12,641 Days Alive
There’s a weird storm front currently blowing through our area. Gusty winds and rain later tonight.
Kind of turbulent weather for this time of year. Yay global warming?
Kinda matches how I’m feeling, at least gastrointestinally. I’ve been sick all day. Not exactly fun and it’s the second day in a row. I even threw up at work, but that might have been nerves from my sixty day review. I threw up when I got home, too, but not as much. Mostly just dry heaving.
Whatever this stupid stomach bug is, I hope it goes away soon.
I love writing. I love words. I just wish I used them better sometimes. I hurt someone’s feelings today, and didn’t mean to, because I was feeling lonely and misplaced.
Sometimes, a lot of times, it feels like people don’t want me around. I don’t know if it’s the anxiety or the bipolar or whatever other fuckity brain chemistry I have going on, but it’s how I feel. I try to remember to reach out, when I feel like this, but sometimes the brain gremlins win.
I had an argument today. And apparently I’m in the downswing of a depressive episode. Because I have zero energy, zero desire to exist. And no spoons to do chores. And that’s not fair to my roommates. Whether or not I’ve made dishes, I like to do them for my roommates so they don’t have to worry about them. And lately I’ve just been down and out.
I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’m trying not to hit that negative spiral where everyone would be better off without me underfoot. I am. I’m trying to stay positive. But this divorce thing really has me fucked up and I called the Crisis Center at lunch. Unfortunately I panicked and hung up. It’s just a few more weeks until health insurance. Just a few more weeks before I can find a therapist. I can make it. I have to.
I just want to stop hurting.