October 22, 2016|
I slept in today, and when I looked around me after I emerged from my vehicle, the poissibilities seemed manifold. And the day seemed calm.
I don't know when that changed, but it happened fast. Maybe it was triggered by being told that the prescription I expected to come in today didn't and I don't know how to cope without it anymore. I havent had to just live in my own skin since I began sleeping in a car.Or maybe it was just interacting with my mother. Since interacting with her seems to cause a vague cloud of panic that I can't see and therefore can't excplain, but can feel all around me, without realizing that it's there.
I had to question why she expects me to have such a level of participation when she pushes me into the streets, and I barely had the wherewithal to repeat myself when she asked, and I didn't reelly want to.
Because she dismissed it. She always has an answer. "It" had nothing to do with "that". But here I am. Unable to use the bathroom in the house anymore. Unable to sleep in a bed anymore. Seemingly incapable of spending money rationally. It all just goes away.
Some event I couldn't remove from my calendar, of a dancer I know, performing at a bar I know that the previous girl went to. And I couldn't remove the event from my calendar. It just kept reminding me.
But I think I started thinking about all of it before I saw that part of the calendar today, because I saw that event while I was adding my anti anxiety pills to the calendar, having taken them.
There was a transition, though, a long unfolding transition, as there seems to always be, from contentment or peacefulness to a burning ashen war in my head. Like a carpet that is rotted underneath.
I jusst thought of what I could do, and the world went from being big, to being smaller, and maybe it was because not much time was left before dark. But all I could think of was her. I haven't spent much time thinking about her. I've spent less time being sad over her. Working every day has been useful for that.
The landscape went from being a landscape, to being a handful of places I associate with her. Nothing good. Just all the ugly moments between us. And then every time she came up in my writing, a crackle of tears would come through my skin. And then some good moments between us broke through.
And now I am a mess.