Dear Hearts,
Now what. I had a pretty bad episode today. G-Pa went to dinner at Aunt Faerie’s and is bringing me back something
I am supposed to—rather I will go to Burning Bed tomorrow and finish the stupid reference library that no one will use and cover the front desk for a staff meeting. I don’t want to.
I’m gonna admit it. I am better.
(Kate crouches down and darts her eyes in every corner waiting for the rattlers to strike.)
But, now what?
Appointments, part-time volunteering, meetings, The Star, Walmart…It all feels so overwhelming. What a fucking pussy.
Just because the patient is “guarded” doesn’t mean the patient “should or can resume all normal activities.”
I don’t know what to feel. I guess I am falling into routine here. That’s good, but also scary.
I am afraid to go to Burning Bed tomorrow. Honestly, I don’t know why.
Right now I am having what a call a OBE (Out of Body Experience). I am like feeling who is this—who am I? It’s like I’m looking down—who are you? Whose life is this? It passes pretty quick but it’s unsettling.
I want to scream. Just scream.
What triggered the episode? Talking to G-Pa about the house. And, I am being totally fucking honest—I didn’t want to go to Aunt Faerie’s. I wanted to hunker down today and not leave the house.
Now that I am getting better…now what?
I know I have to face My House and moving out. Fuck. That is terri-fucking-fying. That is gonna hurt and I am gonna backslide.
When you have been in the Darkness so long and then you finally are able to “stand in the sun” your eyes have to adjust. Your body has to adjust. It’s disorienting. I think that is what I am feeling. Yes. Disoriented.
I am going to be fucking 40 years old. Half my life. Five years ago Gram died March 27. I can’t believe it’s been five years.
G-Pa just came home with my “chow” and now he will watch three hours of WWF. Yes, my diminutive little G-Pa who comes up to my nose loves WWF. He also shoveled ALL the snow today even though Aunt Faerie and I were very clear that I was going to do. He promised. Then I wake up at 10 and it’s all shoveled. He was anxious that Mutant, the neighbor who loves to check out my boobs when I smoke outside in the summer, would come over and shovel and then ask for money. He used to do that before I moved here. Mutant would shovel like three times a day and then, without knocking, come in the house for his money. G-Pa is too nice to turn him down. (Why is G-Pa going out the back? WWF starts in a minute.) Mutant has taken advantage of G-Pa and I have had some very polite, yet firm words with him. Mutant knows I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me—except my tits.
G-Pa was anxious Mutant would come over so he shoveled the drive, back and front stoops, the sidewalk, the patio. I told him to “GET IN HERE” before he could finish the back patio that did not need to be shoveled. But, every night I hear him ask tell Mom on the phone that he didn’t “accomplish anything today”. Well, today he did. We worry—he ought not to be shoveling. But, I think that I would rather have him go down shoveling than lying in a bed. That is not to say that I am gonna back off and let him just do everything. I am not ready for him to go…
Ahh, now I can hear the TV and WWF.
I digress.
Five years ago I came year for Gram’s funeral. I wish I could go back five years. I used to believe in Destiny, Fate—that a lot of things are just meant to be. (God put Trump in the White House? WTF God?) I don’t think so much more about that anymore. I just try to follow The Path. I wish I could go back to 2012. I would do things differently—maybe if I just did one thing differently, I could have changed the trajectory of my life. Maybe I wouldn’t be on disability and Medicare at 39. But then, who would live with G-Pa?
Five years ago—January, February—I just felt it was the right time to buy a new laptop. My old one was getting tired. I remember saying to Dad, “I just feel like I need to do this now.” At $1,700 I did. A 13 inch MacBook Pro. I remember sitting at My Great Grandmother’s desk thinking I won’t have to buy another one until I am 40 and then I will have paid off my student loans. I didn’t even ask Asshole about it. I just did it. I am so grateful that I spent that money then.
Now I just got a second-hand iPad Mini from Cousin (GOD, I AM GRATEFUL.) But, I am feeling guilty about buying a $15 keyboard. I have bonds in the bank from my grandparents that equal about the price of a new Mac. I haven’t touched that money because it is my “MacBook Pro” money.
But, the iPad that I got for $100 and the $15 keyboard…that’s what I can use, if God forbid, this computer gets tired. Five years ago, I would have been like fuck that! I get a MacBook Pro—nothing second-hand! Mac all the way baby. I didn’t wear Walmart shirts then either. I also didn’t know five years ago that I had enough money to support myself and buy things—it would’ve been better if I had. Asshole got half of my savings anyhow.
I am not going to say that I lowered my standards. I changed them. Today when I got ink on my $80 Calvin Klein jeans, I was very unhappy. I have three pair of Calvins and I cannot really afford to replace them. Now two of them have small stains. I may invest in a pair of Calvins. Come on. If I stain the Walmart shirt, whatever…but if I stain my Calvins. But, a girl has to have some standards by God!
My life is…much smaller…and I am not sure what I mean by that expect that…I never, ever could have predicted the last five years. I have regrets. Was it all meant to be? If not—how do I even live with the randomness of the world?
CHRIST ON A CRACKER!
If I had gotten a Restraining Order on Asshole or gas lighted him…If I hadn’t let him the house over me like a guillotine…If I had bucked and stood up for myself at work, could teahcing have worked for me...If I had not been with T…if I had walked away from T. sooner. If I hadn’t OD’ed or gotten ECT. If...What If...
Half my life. I was gonna be a writer. I was gonna…
“I coulda been a contender.”
I am better. I am way better off not teaching. I don’t regret being here for G-Pa. But, I don’t see the future with Hope. I still look at the Future and see…nothing. Okay, here, I hope for not being suicidal. Although, I still can’t promise God…
I am hungry and I’m gonna eat Aunt Faerie’s dinner she sent home for me.
Maybe if I cut that last tether, My House, even if backslide…maybe…Hope…”The Golden Sky…”
Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless
In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.
PPS: Is my life lighter as in weight? Is that what I feel? Because even though I gotta cut those tethers I am so fucking afraid, God.
PS: God, please have a plan. Please, please, please don't let all this be random.
PPPS: Not at Peace with this House Deal. God? Mother Mary? St. Jude?
PPPS: Not at Peace with this House Deal. God? Mother Mary? St. Jude?
Grateful For:
Health
Amish Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls
Angel
iPad
Family
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