I have no gentle amusement, nor distractions tonight. (Which, maybe, is what I usually aim for.) Even reading my favorite blogs hasn’t helped much.
More automobile bad news – this after just dumping buckets o’ cash into it this month. (And I am bitter bitter bitter because it probably means no laptop for me. Even our planned just-after-Christmastime trip back east to see family and a dear friend get married is in jeopardy. I’m so tired of living thousands of miles from my family.) Just praying it will get us all the way to the inlaws and back — I don’t think it’s too dire. Yet.
I may have to go somewhere tomorrow and pay to have something done about my hair. I am distressed to discover that I’m actually caring about it, noticing it at all for that matter. And not happily so.
Apartment inspection tomorrow (why? nobody knows, but I suspect they want to check for mold), so there has been much frantic cleaning, trying to get things looking decent. Mostly by my husband, not me. I don’t do frantic very well. My personal response to pressure is generally to completely shut down. Not a good thing. Regardless, the fact remains that we have way too much crap for the size of the place, and so things never look really right. And maybe I’m finally getting to the point where I actually want them to.
I had an epiphany a couple of weeks ago that I felt really helped my general outlook (I want to write here about it — I will make the attempt sometime next week though I am scared spitless to do it), and I was really feeling better for a while. But … I think I haven’t translated it into enough concrete action, and I’m slipping again. Can’t remember why I should bother. With anything. Getting up in the morning — why, again?
Saying it that way sounds kind of humorous. But I don’t feel funny today, more like stomped on. Dragged down by all sorts of horrible feelings. I hate that I can’t really trust my feelings, because they get skewed, they lie to me sometimes, and I know it, but I’m still held in thrall to them. I know there are things that I can and should be doing about it all — that’s part of the problem. The weakness of my habits, how paralyzed by inertia I feel. Not to mention ashamed to admit it all. I really do admire and even sometimes benefit from the sometimes painful honesty of bloggers like Heather at OMSH and Loralee. But though I am trying to share some here, now, the pain and shame of it all is hard to break through. Especially (?) because I know it’s not going to last, it will get better – or at least I have a flicker of hope that it will. (How nice to realize this fact, that I do actually have some hope, because sometimes, sometimes it feels in pretty short supply.) Well, how about an experiment – will I actually regret pressing publish on something like this? I guess we’ll see.
Sometimes – I feel like nothing will ever change, nothing will improve, I’ll never improve. And boy do I need it.
Sometimes – I feel completely useless, and I know it’s really my own fault for sitting around doing next to nothing way too much.
Sometimes – I feel like I’d rather be dead than live one more day in this body. Like I could choke on the self-loathing. Literally. Like I don’t have any idea how I got here, to this point, and no idea how to get away, and I probably couldn’t do it anyway.
Sometimes – I don’t know how much longer I can do it. And by it, I mean… anything.
Sometimes – I can’t seem to see anything without a dark pall of gloom and despair over it.
Sometimes – I feel so alone.
Sometimes – I feel like I have no idea what to do next, no idea at all – in the next five years, year, month, week, day, even (or especially) five minutes. And I can’t focus my thoughts, not if my life depended on it. I know I’m smart, intelligent – so what’s my problem?
And yes, today has been one of those days. I could go on but if I don’t hit post now I’ll miss the time deadline. Good thing it’s NaBloPoMo, so this time next week this post will be lost to the depths of the archives. And good riddance.