Stress
I haven't been posting much lately, in part, because I started my new job on Monday, but largely because I've been sick. I finally realized last night that the sickness is stress-induced (or stress-exacerbated).
I think I need to have a really good cry to let out some of the emotions that I'm bottling up, and I almost managed it earlier this evening. My mom has been sending me updates on my grandpa's health. Two days ago, the news was that he has been placed in the "long term care" unit of the hospital. Today she told me that when she went to see him, he was crying, because he's tired of the constant hospital visits.
(I've decided not to document a lot of these visits over the past several months because I personally don't enjoy reading about the health of someone else's seemingly distant relative--it always seems like comment whoring to me. And I hate explaining how close I am to my grandparents--that I saw them daily when I was growing up, and it was really hard to see my grandpa this past August because it looked like he had aged a decade since last winter. But there. Now you know.)
Anyway, I cannot imagine my grandpa crying, because it was something I never saw in the 18 years that I saw him every day and in the seven years since. It makes me ill to imagine him looking so vulnerable and defeated. But I choked back all of my tears because Fouad was here, and I didn't want to talk about it with him.
I am also stressed about my health insurance, about my overpriced rent, and about my (presumably) unfaithful boyfriend. I'm stressed about my new job--not because the work is stressful but because big new situations like that take a tremendous toll on me. I'm stressed about my friendship with Leon and even felt homesick for him, the guinea pigs, and our home in California. He knows this; we had a Skype video call, and I bawled and expressed regret, after which he told me that he finally feels single now.
Last but not least, my stress-induced illness has made me stressed, because I wonder when it will go away. I can't eat. My sleep is disturbed. I am in a lot of physical pain--the kind that justifies sick leave but, of course, I couldn't possibly take a sick day during my first week of work.
I think that I just need rest, but Caroline's birthday party is this weekend, and that also stresses me out a bit. The last time that Caroline got drunk in my (and Jirka's) presence, she got so upset about having such shitty birthdays in the past that she cried, set a quota for the number of party attendees, made specifications for a type of cake that is not commercially available in Prague (and neither Jirka nor I bake), and jokingly let me know that she's expecting a pretty damn good gift from me because Jirka won't be paid in time to buy her anything for her party. And, of course, I don't know what I'm giving her.
Caroline took most if not all of these requirements back when she was sober, but she won't be sober at her party, so I can't expect complete rationality.
(And, by the way, I love Caroline, so I'm not complaining and I ready don't mind it, although it does fall at a pretty inopportune time.)
Anyway, this isn't helping matters. I need to rest.
I think I need to have a really good cry to let out some of the emotions that I'm bottling up, and I almost managed it earlier this evening. My mom has been sending me updates on my grandpa's health. Two days ago, the news was that he has been placed in the "long term care" unit of the hospital. Today she told me that when she went to see him, he was crying, because he's tired of the constant hospital visits.
(I've decided not to document a lot of these visits over the past several months because I personally don't enjoy reading about the health of someone else's seemingly distant relative--it always seems like comment whoring to me. And I hate explaining how close I am to my grandparents--that I saw them daily when I was growing up, and it was really hard to see my grandpa this past August because it looked like he had aged a decade since last winter. But there. Now you know.)
Anyway, I cannot imagine my grandpa crying, because it was something I never saw in the 18 years that I saw him every day and in the seven years since. It makes me ill to imagine him looking so vulnerable and defeated. But I choked back all of my tears because Fouad was here, and I didn't want to talk about it with him.
I am also stressed about my health insurance, about my overpriced rent, and about my (presumably) unfaithful boyfriend. I'm stressed about my new job--not because the work is stressful but because big new situations like that take a tremendous toll on me. I'm stressed about my friendship with Leon and even felt homesick for him, the guinea pigs, and our home in California. He knows this; we had a Skype video call, and I bawled and expressed regret, after which he told me that he finally feels single now.
Last but not least, my stress-induced illness has made me stressed, because I wonder when it will go away. I can't eat. My sleep is disturbed. I am in a lot of physical pain--the kind that justifies sick leave but, of course, I couldn't possibly take a sick day during my first week of work.
I think that I just need rest, but Caroline's birthday party is this weekend, and that also stresses me out a bit. The last time that Caroline got drunk in my (and Jirka's) presence, she got so upset about having such shitty birthdays in the past that she cried, set a quota for the number of party attendees, made specifications for a type of cake that is not commercially available in Prague (and neither Jirka nor I bake), and jokingly let me know that she's expecting a pretty damn good gift from me because Jirka won't be paid in time to buy her anything for her party. And, of course, I don't know what I'm giving her.
Caroline took most if not all of these requirements back when she was sober, but she won't be sober at her party, so I can't expect complete rationality.
(And, by the way, I love Caroline, so I'm not complaining and I ready don't mind it, although it does fall at a pretty inopportune time.)
Anyway, this isn't helping matters. I need to rest.