It's almost 6:00 pm and I've had my pajama's on for almost an hour. I got off work at 3:00 today and had every intention of getting a movie, coming home, and hiding away from the world to feel sad and each chocolate and drink wine. Today was a hard day. Today I could've used a mental health day but I muddled through and I survived. I also realized how insanely nice it was outside so when I got home I got my pup leashed up and took him for a hike. When we got done I took him to the dog park. We got a good hours worth of sunshine and exercise which seemed to have boosted my mood a tiny bit. I still put my pajamas on when I got in, and gave Wrigley a new bone to keep him busy.
So here I am, watching a movie and sipping on some wine. I'm still sad. I still hurt inside, and I still want to hide away from the world. I think I've written before about how I hate to tell people when I have bad days or don't feel well because I don't want to be seen as weak. I have no idea when that idea started consuming me. I think it happened when I moved. I am so afraid of what people think about me that I am letting it consume me. In my mind I think that if I have a bad day everyone in my life is going to tell me that I shouldn't have moved away. This is not only completely false, but it is super annoying. I will have bad days for the rest of my life. I am human. Everyone has bad days. And then I realize that nobody probably gives a crap if I have a good day or a bad day. People have their own lives to worry about and how my mental status is fairing doesn't matter to 99% of the people in my life. And I don't blame them.
It's been a long week. Today was hard. Today I hate a lot of things. Today I hurt. Today I wish I had someone to hug. Today I wish I wasn't alone in this bit city that is my home now. Today I miss EVERYTHING familiar to me. I miss our old apartment in Sioux Falls; I miss our couch that we sold to a family that really needed it. I miss our ever dirty kitchen. I miss our unorganized spare bedroom. I miss the water pressure in our shower. I miss looking out the window to spy on neighbors. I miss it all, today. This place doesn't feel like home yet. I have a living room wall still lined with boxes that I can't unpack. I have a box of kitchen stuff that I don't have any room for. I have two kitchen chairs with no table. I have a recliner in the middle of the room with a tote for an end table. The majority of my bath towels are still in a box. I don't have a microwave to heat up leftovers. One of Matthew's Chicago Bears slippers is on the floor because I have no idea where it came from or where the other one is, so I just leave it there to make me think that he is here. The one clock I have on the wall has a dead battery and is stuck at 5:00 (HA! It's 5 o clock somewhere!) I still haven't slept worth a shit since the first night back in my own bed. I have run out of energy.
The only thing keeping me going is having a countdown on days until Matthew gets here. And it's too many. I fell apart a week or two ago, and I'm still trying to put the pieces together again.
So here I am, watching a movie and sipping on some wine. I'm still sad. I still hurt inside, and I still want to hide away from the world. I think I've written before about how I hate to tell people when I have bad days or don't feel well because I don't want to be seen as weak. I have no idea when that idea started consuming me. I think it happened when I moved. I am so afraid of what people think about me that I am letting it consume me. In my mind I think that if I have a bad day everyone in my life is going to tell me that I shouldn't have moved away. This is not only completely false, but it is super annoying. I will have bad days for the rest of my life. I am human. Everyone has bad days. And then I realize that nobody probably gives a crap if I have a good day or a bad day. People have their own lives to worry about and how my mental status is fairing doesn't matter to 99% of the people in my life. And I don't blame them.
It's been a long week. Today was hard. Today I hate a lot of things. Today I hurt. Today I wish I had someone to hug. Today I wish I wasn't alone in this bit city that is my home now. Today I miss EVERYTHING familiar to me. I miss our old apartment in Sioux Falls; I miss our couch that we sold to a family that really needed it. I miss our ever dirty kitchen. I miss our unorganized spare bedroom. I miss the water pressure in our shower. I miss looking out the window to spy on neighbors. I miss it all, today. This place doesn't feel like home yet. I have a living room wall still lined with boxes that I can't unpack. I have a box of kitchen stuff that I don't have any room for. I have two kitchen chairs with no table. I have a recliner in the middle of the room with a tote for an end table. The majority of my bath towels are still in a box. I don't have a microwave to heat up leftovers. One of Matthew's Chicago Bears slippers is on the floor because I have no idea where it came from or where the other one is, so I just leave it there to make me think that he is here. The one clock I have on the wall has a dead battery and is stuck at 5:00 (HA! It's 5 o clock somewhere!) I still haven't slept worth a shit since the first night back in my own bed. I have run out of energy.
The only thing keeping me going is having a countdown on days until Matthew gets here. And it's too many. I fell apart a week or two ago, and I'm still trying to put the pieces together again.
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