February 01, 2013
The last stall
This is exactly how I felt today. I feel like I've been crying for the past three days, bursting into tears at little things and big things and things that were just things while wishing that all these things were not my things. Today I also experienced sever nausea thanks to my new super menstrual cycle. Seriously, first I was on my knees under my desk trying to fight it off, then I sprawled out across my desk to ease that awful need to vomit. Then I rushed as slowly as possible to the bathroom downstairs away from the department bathroom to rid myself of this morning's breakfast because mother nature decided that she wanted my hormones to be all the rage.
It has not been a good day. It seems I can't come home without finding another reason to cry. Everything is honky dory until a little word is said, a tone is changed, and suddenly my feelings are hurt. Then I'm sad and I'm angry and I want to leave but I don't want to leave and I turn into a complete mess for 15 minutes. I had a lovely conversation without myself during this breakdown since Popeguy never seems to answer his phone and a lot of hurt came to the surface. Between moving, TJ, my mom, my friends, bills, no money, a dead computer, debts, no internet, and wondering how to arrange my furniture (and let's not forget cramping and nausea)...I felt completely overwhelmed and I just wanted a bit of comfort. But there's none to be had:
"Sometimes you�re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You�re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you�re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don�t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but �Mom�s� probably wouldn�t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you�ll never be this young again but this is the first time you�ve ever been this old. When you can�t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee�s done. You�re going to breathe in and out. You�re going to be fine in about five minutes."
scullerymaid at 10:55 p.m.