All of my ramblings on one site ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Seems fine, no signs Where do I put all this stuff? Like, it's no ones fault. The vendors are out of stuff. It's not their fault, or mine, or yours. I understand you're upset. I'm still going to absorb it. I may not feel it in the moment, but as soon as I clock out it's going to transfer from my subconscious to my conscious. Only then will I be able to give it attention, but I will also be way too tired to deal with it. So I'll go home, take a nap, ignore all the chores I'm supposed to do. I'll have a drink and justify it because it's only one (one glass, that is). I'll sit and look at my phone. Too tired to relax, too frazzled to focus. After all, it's just *one* glass (but, like, three shots). I'm not even upset. I'm just really, really tired. I'll for sure feel better tomorrow. RIC hasn't gotten my old transcripts yet. I've left them multiple messages with no response. I really hope I'm able to go to school in the fall, but I'm cutting it close. I was really hoping to channel all of this frustration into a sick embroidery project, but nothing came to mind. If I could have it my way, I'd just throw on my sick new bathing suit and float in a river. But New England rivers are too dark for my comfort, and I'd be too chicken to do it anyway. So, I'll just sit in my craft room and drink and watch Pewdiepie. Then I'll go to bed and start over tomorrow. I think the worst thing for me is that I want to help people immediately, and I can't always do that. So, they have to wait. And the sense of urgency and lack of control is what exhausts me. Not in the moment, but when it's all over, and it floods my entire being. A woman I was helping today kept getting calls from a man (her husband or business partner, I'm not sure which) verbally abusing the fuck out of her. She had to go, RIGHT NOW, but the thing I had to help her with was taking way too long. Not because of me, or anyone else, but just because the system has been so slow lately. For whatever reason, the computer wouldn't do the thing I needed it to do. What should have taken a few minutes turned into an hour. The man on the other end was cussing her out and I could feel her frustration, fear, and urgency. But I couldn't do anything. My fear is that I put this woman in danger. I could hear the man because she had him on speaker. I could sense that she felt stuck, because I was making her late, though it wasn't my fault. I think it's in my nature to want to absorb the pain for everyone involved, and, so, here I am. Feeling the weight for both of us, but she's the one who has to deal with whoever was on the other end. I feel really sick about it. I hope she's okay. I thought about asking if she needed help, but she was in such a hurry that I figured it would piss her off more. I should have asked anyway. My cup is empty now, and I'm feeling even less inspired than before I started this. That probably means bed time. I killed almost an entire 750ml bottle in a few short days. I'm afraid to tell my therapist about it, but also scared to not tell her about it. I hate hate hate lying, whether straight forward or by omission. But I also enjoy the secret of it. Man I don't want to be like my dad but where am I supposed to put all this stuff? 10:07 p.m. - 2020-07-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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