Hot tea and my moody piano playlist that I took from an influencer. Unoriginally original.
I have a nice life. I do. But for some reason these last few weeks I feel like the rug keeps getting pulled out from beneath me. Like a ticking time bomb, which step will be wrong?
Will I nap too long after work? Will I slam the door and yell at my dog? Be late to my date? Drop my ring down the drain without even realizing? Here I am, getting noise complaints, barely getting off the couch, and stressing about decisions again. Then staying up too late and not being able to function.
The shittiest part is that I know better. I know I need unimaginable amounts of sleep and time to prepare for the week. I know the loud noises outside will drive me to implosion. I know that I do best with workouts and meal prep. I know better than to shower with my ring on. I didn’t think I was. I thought it was on the bedside table. I keep reaching for it. I drove Poppy to the vet to make sure she did not swallow it. And I checked her poop four times now even after they one hundred percent guaranteed it wasn’t there. Xrays be damned.
The other part is that I can’t tell if I’m being hard on myself or holding myself reasonably accountable. Or if I secretly have lupus. This is my suspicion every time I think I have completely lost my grip. “I definitely have it. That’s why I keep sleeping so much. That’s why I made that error. That’s why my body gets sick when the wind blows too hard. Its lupus.” Sometimes I actually want it to be true so I can have something to blame. But its also not exactly what I want to hear.
Today is the first time I’ve actually cried really hard about something since leaving my ex in 2019. I’ve been sad, but I haven’t felt the gut wrench. The salty tears, soft on my face even though the sadness feels like little daggers. One of the biggest things I’ve learned since leaving him is that nobody is, “above the rules.” Including myself, no one is so superior that they get out of things in life. Nothing is safe. I just wish my ring wasn’t one the of those things caught in the crossfire. I wish it was bulletproof.
Currently spinning- Golborne Road by Nick Laird-Clowes