Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Journal 144 Stress and Sadness

It's almost 10:30 my bedtime.  The little blue pill that promises to pull me deep into the land of sleepy-time has been ingested.
I didn't leave the house today (at all). I didn't want to.
I saw hours last night, 3, 4, 5, 6, and when 7 came, with a pounding headache I said, no ... can't.
As in : face the day with all its insanities and it's unkind people, and its misunderstandings, and the feeling of "it's all on my shoulders", atlas-like, and made the decision.
Work from home, only half-broken at this point.
Called my therapist's office to wrangle an appointment. No dice. Had to duke today out by myself.
Worked on one design, service people calling. Installers calling (ReJect). Heart pounding. Head pounding. One day away won't fix it all. Will fifty? Emails with coworkers. With clients. With important clients. Phone tag with my boss, another thing that only I can fix.
Heart still pounds with anxiety.  My head swirls with leftovers I can't be tied to.
I haven't left the house today, just picked out my bag from my car, this morning. to fill in my work journal. The to do list was a full page.  My feelings didn't get that much air time but here they are:
working alone among others,

It's now bedtime, I'm tired and sad, and tears have been threatening all day,
The dishes are done, I have a sacred few minutes to let my loneliness in, and then I have to re organize it for another time.
Things I want:
To sleep thru the night, all the way thru.
For someone to deal with this immigration stuff for me.
For my coworkers to try and help with my un-ending stress connected to my job and all its facets.

To be free, to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and go to Maine whenever I want, because I want to go there now, please.


It's been nine months for my dad today. It took my mom to point this out, the '13' hadn't branded itself on me yet.
Is that the melancholy? The mental prep work for "oh yes, this is where I was last year.." and it works its way in, the bad hospital coffees, the hand-sanitizing, the rural-ness of the town where the hospital he stayed at was.

OK. Good night.


  1. C, while I haven't lost a loved one, I know what it's like when stress and anxiety turn me into an insomniac who, ironically, only wants to sleep. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to also not have your partner w/you right now. I wish I had some solutions or amazing advice or, you know, something to make you feel better, but the best I can offer are well wishes that I hope today quickly becomes but a distant memory in the better days that might be hard to see now, but are there. Because they are. Take care.

  2. your comment made me feel better--thank you J... :)