Sometimes you work Saturday. Sometimes you don’t.
I’m not gonna cry and whine about why my Soul refuses to acknowledge me and our feelings. He does. I do. We both know it. It’s not going to change anything, since he won’t give it creedence.
I am however, going to say today has been ok. I asked H to get me a bottle of moscato, to have with dinner. He either will or won’t. It’s up to him. But I figure if he thinks he will get sex out of it, then he will. I’m not overly concerned.
I am about to stop eating altogether. I don’t crave anything anymore, which is likely due to one or more of my medications. And since I can’t go without those, I just won’t eat. No biggie. I have my vitamins, and extra folic acid – still trying to hold on to my hair.
Good news, I’m not blonde anymore. I actually like my black hair. Growing it long, for as long as I can stand it, anyway. Summer heat, makes it feel yucky. No, I’m not out in it very often. But I do have more freckles on my arms and shoulders.
Spent a nice few days in San Antonio, lovely hotel, champagne, strawberries, all that good stuff. And managed to sleep quite well. Which makes me think I shouldn’t be here, at least not for my mental health. The night I got home, the nightmares started again.
Started watching OITNB. Kinda feel like I’m missing out, not being in prison, or hospital. Like I don’t belong to a community. My few friends and I rarely see each other. I considered trying to start a walking club. But realized the only people who would get involved were the same ones who shun me in public.
Then I considered a class…but the only one that stuck out was forklift operation. I mean…hey, I can’t be around people, but I can drive a forklift! At least it’s a skill.
I’m just floating in a mass of possibilities, and I keep talking myself out of them. Perhaps I will try yoga at home….but that still doesn’t solve my social acceptance issues.
It’s whatever. So I asked for a bottle of wine…..