Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2007-02-18 09:54:53 (UTC)

Wallowing In Self-Pity and Cookie Crumbs


I know I've been simply terrible about writing. I have
this tendency of NOT writing when things are bad. I clam
up into myself and let things fester. Having this diary
has helped me so much in the past. I need to let it help
me now. I need to write. Since I've missed so many days,
I'll have to update using an abridged format. Just the
interesting or noteworthy parts will be included:

WEDNESDAY:
**
Shitty. Just shitty. What can I say? Valentine's Day is
shit when you're alone. Never have Snookums and I made
much ado about the day, but I've always at least gotten a
card or chocolate or sex. SOMETHING. This year, I didn't
even get to talk to him. I got an e-card. Which just isn't
the same. Not really. Work was a little hard for me,
because everyone I helped said "Happy Valentine's Day" to
me. I already had a knife through my heart and each good
tiding just twisted the knife a little deeper. I was glad
to get off from work, go to the gym (which no one was at)
and just work out the pain. Working out at least gives me
that temporary high of endorphins. It's better than
nothing.

THURSDAY:
**
More shit. Kiki had her weekly speech therapy appointment.
I wasn't expecting any bad news, just the normal
enrichment activities. Coloring, matching games, puzzles.
All was fine until the last 5 minutes. Her therapist said
after getting to know her a little more over the past few
weeks, she feels that Kiki is more delayed than originally
tested and wants to have her enrolled in the early
intervention preschool. Which meets twice a week, then
she'd also have her speech therapy, too. So, three times a
week Kiki would be going. I have no idea how that's going
to work out, but I'll do what I have to. Kiki comes first.
I just wish this wasn't happening. No one (unless they
have a child like Kiki) fully understands what it's like.
She's so hard to understand. She can't get her needs
across and she gets so frustrated. I don't know what to do
half the time and all I'm ever told is she's delayed.
Nothing much is happening though. She's in speech therapy,
but from what I'm seeing, nothing is really being done any
different than when she's playing at home or at daycare.
Maybe I'm just not getting it. I don't know.

So, that news made the rest of the day suck. I was
completely thrown off for the rest of the day. I was
constantly spacing out. I nearly killed myself when I
drove into a busy intersection on a red light. I don't
know what I was thinking. Thank god I stopped, but the car
was completely over the white line. All the way in the
intersection. The light turned green quickly and I went on
my way. Glad to be alive, kinda.

Work was okay. It was dead, so I had lots of time to think
about Kiki. I want what's best for her, I really do. I'm
starting to wonder if I'm what's best for her.

More pain purging at the gym. I look forward to it and
loath it at the same time. I'm so strange. I don't really
want to work out, but it feels good once I get started and
the happiness (although fleeting and artificial) is worth
the time and effort.

FRIDAY:
***
I woke up late, to the sound of the phone ringing. It was
Debbie our landlord, telling me the rent check didn't
clear. I wasn't surprised really, I knew there wasn't
enough money to cover the check, but she doesn't usually
cash it until after the 15th, so I was pretty sure it
would be okay. It wasn't so, that came back to bite me in
the ass. I didn't call her back right away. I needed time
to think up a good story other than I'm depressed and
don't give a shit about anything, not even my bills or my
perfect credit or any of that shit. None of it matters
anymore.

Work was a great diversion. I put on a happy face and
holding it there for 8 hours helped me forget my problems.
Until I stepped out at 5pm and they all came flooding
back. That's the strange thing about problems. Forgetting
about them doesn't make them go away. Ain't that a bitch?

I had a really good workout at the gym. I'm reading a Toni
Morrison book, Song of Solomon. Reading is a great
diversion and doing it on the elliptical is an even better
one.

When I got home. I called Debbie. I couldn't think of a
good lie, so I just told her the truth. Carelessness,
because that's all it was. I had enough money in my wallet
to put in the bank to cover the check. I just didn't care
enough. I just don't care. Nothing, nothing matters.
Absolutely nothing. So, she said she was coming over this
morning between 8-9am to pick up a check for her
hellacious fees ($115 for a bounced check, can you believe
that? Is that even legal? I'm sure it is. She's a real
estate agent. I doubt she'd do it if it wasn't legal). I
had to make a very important decision at that point. Do I
stay up late, when I'm drop-dead tired already, and clean?
Or do I go to bed now and hope I get up early enough to
get it done (it was 9pm at that point). I chose decision
#2. I went to bed. I did not pass go, I did not collect
$200. I crawled in bed, in my clothes and all and slept.
For 8 hours straight. For the first time in a month. It
felt so good.

SATURDAY:
***
Today. I woke up at 5am and dragged my ass around the
house trying to make it presentable for my landlord. I
demand perfection and perfection is hard to come by when
you're depressed and can't muster the desire or energy to
wash the dishes, take out the trash and put laundry away.
So, I tried. My very best. I got the dishes semi-done. I
cleaned off the dining room table and the living room
wasn't messy to begin with (of course it is now after Kiki
got ahold of it). By 8:45am I was exhausted and kind of
wondering where the hell she was. She called just as I was
wondering this. Just drop the check off at the John L.
Scott office in Port Orchard. Thanks lady. I'd been up all
morning cleaning for you and then at the last minute, you
say you're not coming. What gives? So, I crawled back in
bed. Clothes on again. New clothes, but still.

Gen woke me up around 11-something. We'd planned on
getting coffee, so I got out of bed reluctantly. Annie was
playing computer games and Kiki was chilling in her crib
picking her nose and eating the buggers. It only took us a
minute to get ready, then we headed out. I dropped the
stupid check off at John L. Scott, then we headed to
Silverdale. Everything was fine and dandy, until Kiki got
her hand smashed in the door. By that time is was almost
2:30pm and both Kiki and I were in need of a nap, so we
came home.

I stopped by the Marina Mart and picked up some Oreos and
when we got home, I did what I'd been wanting to do all
day. I crawled in bed with a glass of soy milk and my
package of Oreos and I ate myself to sleep. I woke up in
the dark, feeling much better. Much better by my
standards, meaning I didn't feel like bumping myself off
at that moment. I gave the girls dinner and put them to
bed. Kiki sleeps more than any person I know. I was
surprised she went back to sleep, because she'd taken such
a long nap, but I'm not complaining.

Snookums called tonight. I sent him an extremely pathetic
e-mail about all the pain and suffering I've been going
through and I instantly regretted it, because there isn't
a damn thing he can do about it and I don't want to make
him feel bad for leaving (like he had any damn say about
it). So, he called to see if I was okay. I started crying
and babbling about how much I missed him, how hard things
are for me without his help, how much I love him and need
him here. I'm really good at making him feel helpless and
frustrated. It's so inconsiderate of me, but I'm selfish
and he's never called me on it. So, I still do it. Just
another of the many things I need to work on. He made me
feel a little better and now I think I'll be okay.

I'd better get to bed. I have a meeting in the morning. It
feels like we just had a store meeting, but oh well. Ciao




Ad: