How to drive someone crazy from 1100 miles away

15 February 2007

Where am I?

I think I sink a little deeper every February. I wonder why? It seems last year I lost my mind in February for a little while, too, but I chalked it up to the credit problems and my car breaking down. I just can't seem to get a rhythym for the second month.
And oh, yes, I am losing my mind a little (a lot). I am questioning everything around me lately, over-analyzing the value of everything in my life, and wondering if I shouldn't just sell everything I own and move far far away. Away from everything and everyone I ever knew. Start fresh. Be someone else. Because this where and this who ain't working out so great.
I didn't have a Valentine's Day. I remember a time when I was so grateful for any reason to celebrate something, and love is something I can really get behind (natural highs, ya know). But I came home to Yoshi on Tuesday night and there were roses and donuts, and I couldn't bring myself to give a crap. I did nothing for him at all. I just let it walk by me and did not care.
OK, he loves me. And it is the kind of love that moves in with two cats and a baby, despite allergies and utter distaste for children. He puts up with all my crazy (and whoa, there is a lot of it. If you ever think you don't have a lot of crazy, try explaining yourself to someone completely unfamiliar with your particular brand of crazy. By listening to yourself objectively, you will know immediately just how crazy you are, and that they should put the sharp objects away fast without making any sudden moves.). He feeds me dinner every night and never complains about cleaning up. He's a wonderful man who doesn't deserve his girl questioning why she is bothering.
I am okay with my job, I think. I enjoy doing it well and strive not to do it badly. It's not the job.
The domestic situation could be better, but it's nothing I can't handle. Roomies are doing what they can to be bearable.
There are, admittedly, many things going on that are not for public knowledge, so I won't post about it here, but I feel they are a symptom and not the disease. For example, I am drinking again, two or three nights a week with friends from work. But like I said, not the problem, just an indicator of a greater problem.
I'm tired of being strong; I'm tired of surviving through a little more trauma; I'm tired I'm tired I'm tired. And it's not even as if I would be this strong without something propping me up (drugs, alcohol, meaningless sex, a man in my life, being a bitch). I just look back at my thirty years and wonder why any (or all) of that didn't kill me yet. Holy granola, what's it gonna take?! I feel like I've lost so much and gained so little, and eventually something will be big enough to take me down.
And right now, I just want to be taken down. I'm tired of being crazy and I'm tired of grief and I'm tired of mourning and I'm tired of feeling like a weak little girl because I don't know anyone else who feels like this. I'm tired of feeling expendable in my own life.

I don't know how to close this off. I'm just going to stop.


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