leaving. Started a landslide. I spoke to Giant recently, that was nice but it doesn’t change the fact that he left. I thought I had cried enough to wash that away. Nope. Gelfling is showing up in dreams, actually speaking now so I can hear him.
I know that soon, I will go back to sleeping right, eating better, functioning, packing up and moving on.
But just now I am paralyzed.
The book I am attempting to write, that has remained untouched for some number of days I am unable to calculate just now, seems overwhelming and daunting. I can’t open it just now.
Talking to people is freaking me out. I am fighting to shower. I have ‘have to’s’ coming that I can’t avoid. Therapy, tattoo, social shit…all things that require pants and driving.
I am scared.
I just came in from a smoke on my balcony. I saw a hawk, or maybe a falcon. I decided to just watch it instead of running inside for my camera and potentially missing it, so I couldn’t tell you what it was exactly. What I can tell is that it was new, young. Still learning some grace, fighting on the thermals and wind of this fairly chilly day in June.
I came back in, Razorblade by those who Fight the Foo is playing. And I feel a little better.
I have therapy tomorrow, my first real session and maybe going in vulnerable and lost is exactly the way I need to do this.
My past dictates that when I get like this I invariably have a massive breakthrough and reward waiting on the other side.
Like the first breath after a coma. (Explosions in the Sky)
