family
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Things are bad at home. There was a fight…and I’m not sorry but I still feel like shit. I never called names, I felt instead like I was defending myself. But she’s so good at positioning herself as the victim and me some kind of evil abuser. Who knows, maybe I am. And I don’t
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While my mother was out of town – a rare occurrence – I took advantage of my time alone. I miss living alone, and spent it working on the house. I got rid of the dining room table I recently acquired – it’s just too big for the space. I got a small two-seater bistro
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Two weeks complete of grad school. This morning I was nearly in tears, overwhelmed at all of it. Overwhelmed at my home life and the misery of my mother and stressed by increasing demands from a totally online Master of Public Health program. I’m trying to roll with it, enjoy it. I was very good
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I have a crazy week in store. Tomorrow is the last normal day in my sweet downtown apartment. I’m calling the school because I have questions about my classes and I’ll probably do my laundry. Then I sleep before work and on Wednesday morning I meet the movers who will do a quick inventory –
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Sometimes I am just floating, going through the motions, not sad or depressed or manic or anything. I exist in a state of melancholy. I use work to cope. I’m working 9 days this week, and I realize 9 days is more than a week but that’s just what it is. If I didn’t have
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I’ve been visiting my mother at my house daily after work. Subtly stressing how time is rushing by and my move in is fast approaching. We drink a few mimosas. Sometimes I order some breakfast. She looks like hell. So much smoking and drinking. She doesn’t attend to hygiene well, making excuses about being forced
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The AC is down at work. Everyone is sweltering. Except for a few cold vets who still ask for warm blankets at night. I don’t mind the heat. It feels nice to me. I have negative associations with the cold, and it reminds me of sterile hospital environments, the psych ward AC chill, and growing
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Slowly but surely, I’m slogging through my own book one last time for all the errors. I’m truthfully a little irritated my publisher missed so many. I think he ran it through some software or something. The errors are systematic, and my military discharge date is wrong. In short, there will be a second edition.
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Today I get my new living room light fixture installed. My coworker has a lot of experience with stuff like this so he’s doing it for me. Ceila invited me to her bonfire/barbecue tonight. The weather is unusually warm for the pacific northwest. As I type that, the weather just took a turn toward rain
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I have been slacking off on the book – the publisher sends me edited and proofread chunks and I’m supposed to go over it, changing names, making corrections, etc. I have simply been really busy at work, and I need my own laptop to do it. I’m determined to do it this weekend though, while
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 