My parents made us move I believe 17 times when we were younger. I remember actually packing my own things in 2nd grade even. They owned 24 houses and I was there for 17 of those moves. I probably packed my own things about 12 times. Plus my 3 moves in Worcester. 11 moves here. 26 times. I despise moving, not because of what it represents but because I hate unpacking. I hate packing more, but Francine did it all. I hate having to decide what to throw away. I hate having everything that means anything to me not spread out over any other location but my own hallway at this time. Some people have their stuff in their parents house. Some people don’t have as much stuff. I probably have too much but have worked too hard to have my stuff its hard to just chuck it out. Most of it right now is dishes and such. 4 or 5 boxes of clothing. I’ve moved more massive amounts in the past. But, I truly hate it.
Lately I’ve been spinning stories in my own head, figuring things and people out. My own psychology escapes me so I focus on others. Motive and response. Some conclusions are frightening, some I’m proud of, and others are about people that just exist to suckle off the good intentions of others.
I spend a lot of time in my own body, exploring the pains that linger. I’m not taking very much in terms of painkillers. a few tylenol a day even. I’ve been out of the hospital not even three weeks I guess, so I should be proud. My recovery is swifter than with the first open heart. I have a hard time sleeping, relaxing. There are things to be worried about concerned with. I wish I had more to do, had more people to see. Annie is my only regular visitor and that’s been three times since I got out. I sat in the coffee shop for an hour yesterday and the day before with Francine. I sat outside a cafe for 40 minutes on my own today.
It’s really lonely being in a body like this. Nobody knows what to say. I can’t talk to anyone about how I feel. I’m not talking about my body and its pains which are evident. But I truly don’t even know how I feel because I haven’t talked to anyone about any of it. I joke. I jostle, I make fun of myself. But I don’t know what any of this means. I guess the only obvious pain I get is realizing I will never bear my own children. I guess nobody knows that. But I know I cannot and I know it hurts me.
I also know that having all of this time to think really does nothing for my esteem or my happiness. I feel like I am stuck between two pieces of wax paper, able to breathe, but unable to move or see anything too clearly. I guess it must be normal, feeling like that. I day dream about vacation because I know I won’t have to think about my own reality. I’ve been giving myself headaches thinking like this but I don’t know how to escape it.
Get a hobby already, I’m sure you think.
I think throwing things and breaking stuff could be mildly satisfying. Then again I have two gallons of ice cream to eat before we go.
Bleh. Give me a reason already.
May 23, 2006 at 3:15 pm
ok so it may be totally inappropriate that i’m commenting now…but here goes anyway. and it’s all gonna sound really weird considering i don’t really know you. but yeah.
i think you’re amazing. i can’t comprehend what you’re going through and you seem to have such strength. i’m really glad you’re doing ok (or better) even if not great. i know we’ve never met and probably not really talked but i’m glad that your name found it’s way onto my buddy list. i hope that maybe i’ll get to know more about you.
ok. i hope this doesn’t sound super creepy. it’s not meant to be. i just felt like i should finally comment.
May 23, 2006 at 3:24 pm
ah ha
No no. Why would that be creepy? I remember you journal maybe once every four months. I didn’t think you ever read my stuff so it’s cool to know that you do.
Not sure how we ended up on each other’s lists anyways, but that’s cool.
Thanks for the good votes. You should write more often I think…I always think of you being some across country lines world traveler. But I don’t know. I have only a select number of people on my list. I’m too lazy to try and collect new friends anyhow.
Be well. And thanks for finally commenting. I am doing better. Not perfect, but who ever is?
May 23, 2006 at 5:27 pm
i think being in a new place will do you good. I hope things get better for you mood-wise. If not I’ll see what I can do when I get there 😉
One plus is that we’ve given up the idea of the kids and me staying w/ my ‘rents long term. so i’ll be in the city fairly soon.
May 27, 2006 at 4:14 pm
It IS pretty weird being in a body like this, isn’t it?
I’m not on painkillers either! Yay for still being able to think, but not to function!
May 27, 2006 at 6:38 pm
meister burger burger meister, billy burg that is
3 more stops in on the L. So that’s a 15-20 minute jaunt to union square. my place is fancy pants.
the neighborhood is borderline but getting better. we shall see. we shall see.
i’m excited though.
May 27, 2006 at 6:40 pm
i’m obviously retarded
wrong response above for the post after.
thorry.
ha ha