i wish it would rain down
I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping, and thinking, and functioning this week.
And here's the kind of person I am: I am so good at compartmentalizing different parts of my life that normally, any one thing can temporarily bump another thing from my mind. But right now they're all weirdly interconnected and one leads to another and that one reminds me of another and that brings me right back to the first.
Laurie had a grand mal seizure on Thursday and landed in the hospital. She shouldn't be having seizures anymore, since she had her pancreas out--like cancer that won't quit isn't enough, she also had some bizarre, rare neurological problem that was screwing with her blood sugar and giving her seizures. The "cure" was having her pancreas removed, which caused diabetes. She said her blood sugar was all over the place and that's probably the reason for the seizure, but the thing about a metastatic cancer patient is that probably, in the end, everything is all about cancer. It's in her liver and her lungs and her spine; there's not much left for it to attack anymore except her brain, and that scares me because it scares her, because I know how afraid she is of losing her mind, losing her memories, losing control.
Thursday night she didn't want to go to sleep and I had to keep promising her I loved her and she was going to be all right in the morning. Promising her she was going to wake up in the morning. "Do I go to hell if I lie to my best friend by accident?" I asked Ray later, trying to hold back tears. "What, did you tell her it was going to be all right? No. You don't. She needs to sleep, whether she wakes up tomorrow or not."
Right now it's early Sunday morning and the last conversation I had with her was Friday morning, before work. "Get some fucking sleep," I told her, and she said, "That's where I'm heading right now." I have no idea where she is or what's going on. Phone calls and texts unanswered and I haven't seen her online. I just don't know, and I'm scared to death.
Then there's the... fight? Something like that... I'm in with another friend. I've felt so distanced from her for such a long time now, like she absolutely hates me. Everything I do is wrong and I'm selfish and I'm a whore and I'm mean-spirited and I don't really understand. It's been going on for the better part of a year, and her way of dealing with it has been to rapid-fire questions at me about the most miserable parts of my life, like I'm being interrogated. Meanwhile she blows my questions to her off with one-word answers or empty statements. I don't really know her anymore, and I don't understand a lot of the choices she's made in her life lately, and she clearly doesn't understand a lot of mine, because she's somehow acquired, and is spreading, blatant misinformation. Anyway, that's been heavy on my mind for a while, and no amount of talking about it makes it any better, because I really just don't understand why she's been hating on me so much for so long, and I've been mostly trying to just let it go because I know that she's been having a hard time personally, but she's crossed a line with talking to someone else about how much she can't stand me instead of just, well, talking to me. When I called her on it, it just got even weirder, lies on top of lies, and then I dropped it for the weekend because this weekend is an important one to her, and sent her my best wishes and most sincere good thoughts and didn't get a response, which just kind of confirms the ugly and secret suspicion I've had for a while that she's become a drama junkie, and as long as things are complicated or bad she's right there to get the scoop, but as soon as you're happy, or you act like a genuine friend and just do something nice, she doesn't give a shit anymore, so fuck her. Yup. For the very first time in my life, I am fucking angry that someone couldn't take twenty seconds out of her miserable life to say "thank you," because I took an hour out of my mostly wonderful life to make sure she knew I loved her even though I am mad at her.
And then there's the thing that pulled me out of bed this particular night, the way it overwhelmed me, earlier, that I was thinking, oh, my God, I love you, I was not supposed to fall in love with you, I promised myself, and I ended up sitting on the sofa for hours, listening to the dumbass dog chase her own tail in circles, barking at it like it's an alien invader, looking to the ceiling and saying, just under my breath, please, Jesus Christ, please, I can't get hurt again right now, if it's going to hurt let it hurt tomorrow before I get in any deeper, but please don't let me get wrecked again, I just can't take anymore.
And here's the kind of person I am: I am so good at compartmentalizing different parts of my life that normally, any one thing can temporarily bump another thing from my mind. But right now they're all weirdly interconnected and one leads to another and that one reminds me of another and that brings me right back to the first.
Laurie had a grand mal seizure on Thursday and landed in the hospital. She shouldn't be having seizures anymore, since she had her pancreas out--like cancer that won't quit isn't enough, she also had some bizarre, rare neurological problem that was screwing with her blood sugar and giving her seizures. The "cure" was having her pancreas removed, which caused diabetes. She said her blood sugar was all over the place and that's probably the reason for the seizure, but the thing about a metastatic cancer patient is that probably, in the end, everything is all about cancer. It's in her liver and her lungs and her spine; there's not much left for it to attack anymore except her brain, and that scares me because it scares her, because I know how afraid she is of losing her mind, losing her memories, losing control.
Thursday night she didn't want to go to sleep and I had to keep promising her I loved her and she was going to be all right in the morning. Promising her she was going to wake up in the morning. "Do I go to hell if I lie to my best friend by accident?" I asked Ray later, trying to hold back tears. "What, did you tell her it was going to be all right? No. You don't. She needs to sleep, whether she wakes up tomorrow or not."
Right now it's early Sunday morning and the last conversation I had with her was Friday morning, before work. "Get some fucking sleep," I told her, and she said, "That's where I'm heading right now." I have no idea where she is or what's going on. Phone calls and texts unanswered and I haven't seen her online. I just don't know, and I'm scared to death.
Then there's the... fight? Something like that... I'm in with another friend. I've felt so distanced from her for such a long time now, like she absolutely hates me. Everything I do is wrong and I'm selfish and I'm a whore and I'm mean-spirited and I don't really understand. It's been going on for the better part of a year, and her way of dealing with it has been to rapid-fire questions at me about the most miserable parts of my life, like I'm being interrogated. Meanwhile she blows my questions to her off with one-word answers or empty statements. I don't really know her anymore, and I don't understand a lot of the choices she's made in her life lately, and she clearly doesn't understand a lot of mine, because she's somehow acquired, and is spreading, blatant misinformation. Anyway, that's been heavy on my mind for a while, and no amount of talking about it makes it any better, because I really just don't understand why she's been hating on me so much for so long, and I've been mostly trying to just let it go because I know that she's been having a hard time personally, but she's crossed a line with talking to someone else about how much she can't stand me instead of just, well, talking to me. When I called her on it, it just got even weirder, lies on top of lies, and then I dropped it for the weekend because this weekend is an important one to her, and sent her my best wishes and most sincere good thoughts and didn't get a response, which just kind of confirms the ugly and secret suspicion I've had for a while that she's become a drama junkie, and as long as things are complicated or bad she's right there to get the scoop, but as soon as you're happy, or you act like a genuine friend and just do something nice, she doesn't give a shit anymore, so fuck her. Yup. For the very first time in my life, I am fucking angry that someone couldn't take twenty seconds out of her miserable life to say "thank you," because I took an hour out of my mostly wonderful life to make sure she knew I loved her even though I am mad at her.
And then there's the thing that pulled me out of bed this particular night, the way it overwhelmed me, earlier, that I was thinking, oh, my God, I love you, I was not supposed to fall in love with you, I promised myself, and I ended up sitting on the sofa for hours, listening to the dumbass dog chase her own tail in circles, barking at it like it's an alien invader, looking to the ceiling and saying, just under my breath, please, Jesus Christ, please, I can't get hurt again right now, if it's going to hurt let it hurt tomorrow before I get in any deeper, but please don't let me get wrecked again, I just can't take anymore.