(no subject)
Ugh.
I think that dream I had was compensating for how shitty I feel right now. I must congratulate my subconscious for being so kind to me. How sweet of it to give me some love when I need it most, a little beauty, a little adventure, no sadness nor self reproach, just all out awe.
A couple of things I decided after listening to MP3 recordings of myself from Saturday night. One, I need to take George's advice on marriage and keep my mouth shut. Not that this is a marital question, rather, I talk too much, in my opinion, when I've had a bit too much to drink. About stupid shit. And I don't listen nearly enough. I slur my words and I don't like how it sounds.
Two, I say the word 'like' too much when I am drunk. I hate that. I used to make fun of people for that. It's when I'm telling stories. Yuck!
Three, Charlottesville makes me crazy. I may hide it well from time to time, but there is something there that gets in me and shakes me up and leads me astray, to places of myself that maybe don't need so much revisiting.
I can only realize that now, from Roanoke. Not when I am in it.
Roanoke's been crazy too. Today I had an all-out conference with the hospice nurse and social worker and my stepdad, the latter of whom had nothing but scolding for me. The hospice people understood my plight, I think, and after he left I dissolved into a puddle of tears. I was strong up until then, fought the lump in my throat, but jesus. There is only so much a girl can take. They got it though. It turns out the nurse I've been suspicious of has had similar problems with other families.
I had to leave them early tonight. All this shit, and all the fucking up I seem to have been doing lately made it hard to stay and be the strong one. I really wish I had someone to talk to but perhaps the fact that I don't means that this is not loneliness, it is solitude, and I should recognize that and take advantage of it.
God bless our Saint Maria Juanita.
I think that dream I had was compensating for how shitty I feel right now. I must congratulate my subconscious for being so kind to me. How sweet of it to give me some love when I need it most, a little beauty, a little adventure, no sadness nor self reproach, just all out awe.
A couple of things I decided after listening to MP3 recordings of myself from Saturday night. One, I need to take George's advice on marriage and keep my mouth shut. Not that this is a marital question, rather, I talk too much, in my opinion, when I've had a bit too much to drink. About stupid shit. And I don't listen nearly enough. I slur my words and I don't like how it sounds.
Two, I say the word 'like' too much when I am drunk. I hate that. I used to make fun of people for that. It's when I'm telling stories. Yuck!
Three, Charlottesville makes me crazy. I may hide it well from time to time, but there is something there that gets in me and shakes me up and leads me astray, to places of myself that maybe don't need so much revisiting.
I can only realize that now, from Roanoke. Not when I am in it.
Roanoke's been crazy too. Today I had an all-out conference with the hospice nurse and social worker and my stepdad, the latter of whom had nothing but scolding for me. The hospice people understood my plight, I think, and after he left I dissolved into a puddle of tears. I was strong up until then, fought the lump in my throat, but jesus. There is only so much a girl can take. They got it though. It turns out the nurse I've been suspicious of has had similar problems with other families.
I had to leave them early tonight. All this shit, and all the fucking up I seem to have been doing lately made it hard to stay and be the strong one. I really wish I had someone to talk to but perhaps the fact that I don't means that this is not loneliness, it is solitude, and I should recognize that and take advantage of it.
God bless our Saint Maria Juanita.