I did have soup on Tuesday. With a half piece of artisan bread, which is really just bread with a fancy name. It was good, though. I listened to more of Dragonquest while I sat in a corner booth, looking out of the window and the rainy outside world but seeing a different world as the voice from my headphones weaved the story for me.

When I was done eating I stayed and stitched for roughly two hours letting the story continue to sweep me away. Different time, different place.

I came home. And I honestly don’t remember much past that. When I was ready for bed Zane wasn’t tired yet. He was watching something on the computer I think, so I went to the living room. He was supposed to wake me up when he was done with his show, but instead he didn’t. He said he was afraid that if he woke me up that I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep and he felt like I needed the sleep more.

I woke up at 5:30 on my own. That seems to be a trend now. Only it sucks because at 5:30 I’m not ready to be awake, so it’s just annoying at the moment. If I went to sleep around 10 maybe 11 it would be fine. I normally function great on 6 to 8 hours of sleep. Not on 5 or less. It’s like the halfway point for me. It’s just enough that I’m not exhausted, but it’s not enough to feel refreshed and ready for anything. I’m an irritable grouchy dragon at 5:30.

Since I was awake I got up and went to the bedroom. Zane woke up enough to chat with me for a few minutes before we both went back to sleep. I didn’t wake up again until 11. The day already felt over.

I actually called out of work again and, once again, I don’t feel sorry.

Zane and I talked a lot yesterday. It was after watching an episode of Sherlock. We had a spat and I started on that well worn-downward spiral. He actually left the room telling me to enjoy the rest of my day, but it was sarcastic and hurtful and added to the feelings of failure I was already experiencing. I was regretting taking the day off because if I had gone to work I would have been around him.

I started to clean the kitchen in an attempt to keep me too busy to cry or feel. I didn’t want to do either of those things. The sink was a mess from the night before. No one ran the dishwasher so I had to wait for that to finish earlier in the morning before cleaning out the sink. I put the dishes away and had things mostly cleaned up before Zane came back out to talk with me.

He said it was frustrating that every time something “bad” happened, no matter how small, it triggered depression for me. I can understand why he’s frustrated with that. I’m frustrated with it. I don’t know how to stop it, though. It’s like I’m overly sensitive to everything. Every small, tiny display of disappointment makes me feel like I have failed.

I said I think it had a lot to do with how everything has felt bad since Friday. That was our fight at the ice cream shop. Then Saturday had the fight in the car. Sunday was fairly calm. Then Monday had the issue where I felt lied to.

I know there are positive interactions throughout my day. It’s so easy to remember the negative things, though. And when I feel like their still unresolved and more little negative things happen it feels like all that ever happens are negative things.

Zane gets over stuff way faster than I do. But for me the emotions linger. I don’t know how other people handle or deal with their emotional issues. For me they are like wounds. They don’t just magically go away. They aren’t water or spilled milk that evaporates.

Their slashes, scrapes, bruises. They hurt. And they feel very real to me. And just like an actual wound it takes time, days, sometimes weeks, for something to fully heal properly. And the more that it’s poked at, picked at, the longer it takes to heal, the more sensitive, tender, and sore the area around it.

That’s what the fights are like for me. And then the small negative instances that we have further inflame the feelings. Comments which are meant to be teasing aren’t because even though it’s a joke there’s truth in it. And knowing that it’s partially true hurts because I’m too sensitive to see the humor in the situation.

I don’t think I should apologize for that. I don’t think I should feel bad for handling emotions the way I do. I think I’m a pretty functional adult, most of the time. These past months are a poor example of that. I like that I feel things deeply, all things, not just the bad things. I feel joy, and happiness, and peace on what I feel is a much deeper level than most people, too.

Zane mentioned that it might be beneficial for me to seek out a therapist. That maybe having someone else to talk to would be good for me. I can’t say I haven’t thought of that myself. Even before Zane, while I was dating Warren #2 I thought about it. My mom has mentioned it in the past as well. It’s something I think I’m going to look into. Having more information like cost and such would at least let me know if it’s even do-able.

We also mentioned alone time. It always seems to come back to that in one way or another. It’s less than two weeks before Zane begins his new job. Less than two weeks and I’ll have the mornings to myself, the apartment completely empty of all other humans. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.

I mentioned to Zane that I was thinking about taking his first week of work off. A mental health week for myself. So instead of four weeks in December, I would only have three weeks, but I think I’m ok with that.

I think I need time away sooner rather than later. And I think I need it during a time where I would get the most solitude. So instead of it being next week like I had originally, knee-jerk reaction had decided, I think I’m going to try to tough it out for another week and a half so I can have eight glorious hours everyday to myself.

The thought of that much quiet, that much space, makes me want to cry in relief.

Things aren’t bad. Things are getting better. Things are going to be ok. It’s almost over and all I have to do is hold on. All I have to do is not fall apart in the home stretch.

After our conversation Zane and I were fine. I felt better. I normally do after talking with him. He ended up sitting in the living room watching shows on the computer with his headphones plugged in while I cross stitched and listened to my book.

At 6:45 I went to the gym for kickboxing. I drove since I was planning to stay for yoga afterwards and I didn’t think I would be up for walking much after two hours at the gym. Which I was completely right.

My legs were so shot. In a good way though. I showered when I got home. I stitched a bit more then went to sleep. I woke up at 4am this morning with a massive headache. I know it’s from not drinking enough water. I filled up my Gatorade bottle and drank most of it before going to the couch. I didn’t think I would be falling asleep anytime soon and I didn’t want to wake Zane up.

I ended up waking up at 9, so I guess I was able to fall asleep, when my alarm went off. I had planned to go running this morning, but the inside of my left ankle has some sharp soreness that I don’t want to agitate. So I guess today is going to be a rest day instead.

You win this time, Body. But only this one time… >.>

I could do yoga, but I’m still fighting off my headache. Sadly this is a day where physically I most likely should take the day off, but I’m not going to because screw you, Sickness.

I never use my time off as I “should”. I would show up to work on my deathbed in most cases. I’m going to keep drinking water and hope that the headache goes away and doesn’t turn migraine on me.

I need to scan my latest project. I need to start work on my assignment. I need to cook the Cajun pasta, too. Past that, there’s not a lot of needs for today. Shower… Coffee since that hasn’t happened yet. I still have about and hour and a half to enjoy the morning. I wish it felt like that would be enough.