touching base
I think my last post was on my birthday last year.
God what has happened since. October of 09 I broke up with Jessi. It was heart rending. For a long time, and still sometimes now, I feel like it was a mistake. No one in the world could make love as hard. She made me laugh, cry, sing, fear, and fight more than anyone in the world. And when it was over, I was ground up like pulp in the bottom of an orange juice glass. Acid and wasted.
I'm getting to the part of my life where I'm settling into being alone. It's still not comfortable.
A month after we broke up her father killed himself. I wasn't there for her. I was just not there.
I hate myself for that.
I moved in with my mom again the night I left her. It was going to be temporary. I wanted space. I wanted time. Then space and time stretched and things never got said and then so much violence and fear and loss and I avoided it all and when I opened my eyes again she was someone else.
I got promoted to Front End Supervisor at work. I work about sixty hours a week. Full benefits. Stock options. Retirement. I hate my job. I don't hate it, but I'd rather do anything more interesting. It's retail. (Yeah, I hate it.)
I smoke a lot now. It's a full-blown habit. Went through a time when I stayed drunk, or high, or fucked up. Have been sober a few weeks now, completely. Weaned myself off. Liquor makes my stomach turn now.
Mom got cancer. They cut it out of her breast and we think she's going to be okay. That was a long month.
I really wish I could remember the year, but I can't.
Misty and Colleen broke up. Both are still my best friends, though I don't really get to see Misty much. I wish I could. Colleen is going through the same aimless self-delusion shit I am but she really does have options. I feel ungrounded and lost.
Last fall I threw myself into work. And if I wasn't at work I was at a bar. All autumn. All winter. Most of spring.
Not dating anymore. Am afraid to get that close again. Am afraid because who am I now anwyay? I'm staying with my mom and now I'm taking care of her. She's healing but it takes time. The psychological hurt of almost dying is sometimes harder than the knives and the drugs.
My finances have been pretty fucked up. Trying to be responsible. I want an apartment. I want a little table near the door where the mail will go. Stacks of bills: paid here, due there. I want organization. I crave stability.
I crave feeling like my feet are on terra firma. They aren't.
Writing a lot. Maybe will post them to this journal as a back-up or something. On MySpace blogs. Jc_prockup@hotmail.com or username Special Jessie. one word. Maybe one day I'll do something with my writing.
Good to touch base, but I'm not really feeling the autobiography. My stomach is turning inside out to eat my ribcage. I need to maintain a steadier diet.