June 27, 2018

It’s 3 AM where I am right now, and I’m no closer to sleep than I was at 5 PM. I am, however, close to the pasta salad I’m currently eating. And the true crime murder show I’m obsessed with. This guy murdered the couple who lived in his childhood home believing them to be HIS OWN PARENTS while in an alcohol-induced blackout. Whaaaaaaat? He didn’t even know he did it until he got sober several years later and started having nightmares about it.

The pasta salad is all gone. Paul (murderer) got 25 years. 3:08 AM.

I have had this bad cough for a while, but I’m so used to it I barely notice it anymore. I coughed today and my mom said, “Don’t you want to be healthy when you’re older?” Oh. Okay. Let me not cough anymore by choice since that’s obviously what’s happening. Moms… amiright?

I faced my fears today. It took me all day and radically accepting the situation (and being farted on by my mom’s dog for hours straight) to finally go. I left as soon as possible. I felt pathetic. I felt like a coward. I haven’t shaken those feelings.

On the flip side, I peed on my leg a bit. (Unrelated to facing my fears. Related to needing to pee and not getting to the bathroom in time.) I also thought there was an animal being attacked in the backyard so I went after the predator with a spatula, only to realize HOURS LATER that it was actually some birthday balloons rubbing together and creating a high-pitched squealing noise. But those invisible predators better watch out for me and my kitchen utensils…

Insomnia, stalking fake predators, peeing on myself, buying more clothing online – what a productive day, if I do say so myself.

Day 17 – Mommy Issues and Insomnia

June 25, 2018


The day has arrived. I am home with my mom. It is…really here. I am really here. This will be quite the week. But let’s start with what I told you I was going to look into –

Denial. I am beginning my grieving process at Denial, or so says the 5 Stages of Grief. Denial has been my constant survival technique. I know this step well. I am very comfortable here.

According to the always trustworthy Internets, the stage of Denial exists because it “helps us to survive the loss.” True, Internets. True. I have been on this stage for two years now.

I surprised my mom for her birthday. When I walked in through the garage door and into the kitchen, she jumped up and down and hugged me, then she pulled back and looked at me carefully, saying “I thought you’d at least do your hair.” (I had just done my hair for a wedding…it’s as “done” as it ever will be.) Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she has a lot of opinions. After I gave her a tolerant smile and said, “It’s nice to see you, too,” I pretended she didn’t say that. Denial.

I proceeded to eat some take out I found on the counter before she abruptly said, “It’s possible to have a real job, you know. You could still get a normal job. You could work. It is a possibility.” I ignored this, as well. Denial #2. After she said that, I started chewing on my nails because what else could I do? She immediately smacked my hand away from my mouth and said sarcastically, “well that’s attractive.” I told her that I didn’t care about being attractive, but she said that I should care and I should “stop cannibalizing myself.” I asked her, “then what am I supposed to do?” She didn’t have a good suggestion…

Then the opinions/questions/judgments progressed to “when are you getting married?” and “aren’t you going to have a wedding?” and “are you just going to end up alone?” And this was in the first hour and a half of being here. I told her I plan to end up with my dog. So, needless to say, it’s going well.

I don’t know why anyone moves on from this stage. Except my fingers hurt a lot from biting the nails down below the quick.

Day 15 – Denial is in full swing and also my mom

June 24, 2018

I ran into the bathroom to hide the fact that I was crying (I also had to pee). I stood up after a while, when I thought I was done (crying), and dropped the bottom of the long dress I was wearing right into the toilet. The only good thing about it was that it turned sad crying into tears of “of course I did this” and “why am I always so myself.”

When I left the bathroom, I was asked if I wanted to change. Apparently the toilet-dress combo was obvious. I declined because I was rocking that dress before and I would rock it after. Also, I don’t have any class or standards. Just stay upwind of me.

I am doing a terrible job of grieving. Someone told me today that I’m just coping, not actually dealing. I thought I was dealing. I thought I was 14 days into the grieving process. He told me I am skating along, coping, firmly in denial. I denied this. But in the dark of night (while watching TV alone), I’ve thought about this and realized that maybe I am. Tomorrow I will look up the 5 Stages of Grief (I’m sure you all know them, but I don’t, so whatever) and I will see if I can actually move through them.

I’m just afraid that if I grieve, it means I’ve moved on from the person. And I will never, ever move on from them. I will never, ever be the same again. I know I’m supposed to go through the grieving process, but I don’t know why.

I also lost $300 in a casino, got puked on by a drunk guy waiting to get on a school bus, fought with someone about a hypothetical scenario so loudly we were hushed by the DJ, spilled a drink on myself, ripped the dress I’d rented, and got a bad sunburn on my elbow. An overall successful wedding I would say.

Day 14 – Haven’t grieved yet, dropped my dress in my own pee.