Stress

For about two years now, I haven’t really been myself. I think part of it is simply getting back on my feet, both financially and emotionally, from the fire. Whatever it is, it’s meant that I haven’t been comfortable, I haven’t gotten into a routine…I simply live day to day with no long-term plans, ignoring everything other than what I need to deal with whatever’s in front of me at the moment.

I’m tired of that. I’m tired of not having any plans on the weekend. I’m tired of not knowing that an adventure awaits me in the near future. I’m tired of chugging through life blind and deaf to the wonders around me.

So today, I took my first steps towards getting back to what I had before the fire.

No, I didn’t start a new diet or workout routine or buy a bike rack (though I think I will look into that later). Instead, I removed two stressors that have weighed on me for most of the last two years.

They’ve always been in the background, and I’ve always known that I was supposed to do something about them, but I never did. And time passed, and they just seemed to get bigger and bigger, and I just kept avoiding them and feeling bad about avoiding them.

This morning I woke up thinking that I would need to deal with those two things before I could move on to other things I need to do. I tried to figure out how I would do them, now that so much time has passed.

And then it hit me. I am never going to move forward in my life if I don’t forgive myself for the mistakes of the past.

These two things…I am never going to do them. I had to come to terms with that. Not only that, but I had to make things right with the people involved. I had to definitively shut the door on these two stressors, locking them out of my life once and for all.

So I did that as soon as I got out of bed.

I don’t feel infinitely relieved at this point, because there are still some things I do have to do, but without those two ghosts hanging over my shoulder, I feel better-equipped to do those other things.

There is also, I think, one more thing I need to forgive myself for. But that one’s even harder. Somehow, I have to forgive myself for something that wasn’t even my fault.

I’m not even sure how to do that. But now I at least feel like I can do it.

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Bleh

I’m feeling depressed and tired. I don’t know if the depression is fed by the tiredness or vice versa or if they’re just coexisting phenomena.

Regardless, bleh.

I had some strange dreams last night. In the first one, I was really upset about how much weight I’ve gained, and I was thinking that I would never be able to lose it without surgery. But I didn’t know if I would ever be able to afford it. When I said this aloud, my mother immediately sliced open my belly and started cutting away parts of my organs. At this point I could see inside there, and it looked like how it looks when you cut fat away from chicken with kitchen scissors.

I was thinking, I know you were a nurse, and I know you witnessed this sort of procedure before, but do you really know what you’re doing? But I didn’t say it.

Then she was done, and I said, “This wasn’t an official surgery, so I won’t be covered if something goes wrong.” I must have been so traumatized by the thought that I could die that that part of the dream became a dream, and I was telling Mom about it.

“And so I thought to myself that I would never be able to lose the weight without that surgery,” I said.

“Well, duh,” Mom responded, and pulled out my flat metal spatula. She promptly split me open with it and did the surgery, and I watched it happen the exact same way.

This last bothered me so much that I woke up for real.

Somewhere in there I also dreamed that my workplace was on fire. It wasn’t my office as it is now; it was a narrower room. I ran into the smoke and started grabbing stuff.

“I don’t want to lose everything again,” I explained, coughing. I managed to save several toys–all toys that I used to have at the old apartment, that were of course lost in the fire. One was my Darkwing Duck bank, and one was my Sailor Moon figure.

It’s kind of funny; I have never obsessed about losing those toys.

Unhappiness strikes again

Blogger keeps claiming that I can switch to Beta now, but when I go to do it it says I can’t. That’s what I get for having 2801 posts.

I don’t know how Beta is going to work with remote hosting, anyway.

I watched three Full Metal Panic! DVDs last night. I really enjoy the original series. It’s got just enough serious and just enough comedy.

At some point last night I was dreaming about FMP, though I can’t remember what the plot was, exactly. There was an explosion in the dream and I woke up, and my first thought was something like, “We can’t let anyone know this list of children’s names.” What list? I wondered as I staggered to the bathroom. A list of Whispered? (Maybe it was Santa’s Naughty and Nice list.)

I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. For some reason I just kept thinking about our old apartment and the fire and everything we lost. Whenever I do that I get upset and fret about what I might have been able to save if I had thought and acted more quickly. Really, if I had tried to save my computer or purse or anything in the office, I might not be here today. I need to just be happy that I survived. And even if I had managed to grab something, I wouldn’t have been able to save all the things I miss now, and I would just be fretting about them instead.

Then this morning when I went to the bathroom I was looking at our bed through the door and imagining myself crunching through fire rubble and finding just the metal parts of the frame, blackened and twisted.

I don’t know where all that came from. It’s been a year and a half.

My biggest source of depression lately is the slowly dawning realization that I will never live in Japan.

Also, I’m almost 30, and I’m nowhere near a stable household or career. I’m not really doing anything with my life. I do have a job I love and I am learning things there, but when I’m not at work all I do is watch shows on my computer. I still haven’t gotten to where I cook frequently, which means we eat out a lot, which is unhealthy and expensive. And I feel like if I want anything to be different, I’m going to have to do it, and no one will help me, and that’s just overwhelming.

It’s unfair to do this, because everyone’s situation is different, but I look at the people around me and am so jealous of their lives sometimes.

The minute my car door closed I was bawling. I wailed and sobbed and tears streamed down my face as I drove home. I thought what a loser I was that I couldn’t deal with this and stay at work. I thought that the whole reason we’re here in Sean’s parents’ house is my fault, because I don’t make enough money for us to buy our own place. I thought that I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make more money. I don’t know how to get a job that pays enough. I don’t know how to get clients who will pay me enough.

When I got home I warmed up last night’s leftovers and stood and ate them in the kitchen and thought that if Sean had never married me, he would be better off. He wouldn’t have moved into that apartment. He wouldn’t have lost all his stuff.

And if we hadn’t gotten married I might have gotten a real job when I finished college. I might not be such a total fucking loser. And I wouldn’t have lost all my stuff.

But I was selfish and stupid and wanted to get married right away.

Sean was in the shower. I wanted to hide from him. I didn’t want him to know I was here instead of out working, getting the money we need. But I also wanted to apologize to him for not being a good enough wife. If I was stronger I could handle this. I could get the work I need to get. I could figure out a plan. I could deal with the setbacks in my life. But I’m a wimp who always wants to run away, who gets overwhelmed and can’t even handle getting up in the morning and going to work. I’m so pathetic that all I want is to run home to my mom.

Cheryl said before that if we were going to stay here another six months that I had to get a job and that there would be “no more trips to Kentucky” that waste our money. I was mad at the time that she was treating me like a child, but maybe that’s all I deserve.

There wasn’t a good place to hide, and I didn’t feel like I had the right to hide. I felt like I should come clean with Sean, that he should know what a horrible loser he married. So I curled up in the bed and waited for him.

I could hear him moving around the room as he got ready to go to work. Finally he pulled the covers back so he could see my face and give me a kiss, and he said, “Bye, baby.”

“Bye,” I said in a voice that shook too much.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, and covered my eyes.

“Did you have a fight with Robert?”

“No,” I sobbed, “I’m just stupid.”

“You’re having a mood swing?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, honey. Get some sleep. Next time you see your doctor, tell her you’re having mood swings.”

“Okay.”

I reached up to him and he hugged me tight and then he left for work.

I wish I was good enough for him.

A lazy day

Today, I was supposed to look through boxes of stuff sent to me from my aunt Carol, but I didn’t. Instead, I spent some time on the computer, and ate a delicious turkey and cranberry sauce sandwich Mom made. Then I showered, and then I played pool with Dad. After that I watched a bunch of Smallville with Sean, and then I went over to play with Connor and Logan before bedtime. After that I went to Ben and Manda’s and forced them to watch Kyou Kara Maou. (Ben said it was “interesting” and “different”. Not really a resounding endorsement…however, he did have a lot of fun repeating Japanese phrases, such as “Maken da te?! Now I know what to say if I’m ever in Japan and someone gives me a demon sword.”) We watched the first 7 episodes (the beginning and the Morgif arc), and then episodes 45 and 42, just because they’re two of my favorites.

And now I’m home. If I’m not too tired, maybe Sean and I will watch more Smallville. We’ll see.

Oh, I didn’t manage to get a family portrait like I was hoping, but I did get some representative Christmas shots yesterday. They start here in the December gallery. Check out this picture Mom took of me and Sean! I cropped it and adjusted the color levels.

me and Sean in Mom's dining room

Mom says we look cute together, but then again she’s biased ;>

I think we’re visiting Grandma tomorrow. I’m not sure if we will get to see Jeff and Mavis after all; it sounds like they’re not coming in until Tuesday, and Sean isn’t the type to stop on his way out of town :/

The visit is almost over. I’m not really looking forward to going home. We’ve decided to stay with Cheryl and Reid for another six months, like they offered. Originally we were planning to hurry up and get a rental instead. Having looked over our finances, though, it’s really prudent to just stay and save our money. Sean’s car is considered a loss by the insurance company, so very soon we’ll have a new payment to deal with. Bleh. At least the insurance payout was a decent sum…