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Dec. 12th, 2021 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogmajickIt feels like time rushes forward, always, unrelenting. I'm so tired. I'm tired to my core and every day I have to go to work, I have meetings, I try to have friends, and all I ever want to do is sleep. I want to future to stop rushing at me. It was literally just sunday and now it's friday again.
I don't feel good. My guts are a mess, I'm fucking drained. My back hurts. My head hurts. And I'm fucking sad. I can never tell what's going to set me off. Last night we were plotting out game stuff and an idea got tossed out about my pup along the lines of "maybe he's sick and doesn't know it" sparking a cool House MD plot idea. But that popped on my screen and I was in tears for a half an hour. Facebook gave me another ad for end of life services. I know mastectomies are routine, but I'm legit concerned about how much anesthesia I've had and I can't stop worrying that this will be my last Christmas.
* * *
Well that was yesterday and today I don't feel much better. Less drained after a good night's sleep, but still so drained.
I got up and cleaned the bathroom and did the dishes. I want to bake but no one's awake and I don't feel like doing it right now. I don't feel like doing anything right now. I have a meeting with the union president at noon and I'm supposed to go hang at Shelly's, but I also need to bake bread and make cookies and do a little more for Christmas.
And all I want to do is cry. I just want to lay in bed with my headphones on and cry and feel bad about myself and my life and all my choices and every decision I've ever made and every unlucky thing and everything I lament or regret. You know, like I was 15 or some shit.
My hair's too short, but maybe I should dye it red. "Tell me, on a scale of bangs to Vampire Red Manic Panic, what kind of Shit are you Going Through?"
* * *
And now it's sunday. Again. Then unrelenting march of time.
Yesterday I had a meeting with the union about some really exciting shit. It's all got to go to a vote, but if it works out it'll be a huge win.
I'm going to bake something today I think.
Have I mentioned I'm sick of crying? Because I'm fucking sick of crying about every fucking thing all the time.
I need to go to the store so I can pee. Cody has been in the bathroom for an hour and a half and I have to pee so fucking bad I'm going to drive to the grocery store just to use the toilet. 25 years of marriage and I have never been able to figure out why in the fuck he has to be in the bathroom that fucking long. Does he pee one drip at a time? He doesn't take his phone in, so it's not that. He just fucking sits in there as far as I can tell. It's one of the most annoying fucking things about him and I know he thinks it's funny how annoyed I get, but there is 1 toilet for 3 butts and I have to wear poise so you know when I need the bathroom, I NEED the bathroom. But now. It's now 2 hours, and he's still in there.
Update: He came out just as I was putting my coat on to go.
* * *
I am struggling a lot today. As much as I try not to, I'm ruminating on death. I'm not scared of the cancer, it's tiny, and YET. I'm stuck on this idea I'm going to die under anesthesia, bc it's not unheard of, and so as I move through life I do it with this notion it might be the last time. This might be the last Christmas I decorate with Jake. This might be the last time I bake bread. This might be the last Christmas Teegan has a nana. And I feel like I need to be really strong because I don't want my kids to be scared, or worried I'll die. As much as I'm sitting here in agony, crying about if this will be the last time I do whatever random thing, it kills me to think of my kids missing me. Of my kids feeling like I do when I miss my grandma. But I don't want to be strong. I want to be honest, but I can't and that's probably some sort of therapy-worthy trauma response. So I crawl into my little safe space here and I will admit that I am scared to die. It won't be bad for me, but I am burdened with the grief of losing people I love and I never want my kids to feel that air-stealing, heart squeezing, throat closing grief because of me. And my cats won't know where I went. That absolutely does me in. The thought of Liebe looking for me. The thought of Tochka walking around and calling for me. I absolutely cannot keep going on like this.
I don't feel good. My guts are a mess, I'm fucking drained. My back hurts. My head hurts. And I'm fucking sad. I can never tell what's going to set me off. Last night we were plotting out game stuff and an idea got tossed out about my pup along the lines of "maybe he's sick and doesn't know it" sparking a cool House MD plot idea. But that popped on my screen and I was in tears for a half an hour. Facebook gave me another ad for end of life services. I know mastectomies are routine, but I'm legit concerned about how much anesthesia I've had and I can't stop worrying that this will be my last Christmas.
* * *
Well that was yesterday and today I don't feel much better. Less drained after a good night's sleep, but still so drained.
I got up and cleaned the bathroom and did the dishes. I want to bake but no one's awake and I don't feel like doing it right now. I don't feel like doing anything right now. I have a meeting with the union president at noon and I'm supposed to go hang at Shelly's, but I also need to bake bread and make cookies and do a little more for Christmas.
And all I want to do is cry. I just want to lay in bed with my headphones on and cry and feel bad about myself and my life and all my choices and every decision I've ever made and every unlucky thing and everything I lament or regret. You know, like I was 15 or some shit.
My hair's too short, but maybe I should dye it red. "Tell me, on a scale of bangs to Vampire Red Manic Panic, what kind of Shit are you Going Through?"
* * *
And now it's sunday. Again. Then unrelenting march of time.
Yesterday I had a meeting with the union about some really exciting shit. It's all got to go to a vote, but if it works out it'll be a huge win.
I'm going to bake something today I think.
Have I mentioned I'm sick of crying? Because I'm fucking sick of crying about every fucking thing all the time.
I need to go to the store so I can pee. Cody has been in the bathroom for an hour and a half and I have to pee so fucking bad I'm going to drive to the grocery store just to use the toilet. 25 years of marriage and I have never been able to figure out why in the fuck he has to be in the bathroom that fucking long. Does he pee one drip at a time? He doesn't take his phone in, so it's not that. He just fucking sits in there as far as I can tell. It's one of the most annoying fucking things about him and I know he thinks it's funny how annoyed I get, but there is 1 toilet for 3 butts and I have to wear poise so you know when I need the bathroom, I NEED the bathroom. But now. It's now 2 hours, and he's still in there.
Update: He came out just as I was putting my coat on to go.
* * *
I am struggling a lot today. As much as I try not to, I'm ruminating on death. I'm not scared of the cancer, it's tiny, and YET. I'm stuck on this idea I'm going to die under anesthesia, bc it's not unheard of, and so as I move through life I do it with this notion it might be the last time. This might be the last Christmas I decorate with Jake. This might be the last time I bake bread. This might be the last Christmas Teegan has a nana. And I feel like I need to be really strong because I don't want my kids to be scared, or worried I'll die. As much as I'm sitting here in agony, crying about if this will be the last time I do whatever random thing, it kills me to think of my kids missing me. Of my kids feeling like I do when I miss my grandma. But I don't want to be strong. I want to be honest, but I can't and that's probably some sort of therapy-worthy trauma response. So I crawl into my little safe space here and I will admit that I am scared to die. It won't be bad for me, but I am burdened with the grief of losing people I love and I never want my kids to feel that air-stealing, heart squeezing, throat closing grief because of me. And my cats won't know where I went. That absolutely does me in. The thought of Liebe looking for me. The thought of Tochka walking around and calling for me. I absolutely cannot keep going on like this.