feel like I'm the flower trying to bloom in snow
You know those times you have those really bad ideas? I mean, your brain is already kicking itself, for whatever reason, and you're knocked so far down to earth that you think giving up and learning to breathe soil might be easier than standing up?
You go to your therapist's office of a standard Wednesday, and you know what's going to happen by now--dodge, parry, talk a bit about other people, ping, discuss how worried you are about the kids, sidestep, sigh and leave?
Feeling like you both managed to share some of your pain and withheld it, ha-ha-ha, she'll never find you, you is too tricky?
Yeah.
Stayed up too late last night. Knowing the appointment was today. Knowing exhaustion is part of everything, along with the hypoglycemic attacks, along with the goddamn leg going out, along with the slow-too-goddamn-slow rebuilding of the entire system, electrolytes to emotions, and how much it screws with my head that this isn't a weekend fix...
Well, couple days ago, someone made me an insane offer in world. We begged a day to think on it, my loves and I, and talked it over, and mostly received consensus to sell, simply because it was so absurd an amount. But we were still hesitating, and yestereve, when he came on, I decided to see if he'd push.
He spun and said, fine, I walk. And hung out in world. So I pulled the anxious woman maneuver--oh dear no, give me, erm, two hours, let me speak to people--
We were granted such. Confirmed everything. And then, I told him we'd sell. Because we couldn't refuse, especially with the then-added-on rent refund.
(I mean, we're talking...insulting, almost, to someone. I didn't get paid so much for the 300 gig, and that, before the collapse of Ginko, netted me a little over $350...that's dollars, not Lindens, yo.)
Aheh. Universe spins and laughs at me. Yo. We'll get there.
So. Go to bed, trembling and shaking, too damn early in the morning, three hours of sleep...alarm goes off.
Stumble out of bed, dazed, mystified, and find transport's arrived early. I end up rushing off without eating, without taking my pills, barely grabbed a book and bus fare.
And off I went.
Where I then had to sit an hour, shaking more and more.
My therapist finally gets to me, I laboriously haul the leg with the fluttering muscles up two flights of stairs, sit down on the couch, and wait.
And she says, "So, tell me what's been going on."
And I see this. I see her coming. I always see her coming. I smile a bit, inhale, prepare a reply, open my mouth...
and hear myself say, "Last week, I thought she died on me."
Mass chaos. Watering of her entire office. Completely downhill from there. Hour of hell.
I fight to reassemble at the end of the hour, she lets me, I go down and wait, get picked up, get taken home, just...completely hollowed out again.
Can barely think.
Finally realize, I might be hungry. On the heels of that: I can't think. On the heels of that: I need sleep.
Guess which one I pick.
So, three, four hours later, I get up. Shaking like a leaf again. No thought in the head that will circle more than three minutes.
Cat makes me go make food, and I have this dull resentment over being made to go make food when both hands are numb, but once in the kitchen, I see we still have bananas. I have one.
World makes a little more sense.
I assemble dinner--it's about a quarter to six--come in, set down a glass of milk (for me), bowl of chili dip (easy and comfort food), her big tea container, two spoons, and grab a protein bar.
Then start eating.
Now my brain feels like it's finally coming online, and I go to check email, and there's this polite WTF from the fellow who faciliates sales in the Caledon sims.
I say, should I be in world? (Being Wednesday, I'm still not usually in world.)
Yes, he says.
So I go in, we transfer the house deed, I take back the house. Spend most of the rest of the evening curled up with one of the loves while we debate Buffy fandom.
Log out around four ayem or so....yeah.
Right close to now.
Hang out for it, we're getting there.
So that bad idea? Y'know, when you're already kicking yourself over everything else that went wrong?
Well, I used to date this lovely man named yohannon. And my brain would not let it go. How's he doing? He was part of the reason my first journal entries on LJ were either poetry or im-friggin-penetrable CODE. How's his life going?
Turns out he's doing, more or less, okay, or seems to be. Not mine anymore, didn't want to do more than surface glossing. (Did find this, which is a gorgeous thing, which I admit, is lovely lovely, and if it doesn't have large sizes, I'd laugh at the irony.) But turns out he's doing well.
So. Overall. Checkmarks for the week:
* Cat continues not dead. Yay Cat.
* Box cutter incident? Got under my skin so damned hard because there was one time, when she was still driving, where she *had* considered just driving the car really fast into a wall. And that scared the hell out of me. And we'd talked, and she'd promised me then that she'd talk to me before she did anything like that again. And she handed me the box cutter, and my brain flashed into panic mode and didn't, until I ran through this memory earlier, really get out of said mode. (Even now, retelling this? Would have had me in another breakdown three days ago, two days ago...now? I'm twitching a bit, but...okay.)
* Sugar crashes occur more frequently with heavy-duty systems stress. Duh. So do muscle cramps (stress depletes potassium). Also duh.
* Selling the house in Penzance may turn out to be a really good thing. Yay me.
* And sometimes, you just have to follow the call of the stupid thing. Because sometimes, it's not that bad.
moar funny pictures
Fun. Heterochromatic cat.
moar funny pictures
Cats do many, many impersonations.
moar funny pictures
The immortal joke, now in lolcat!!
And this'll go on gaymerica--in fact, anyone wants to post it before your Fearful Leader wakes up, feel gorram free--later, but--we won.
*does insane mad dance of joy*
And that is all. Tired now, will say goodbye to remaining love (who's at work, man, I haaaate international long-distance love affairs, sheesh, save I keep falling for damned cool people) who's been holding my hand for the past two weeks, and stumble off to bed.
Momentous day, this was, in so many ways. Think I'm walking forward.
And now, we have to decide--do we pick the first day we were married (and then annulled), the second day we were married (and then annulled), or do we go for the hat trick and gain three friggin' anniversaries to celebrate? ARGH!
You go to your therapist's office of a standard Wednesday, and you know what's going to happen by now--dodge, parry, talk a bit about other people, ping, discuss how worried you are about the kids, sidestep, sigh and leave?
Feeling like you both managed to share some of your pain and withheld it, ha-ha-ha, she'll never find you, you is too tricky?
Yeah.
Stayed up too late last night. Knowing the appointment was today. Knowing exhaustion is part of everything, along with the hypoglycemic attacks, along with the goddamn leg going out, along with the slow-too-goddamn-slow rebuilding of the entire system, electrolytes to emotions, and how much it screws with my head that this isn't a weekend fix...
Well, couple days ago, someone made me an insane offer in world. We begged a day to think on it, my loves and I, and talked it over, and mostly received consensus to sell, simply because it was so absurd an amount. But we were still hesitating, and yestereve, when he came on, I decided to see if he'd push.
He spun and said, fine, I walk. And hung out in world. So I pulled the anxious woman maneuver--oh dear no, give me, erm, two hours, let me speak to people--
We were granted such. Confirmed everything. And then, I told him we'd sell. Because we couldn't refuse, especially with the then-added-on rent refund.
(I mean, we're talking...insulting, almost, to someone. I didn't get paid so much for the 300 gig, and that, before the collapse of Ginko, netted me a little over $350...that's dollars, not Lindens, yo.)
Aheh. Universe spins and laughs at me. Yo. We'll get there.
So. Go to bed, trembling and shaking, too damn early in the morning, three hours of sleep...alarm goes off.
Stumble out of bed, dazed, mystified, and find transport's arrived early. I end up rushing off without eating, without taking my pills, barely grabbed a book and bus fare.
And off I went.
Where I then had to sit an hour, shaking more and more.
My therapist finally gets to me, I laboriously haul the leg with the fluttering muscles up two flights of stairs, sit down on the couch, and wait.
And she says, "So, tell me what's been going on."
And I see this. I see her coming. I always see her coming. I smile a bit, inhale, prepare a reply, open my mouth...
and hear myself say, "Last week, I thought she died on me."
Mass chaos. Watering of her entire office. Completely downhill from there. Hour of hell.
I fight to reassemble at the end of the hour, she lets me, I go down and wait, get picked up, get taken home, just...completely hollowed out again.
Can barely think.
Finally realize, I might be hungry. On the heels of that: I can't think. On the heels of that: I need sleep.
Guess which one I pick.
So, three, four hours later, I get up. Shaking like a leaf again. No thought in the head that will circle more than three minutes.
Cat makes me go make food, and I have this dull resentment over being made to go make food when both hands are numb, but once in the kitchen, I see we still have bananas. I have one.
World makes a little more sense.
I assemble dinner--it's about a quarter to six--come in, set down a glass of milk (for me), bowl of chili dip (easy and comfort food), her big tea container, two spoons, and grab a protein bar.
Then start eating.
Now my brain feels like it's finally coming online, and I go to check email, and there's this polite WTF from the fellow who faciliates sales in the Caledon sims.
I say, should I be in world? (Being Wednesday, I'm still not usually in world.)
Yes, he says.
So I go in, we transfer the house deed, I take back the house. Spend most of the rest of the evening curled up with one of the loves while we debate Buffy fandom.
Log out around four ayem or so....yeah.
Right close to now.
Hang out for it, we're getting there.
So that bad idea? Y'know, when you're already kicking yourself over everything else that went wrong?
Well, I used to date this lovely man named yohannon. And my brain would not let it go. How's he doing? He was part of the reason my first journal entries on LJ were either poetry or im-friggin-penetrable CODE. How's his life going?
Turns out he's doing, more or less, okay, or seems to be. Not mine anymore, didn't want to do more than surface glossing. (Did find this, which is a gorgeous thing, which I admit, is lovely lovely, and if it doesn't have large sizes, I'd laugh at the irony.) But turns out he's doing well.
So. Overall. Checkmarks for the week:
* Cat continues not dead. Yay Cat.
* Box cutter incident? Got under my skin so damned hard because there was one time, when she was still driving, where she *had* considered just driving the car really fast into a wall. And that scared the hell out of me. And we'd talked, and she'd promised me then that she'd talk to me before she did anything like that again. And she handed me the box cutter, and my brain flashed into panic mode and didn't, until I ran through this memory earlier, really get out of said mode. (Even now, retelling this? Would have had me in another breakdown three days ago, two days ago...now? I'm twitching a bit, but...okay.)
* Sugar crashes occur more frequently with heavy-duty systems stress. Duh. So do muscle cramps (stress depletes potassium). Also duh.
* Selling the house in Penzance may turn out to be a really good thing. Yay me.
* And sometimes, you just have to follow the call of the stupid thing. Because sometimes, it's not that bad.
moar funny pictures
Fun. Heterochromatic cat.
moar funny pictures
Cats do many, many impersonations.
moar funny pictures
The immortal joke, now in lolcat!!
And this'll go on gaymerica--in fact, anyone wants to post it before your Fearful Leader wakes up, feel gorram free--later, but--we won.
*does insane mad dance of joy*
And that is all. Tired now, will say goodbye to remaining love (who's at work, man, I haaaate international long-distance love affairs, sheesh, save I keep falling for damned cool people) who's been holding my hand for the past two weeks, and stumble off to bed.
Momentous day, this was, in so many ways. Think I'm walking forward.
And now, we have to decide--do we pick the first day we were married (and then annulled), the second day we were married (and then annulled), or do we go for the hat trick and gain three friggin' anniversaries to celebrate? ARGH!