Just took me 45min to write maybe 6 sentences to my boyfriend. Without my meds it felt like I was going to throw up and have my stomach dissolve all at the same time, not to mention cry too. Horrid. Terrible time of year, terrible state of mind, terrible everything and having blanked out as much as I could of our last night together it just brought it all back up in a choke of misery in my throat. Been trying to take deep breaths so the children don’t wonder why I sound like a dying gasping fish with a hook through its gills.
Pathetic, it wasn’t even a huge emotional email, I just had to find out what was happening with Christmas. It’s a heightened emotional time of year (last year I almost died, so this year is shaping up to be pretty OK all things considered), it involves children, it involves moving pieces and it involves trying to be cheerful and find the light. if I can help it the hospital won’t be my Happy New Year this year.
Though, depending on if he’s been drinking or tired or stressed or hot or pressured when he reads my email I can expect anything from a nice email back or a tirade, I just don’t know, which means even if he writes back I may just hit delete, which then means I have no idea what happens with Christmas but is Christmas really dependent on my boyfriend, no, except that our lives are 4 years in, so yes. Really, it was a very measured email, it did take 45min, trying not to be emotional and very matter of fact based on just trying to be logical.
It’s Dec 19 tomorrow and I have done nothing, no decor, no happy joy joy, just been in my mental cave. There is a tree in his apartment but I don’t know whether to decorate it, leave it, return it… last we spoke there was not much that was wanted around me and last I want to do is make the place all happy and christmas and then feel like a fool if he comes back and pretty much ignores everything. In general I feel like the unwanted furniture, in between the TV and the laptop. If I was a. told I was a fucking bitch b. caused nothing but unhappiness c. got into another fight 3 days before Christmas, no matter how strong I am, it won’t end well for me.
OMG, enough blah blah blah, whatever happens will happen, up, down around, sick, dead, sad, grinched, depressed.
I just cried at The Flash, wow, all kinds of too many fucked up.