|
It had been a horrible day yesterday but described it felt fine. She had taken a walk. she had cooked cabbage and rice. she had finished her mystery novel.
then the emptiness crept up. She hadn't had much trouble sleeping lately and it was a godsend especially comparing it to those horrible Oakland nights where she would have to walk around the block at 3am just to relieve the anxiety. that was before access to anti-anxiety pills. she called them to anxiety as aspirin to a headache.
the things haunting her head. Instead back there when it was that scene - "f I even thought of it while trying to sleep , I'd have to get up and walk around the block - the nightmare where the ladies have blocked the exit to the ancient car and the back is welded shut - this time, I get haunted by the mgmt video and the naked hope and youth"
"you live in the past. you're frozen in 2004."
"what if you were to die of a heart attack. what would it be? what would you have left? what would you have been remembered for? who would watch you die? you're alone. you've got nobody. you're going to die alone and even animals are too much as you're too nervous for them."
It was a tough week for her last week. She luckily was able to perhaps have shoved it all into this week. the world was falling apart, and she was quite sure she was on the non-rich side of it. She hadn't wanted faded red-head for his self. she didn't even know him. she wanted him for his distraction.
She sat thinking of who to call in her misery. now, she can think of several. in the doom cloud, she could think of no one.
other people have wealth, children, and/or beauty. she was so grateful she didn't have to constantly look in the mirror and assess what she might look like to a new judger at the stage in the temple's decay.
and being alone kind of for always and being the third or fifth wheel - maybe that will be what she does now.
it's vomitous in the extremes, but here we are. she's at that state she always knew would come when she was a kid - when she becomes an old person. and again, the music had stopped. she was still standing. the options become: pout, freeze, retreat, dance, rage... she wasn't sure what the interlude in California was for besides to gain perspective.
"I wonder about retiring. what would that be? I used to think I could be a therapist until my 90's and just set people free and love them... now I just think I'm so fucked up."
who isn't.
"well, yes but when I go to a minister, I want them to believe in God."
It's just so strange to actually get old. From scouring reddit, she realizes that many many people - not just her - have thought this. She still feels stuck at 34. When she was panicking last night trying to go to sleep hoping the pill fragments would kick in - she reviewed her life and wished her brain could just shut down. she dreamt all the time but could only recall tiny snippets throughout the day when she'd have a thought that she'd talked about it with someone - and she realized it was in a dream.
She was supremely lonely - the kind where she didn't really want anyone to intrude - to poke.
the part with rejection that is so hard to stomach is when you scream "of course you're rejecting me. why wouldn't you! I'm ...."
and let's just consider X a dude speaking the parlance of our times. it was not better nor no worse than it had been in January and had been like the best drug to flirt. she has a post-it note of a scene she was supposed to write to leverage her career and make her money.
"Jill writing at desk overlooking trees listening to 'fashionably uninvited'. she gets the beat perfectly and cries."
|
