Never got a chance to finish this writing yesterday
Hey Chromebook,
I’m low energy today… story of my life it seems.
Yesterday was pretty good. The days previous were also pretty good. I worked with my FA on Friday. I worked with a float nurse on Saturday and even though she hadn’t been at our clinic in a while, it was a pretty good day. Sunday I spent most of the day sleeping and didn’t give myself shit for it. It was nice. Monday I worked with the float nurse again and, again, had a decent day.
Tuesday’s counseling was decent. I felt better after the session and got a bunch of cleaning done.
The apartment is still a mild disaster from having to empty the rooms for the bedbug guy. I haven’t put a lot of my stuff away since I want to paint my room. Sort of silly to put everything back just to move it again only to have to put it back yet again…
While I know logically it’s the smarter thing to do, my brain is having a hard time with it. Everything is a mess and it’s like sandpaper in on the inside of my skull.
Ox and I had plans to paint yesterday. But sexy time happened instead. It was very much needed, but it left me emotionally raw afterward. And I guess that, too, is part of the story of my life recently. When we have moments like that it tears away all of the superficial bullshit layers of my life. All of the stress of the mundane things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. It allows all of those walls and distractions to come down and I’m left face to face with the core of who I am and what’s really underneath the surface; down in the dark quietness.
I realized something yesterday. I don’t think I’m as ok as I pretend to be; as I think I am.
I had the realization that if Ox died, I wouldn’t want to fight and struggle to figure it all out all over again. I would want to call it quits and tell Life it won and just give up. It was rather sobering.
My life shouldn’t hinge on another person, but at the moment I think it does and that’s not fair or right to Ox. He can be and is a support, but he shouldn’t be the one factor that keeps me going.
I realized that mortality is also probably the real reason I haven’t had an interest in actually finding another person for us to play with. I don’t mind being part of a D&D group, but the thought of forming a deep, close bond with another person is a hard “no” inside my head because I know on some level they’ll ultimately die and I would have do deal with the loss.
And so that’s where I am today. Wondering if I’m as healed as I’ve been thinking I am. Am I still weak? Am I still broken? Will I ever be “normal” again? Why is mom’s death affecting me so deeply that after four years the one bond I’ve allowed myself to form could be my undoing? Is that the type of person I want to be? Is that who I really am?
It’s confusing and it’s tiring. It makes me feel like I’m still just pretending at my life and going through the motions rather than actually dealing with the things that need to be addressed. The things deep down that really matter like my grief.
I know my grief is more of a spiritual issue rather than a logical one. I know I still need to find the motivation to care for myself again like going to the gym. How do you find motivation when you’re constantly tired? When life is constantly throwing other shit at you that needs to be addressed before the other things on your to-do list?
Yesterday, after counseling, I felt ready for battle. I was ready to start tackling all of the different areas in my life, one at a time, starting with my room. I don’t feel that right now.
I could start with putting some of the clothes away then move on to repacking some things…