October 11, 2018

Maybe someday I’ll lose weight and make a million dollars a day and save all the dogs and help my family and run a marathon (this somehow seems the least likely to me) and watch my own show on TV and save the planet/reverse climate change and travel everywhere on my list.

The least likely one of those is actually lose weight. I don’t know why. I probably don’t care about it all that much. When I’m tired/bored/anxious/sad/annoyed/tired again/any other feeling, food seems like the only thing that makes me feel better at all.

Day 123 – Weighed Down

October 3, 2018

I am avoiding talking about all the real things. If I talk about the thing that makes me paralyzingly sad, I will be too sad to function. Duh. But really. It’s true. If I talk about my favorite TV shows and ice cream and the dumb thing I did today, then I can keep moving and breathing and getting out of bed.

I write this to be cathartic, but I don’t often use it that way. I talk about my relationship. I bitch about work. I drool over a cookie I ate today. I write about politics and then delete it because it just makes me angry and instead talk about my dog.

How the actual fuck do people survive devastating things without annoying everyone around them or collapsing into an immovable ball of tears or both?

Day 115 – I…Sad.

September 27, 2018

YOU GUYS. If I’m not having an anxiety attack, I must be asleep. Actually, I have anxiety even when I’m sleeping so never mind. Constant anxiety.

I am missing him so much. I don’t know what to do with myself. WHAT IF HE STOPS LOVING ME WHILE HE’S AWAY? That would be weird, right? Right? I can’t tell. Is this why people take meds?

My parents’ dog is not doing well. My mom will be devastated. Too much tragedy for my family. We do not have the greatest coping mechanisms, but we do have the worst. Like usual, I am dealing with all my feelings by watching TV and eating. What do other people do? When will I have better coping skills? Help.

Day 109 – So many feelings.

September 13, 2018

Well, I suck. What can I say? I keep missing days.

I felt good today. Useful, productive, dare I say – happy?!? I like the people at my job and the work keeps me distracted for the most part. I left work feeling like I’d actually done something with my day, had some fun interactions, and then had the evening free to do whatever I wanted (TV and food, obviously).

Am I forgetting? Am I a bad person? I felt relieved. I could breathe. Now that I realize this, it’s all gone.

Should I be grieving? Is this part of grieving?

I feel bad that I felt good. I’m ashamed.

Day 95 – Less grief, then more grief

September 6, 2018

I love organization, planning, and being a day behind in posting my blog. Not sure why. Just seems to be what keeps happening. Maybe this time it was because I am in the heart of the stress and grief, maybe it was because I got distracted watching TV and drinking chai tea, or maybe it was because when I’m in a disorganized, chaotic situation, I can’t think straight and I just end up shutting down like a robot with an “off” switch. Do they still have “off” switches? Do they still call them robots, or have we moved on to the more popular term AI?

Am I 100 years old?

Does anyone else feel that constant worried feeling in their stomach, followed by headaches, stomach aches, heart pounding, and insomnia? NO? Cool, me neither. I think sometimes that I’m very lucky I found someone who loves me despite this. I also think sometimes that I should probably go live by myself (and my dog, obviously) on an island somewhere and not interact with other humans.

Day 88 – Late as usual

August 15, 2018

Good news. Not related to my grief, unfortunately. That kind of good news would have me ignoring this blog and shouting from the rooftop.

The good news is related to the job search. Though I have spent more time since the interview worrying about whether it’s the right fit or not than celebrating, I have actually at least theoretically gotten a second interview at a job that might be a great next step. I know that “good news” sounded muddled in not good news and confusing language but that is because I AM CONFUSED.

In short, good news: had a successful interview that should supposedly result in a second interview. And I KNOW that to most people that doesn’t even sound like good news. But when you work in television, opportunities are few and far between, so I will take at least the second interview while I decide. I should say now that I haven’t given that enough weight. It IS exciting. As for the rest of it, it’s not exactly the job I want and the upward mobility isn’t exactly on the path I’d even want to be on but it’s money and it’s a job and it’s in TV and the show is interesting soooooooooo. I don’t know. But those seem like good things.

I don’t get to celebrate all that often, so I will take it. Side note – I spent the entire day in pajamas interacting with no other humans so that might be the real win for today.

Day 66 – Somewhat(?) Good News

July 8. 2018

Aaaaand I still haven’t made a decision about my work stuff. I have decided that the best course of action is to ignore it until it becomes impossible to avoid or they give up on me and go away. This is normal, right? I’m fine. Nothing to see here, folks.

The crime thriller I was watching finished (as in, I binge-watched it for two days), and it was definitely a thriller until the end, when they tried to wrap it up but it didn’t make any sense. Somehow – in this tiny town surrounded by walls with a gated entrance and 100 total residents – somehow there are several murderers, fires, missing people, etc. and it isn’t until you’re thinking back on it that you realize that it’s completely insane for so much to happen in one place but also, hot damn was that a good show. It kept me fascinated the entire time. So, thank you to the creators of such a plot-hole-filled murder mystery that had me gasping out loud and immediately turning on the next episode, no time to wait the 15 seconds for the next one to play.

One of my best friends moved away today. It seems like such an important moment, an important goodbye, but when it comes down to it, you’re just like, “Well, bye” and then they leave. I set down the playing card I was holding, stood up awkwardly, hugged him for longer than I would have, and then waited for him to walk out the door so I could run to the bathroom because I really had to pee.

Goodbyes are like that. They’re so built up but in the moment there’s just nothing to do but say the words and go back to the way your life was and will be from now on. You miss them, for sure, and you feel their absence from the moment it occurs, but there’s just nothing else to be done. They leave. You go pee and start playing cards again with one fewer player. How sad and uneventful at the same time that is.

I will miss him a lot and yet it’s not until right this moment that I even thought about him again, and that’s because I remembered he still has some of my stuff. He left 8 and a half hours ago and I just thought of him now for the first time since then because I realized he has my protein shaker and I probably won’t see that again. So which one am I sadder about? The shaker or the friend? Just kidding, it’s obvious. I hope they both come back.

Day 28 – Missing Friends and Thrilling Crime.

July 7, 2018

Aaaand the one from today…

I started watching a new show that has me absolutely fascinated. True crime is my first love, but my second love is a well-made whodunit murder show; even more points if it’s British.

And this one is British and holy hell is it good. They did a fantastic job creating non-stop intrigue and mystery. I was actually on the edge of my seat. That’s a real thing, it turns out.

Today was an actual, genuinely good day. I had a small anxiety attack at the end of the day when I realized there’s some work stuff I need to deal with that I’m not prepared to handle both because I have no idea what I’m doing – trying to keep that from everyone – and because I have no idea how to make this decision that’s time sensitive.

I think that’s the hardest part about being an adult. As a kid, all I wanted was to be able to make my own decisions. To not be dragged on any more hikes in the hottest part of the day in summer with my mom, who refused to tell me how much longer we had to go. To choose my own food, bedtime, work habits, friends, even. To decide for myself what color my walls are and where I take vacation.

Well, isn’t being an adult just a swift kick in the ass?!? I don’t really choose my own food, because I don’t make enough money to fill my fridge. My bedtime is whenever I can finally, momentarily, defeat my insomnia. Work habits are terrible and way worse than they used to be. I have two friends. My walls are white and baby poop green, and chosen by my landlord. I take vacations where my wallet will allow, which is my couch at home. Gone are the days of Hawaiian vacations and lazy summer afternoons and dinner that just appears on the table as if by magic.

Adulting sucks. I only get to make the tough decisions, like which bills I can pay this month and how to keep pretending I have any idea what I’m doing and whether to lie and say I’ve been working out every day or just own the fact that I haven’t left my couch. Decisions suck as well. It’s never Do I get the Mercedes or the Range Rover? And it’s definitely never Do I buy one house or two? It’s just the lesser of two evils, and I constantly pick the wrong one.

So thank goodness for mostly good days. Now to keep pretending I know what I’m doing with my life.

Day 27 – Anxiety, Decisions, but Goodness anyway.

June 26, 2018

Denial, Day 2

“You used to do your hair. What happened? Why don’t you do it anymore?” Mom, 5:37 PM, her car. As if I never do my hair. Like I just have a rat’s nest on top of my head and walk around proudly shunning normal human behavior.

I wanted to tell her that if she has nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything, as this is the advice I have received my entire life when I tried to share MY opinions. However, before I could say anything, she followed up her previous statement with, “I like this dress better on you. The other one looks like a bag.”

I let that sink in. I replied, “Why don’t you let me ask you for your opinions sometimes instead of giving them randomly, when I don’t want them at all?”

And she said, and I quote, “I don’t know. I just assumed you needed to know it looks like you’re wearing a bag.” Oh, okay then. Thanks, I guess.

We spent the day eating and watching murder. I also went to the dentist and made awkward conversation with the dental assistant about Prairie Dogs while she put a poky device and a small mirror in my mouth. (I could see Prairie Dogs outside the window, for the record. Didn’t make it any less awkward or mumble-y.)

True crime is our go-to show to watch. I don’t know what that says about me, except that if I murder someone, I will definitely get away with it. Except now that I’ve written this post. Now I won’t. Shame, because I really do have a good way to cover it up. Oh well, guess no murdering anyone.

Day 16 – Mom’s endless opinions and not dealing with my problems.

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.