Not sure if I should be writing today, but here we are. I have several phone calls to make, a schedule to nail down (for two people, double lives are so exhausting… it feels like there’s more than 2 personalities though) and basically a pile of historical trauma to deal with. And laundry to do.
I’m supposed to go over the boy’s house to do laundry tonight, cook him dinner, he’s getting his second shot today. And I know all the while other people are going to be bothering me, about work, about this house, about everything. And he will hate it just because he doesn’t feel like he has my complete attention. And then when he has my attention, he’s going to just sit there and talk about his work.
I think I might cancel tonight. I feel like he might understand. I don’t care if he does. I feel like I want to click away, but in doing this exercise, amongst other things, I feel like it’s my little window of time to be selfish and frivolous. Still, I have a pain in m neck like I’m biting too hard, more specifically like I am holding onto a tightrope by my teeth. My posture today reflects that. The playlist I’ve chosen today reflects that I’m trying to ease out of that.
I did have dreams last night, but I don’t know if I want to go through the trouble of untangling them. I’ll keep them as a tangle… my writing today is rushed, I know that I don’t have enough time to spend here. I took melatonin last night, as the doctor’s appointment that I thought I was going to have this morning did not end up happening. However, rather than a good night’s sleep, it was all interrupted.
I listen to my horoscope almost daily now, and it habitually feels like whatever is predicted happens to me the next day, not the day of. Is this the result of mental posturing, that I absorb the information, and over sleep, let it disperse and cast a net underneath my consciousness (I originally wrote subconscious, but I do not like the structure of that word anymore – it indicates that these thoughts outside of consciousness are lower, less, or anything other than simply what they are. Consciousness is the specific here, all that lies outside of it should not be defined in contrast to it. It is so much more than just not conscious, it has it’s own live, several lives, that should be explored and appreciated. Like Minorities simply being anything other than white. Wtf, we are not actually minorities), priming me to find the pattern an it’s key elements like a treasure hunt in my waking life the next day. Could be. I’m still going to do it.
Just like I’m probably going to still go over the boy’s house and do laundry – it does need to be done. I have to mentally prepare a task list of things that I can do while I’m there so I don’t feel so bad. Like I’m wasting all of my time. I feel like I might be wasting my time here… although to be honest, I don’t spend that long here anymore. And it’s the time where my brain is fuzzy and not really good for much else anyway, it’s like doing my mental morning stretches for the day… at least that’s what it’s like today.
I felt a clench in my ribcage, like my ribs were the teeth that they look like, biting down hard on the bit that is my sternum. I take a deep breath to loosen their grip on my heart. I thought of my ex, of the house, and how he inevitably will let me down again and fail to sign up to closing, the acidic shot running down my throat in response, a sharp fast spurt. Settling in my stomach, where it will stay. Not today Satan, not today.
I may cancel tonight. I still haven’t decided. This boy can’t even. There was going to be more to that sentence but there doesn’t need to be.
I accidentally told him I loved him, then told him I made a mistake saying that. I’m being honest.
But the truth is, They actually don’t want to know.
I have to call this guy, for some transient date on my ever increasingly ambiguous calendar. Why does it feel like it’s floating in another dimension, Schrodinger’s schedule.
Well, I don’t want to know about your bullshit email chain either. If you’re going to talk to me about work, then go do your work while I do mine. I would be incredibly cool with that, actually I would really love that. That would be excellent.
I do have to cancel my hotel reservations for this weekend, I don’t want to be charged for that.
When we, the boy and I were talking about arrangements for the weekend, which was basically a tantrum with him saying he doesn’t even want to go, did he ever consider that maybe I don’t want to go now either? I don’t. But I will anyway, because that is what I always do. I hate the point in planning where it changes from “I want to do this” to “I know that I will regret not doing this” and that is pretty much where everything goes with him. It was the same with my ex, and I think it’s been the same with other people in my life as well, maybe my brother?
I love my brother, so what I’m about to say can never apply to him, but I will make sure that he is the only exception.
I don’t know what to call this condition, but when I have a name for it, I will make sure that I have no one (other than the exception) in my life that deserves that label.
I told my Father that there was only room for one narcissist in my life, and that spot was taken, with him proudly sitting on that throne. Whatever that other mental monster is that sucks the life out of everything that could be fun and good, I only have one reserved seat and my Brother is always welcome ( it occurs to me that brother is ambiguous, and Brother, specific, I like that). There are no chairs left for this boy’s bad behavior.
You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone… I’m thinking about my coffee.
If brother is general, and Brother is specific, then why does it need the specifier “my” in front of it every time?
It occurs to me that he would be the person to ask for an answer to this.