2 Dry 2 Cry: Day 44

I think I might be going through something.  This bridge of time that I fight every year and fail against.  Perhaps I need to just accept that I am always going to be sucked into the undertoad, as it were.  I’m always going to be thrown overboard.  Reach exceeding grasp.

I have a headache.  Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.  Last night a woman I did not see but heard, kept banging and trying to get into our house until we called the police.  I didn’t fall properly back to sleep until it was far too late. I feel, actually, like hell.  From the carbs, of course, and my usual weird desire to just fuck everything over until it is entirely beyond recognition.

I think my Valentine’s Day present from the guy who is not my boyfriend, but he is – even if he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I definitely don’t want him to be – will be a used D&D book.  This is sweet and good and kind, but I have a headache and actually, writing that out makes me want to set the world on fire.

I have been reading all sorts of travel materials about Porquerolles.  It would make for a great honeymoon spot. Provided you could get your imaginary husband to leave the house.

Everything is garbage and shit and I want it to stop.  I have done no other writing.

So.  Yep.

Complete and Total Meltdown: Day 42

I think, briefly, I capitulated to the great despair.   I am not sure if I am still on my knees before it, but I think, perhaps, I will not be long down.

I gave myself an inch and that inch became a hundred miles.  I feel tired and bad and like a devil just has been awoken from the tranquilizer dart I thought would see me through to safety.

I was thinking about Valentine’s Day and how nicely nebulous the dark space is where my heart is seated in my chest.  I was thinking about my mother and how I don’t like how the chemo seems to be using her in the way you would imagine the cancer would if it had its way.  Exhausting, wizening, enervating.  She’s upbeat, she knows what’s up, but I have to overwrite the story in my head.  I am not seeing her enough so every time feels a bit surprising.  I’m not seeing her because I want to hold everything at status quo in my mind.   I want everything to push forward for me without doing a dang thing, and I want everything to stay steady for her without doing a dang thing.

Meanwhile, at work, we learn about a little boy who has benefited from the things we make.  A bajillion heart defects and issues and surgeries and problems and finally – we do a thing and he is free to be a little boy.    I mean, I don’t do it, but I answer phones for people who make ads for people who do it.   Or something inexactly, but legitimately related.

So I haven’t lost any weight, despite a non-zero effort.  The kitchen’s a nightmare, I don’t want to cook in it.  My car suddenly turned on a low tire pressure sign halfway through the drive this morning, causing an inadvertent panic.  They’re asking me to do things I don’t know how to do.  It’s fine, but I’m unsure.  Tired.  The activation energy over the past few days – I know what I need to do. I just do not do it.

So I ordered a pizza and have sickened myself on it and it’s here next to me and I’m contemplating which is the greater evil – to eat it and swallow the shame of having bought it and blown yet more money on one-off food fixes, or to toss it and blow that money and risk constantly daydreaming about wasted pizza and use that to justify another wave of carb-tasia.

It’s not good.  It’s just not.  I am thinking about how I didn’t even think or care about my goals.  How I didn’t feel qualms about breaking the plan.  How I know how this feels and I know how it feels to string yourself out on guilt aftershocks after the initial binge.  I know and I know that I don’t know if anything is going to be different even though there’s a thousand and one reasons to make this time the time.

Why can’t we make this time the time?

Lazy Arse: Day 41

  • Clear desk  (added some cups to it)
  • 2+ loads of laundry (did 1, half of which is still in the dryer)
  • Make crack slaw (Nope)
  • Prep oncoming week. (Got my email checked and nobody’s murdered or murdering.  Have an idea of what to wear tomorrow.  If I swap out my toothbrush head, maybe we’ll have something.)
  • Read 5+ pages of something good  (what are books?)
  • Start outline for Sela (damnit, no)

I did one load of laundry and wrote    That’s about it.  Ate more of my edge of impossibly bad low-carb meal choices.  Am feeling like a huge failure, in a manageable way.  I mean, I might want to go get Starbucks tomorrow because I’m such a horrible failure.  But I have been running hard and fast and I suppose sometimes this is just how I am going to do.

I think I checked my weight and was not pleased and that probably started the spiral.   Sure.  And J. saying some things.

I am always so sad when I get to the trip and I haven’t done the work.    Gotta get my shit up on this.

Plastic Love: Day 40

I have to turn off the light on the dryer.  As soon as I hit five hundred words, I will do that.

Too many cut corners and you end up not knowing where you are.  So tonight, even though I am tired, and there’s technically only 30 minutes left in the day to do it, I am going to buckle down and write my five hundred words.

I had a good day, actually, dear diary.  I did a few things that mildly improved my lot.  I am thinking about all the books I read about cleaning and organization and the one thing that truly helps me is getting things into containers.  Containers actually do force me to visualize how much of a thing I should have rather than believing I have at least as much air as is in my house to cram random shit in.  No,  I have two bookcases and that is sufficient for the number  of books I need to treasure and own.  The rest can live at the library or online.  I now have dividers for the socks and underthings (sorry internet for informing you I own underthings) and I already feel as though I have so much room.  I am trying to kind of Unfondo?  Sort a combination of my own making of Unfuck Your Habitat and Marie Kondo teachings.  Seeing what makes me feel good and glad to have in about 20 minute bursts.  In my case, I have a lot of things I know I want to get rid of, but what holds me back is the idea that I have to do the whole house at once or in one process.  I will never get to that stage.  Probably ever, ever.   So instead, to whirl around and say, shit, I have 5-6 misshapen and useless sports bras that I dig through every time to find the one I like and still wear, along with a huge armful of tights that have runs in strategic places where you could still wear them if they stayed exactly where they should.  Mostly this never happens, but I keep the tights because you’d have to think about yourself as an inordinate destroyer of tights and an overall bad person were you to grant them to the garbage pile.  I have tried to avoid such determinations, but perhaps, in the end, that is exactly what I am.

The dear cat is very unwell, and back to the vet she went today to get IV’d and have fluids put under her skin because she was refusing to drink or eat.  Now she’s perked up a bit, a very little bit, and her eye is all sorts of gross, but I’m hopeful about that.

I’ve watched a lot of Abroad in Japan, for a bit of culture.  There’s certainly more on offer in every respect, things to do, things to read, things to worry about tomorrow.  I’m feeling positive, generally, mostly because the alternative feels so exhausting and there’s boxes out there to put all your bobby pins in so…stay calm.

Kritish Bitties: Day 38

I am positive.  I am continuing my war, losing a few stray battles that are more about perfectionism than long term damage.

I am taking a breath, friends.  No rush.  I want to record my boss smiling and complimenting and making a joke after I’ve been so clenched and worried the past few days.  That my effort is being noticed, that I am somewhat respected, that things in that sphere are not wholly off the rails.

I want to record the sublime peace of a morning ride into work in the snow when you’re not petrified

Tomorrow is Friday as has so oft been said.  A small park bench to sit and hold the world still for inspection.  I have to leave  some time for sleep, and to gather the water I left behind in the bathroom.  So I’ll pluck at some story and that will be that.