Saturday, September 26, 2015
This cat has the face I think I might have right now, but she's actually doing things more or less the right way to get the results she wants.
I...am not this cat.
I suppose that's why I'm online and on the blog right now.
I need a space, I guess? I need the mysterious someones out there to hear me, because the less mysterious someones...well, right now's not the time to rely on them.
I am moving. My mom is moving, and my grandma is moving. The mom and grandma will be moving 6 or 7 hours north to Minneapolis. I will be returning to the town I lived in from 10-19. My cat will be meeting this gremlin and several others, and I will be attempting to make life with my love and a few friends work.
By now (September 26th with October 1st looming) I should have had everything all set to go. I shouldn't be up now worried.
For part of the time, I was crazy resisting change, and maybe denying it. It's childish and stupid.
For another part of the time, I was trying to focus on my love's birthday and make him feel like the most special person on earth. That worked and I think it was important.
After that, when stuff got hard, I more messed up.
I managed to have the exact opposite effect on the people I love than I wanted. I seem uniquely able to go in with the most loving of intentions, and in the end, have people on the verge of hatred. I accomplish this through second-guessing, indecisiveness, emotional asshattery, and a healthy dose of scatter-brainedness.
I feel like moving, especially since it was what seemed like such short notice (I knew on Labor Day, in retrospect) is stressful.
I feel like, though I've lived away from my family before, very far far away...I feel a bit afraid to see them go. I feel like it's an amazing chance and change for them, so I'm glad they're going, but I also feel like I have great potential for turning everything into a nightmare (which trust me, I've been doing) and thereby screwing up the good things I do have til I don't have those things anymore.
I thought it wouldn't take me as long to get boxed up and junk all the stuff I didn't need, but I still have to finish off the tail end of that tomorrow.
I thought I was splitting my time between my family who needed my help and my love who really, really needed my help, in a way that would take care of them and still allow me to sleep and write and even job hunt.
I felt crazy overwhelmed and stressed, but there's no logical reason for it, I'm told. It shouldn't be that bad. I'm not moving that far and I don't have that much stuff, and why has it taken so long?
When I'm there, boxing and junking, I'm feeling like I'm doing great. I'm getting organized, trimming the fat, knowing what it all is and where it goes.
But why aren't I done? Why is it I'm letting people down left and right?
Why wasn't I where I should have been when I should have been there?
Where's all my sleep going? (here, right now...)
Why can't I seem to control my emotions?
Why am I so damn worried about my cat, who just got fixed, and her introduction to the house?
Why am I so damn worried about things not working?
Why am I so damn worried about being hated?
Why do I feel like I've really, really failed my family and my love?
I wanted to be able to take my time, sort through things, and do it in a relaxed manner, then help my mom with the things she needed.
I wanted not to be gone all the time, so I could support my love through hard times, and not leave him feeling alone, no help, no support.
I wanted to get sleep and still take care of myself.
None of that has happened, I've damaged relationships, I've not been able to keep up with the things I needed to for Chicagoist, and instead of being sure of my decisions, things have eroded by the power of me enough that I'm not sure I'm not going to polar opposite of the direction I should be going.
I feel like a colossal screw-up.
I feel stressed out, and simultaneously guilty that I do feel stressed out, because everyone else around me has *more* than I do. More stuff to move, more sad, more stress, more issues to work out.
I wish for support, hugs, time with friends, but I feel guilty about that too since I've so severely seemed like a self-centered ass to anyone who needed me or mattered.
I wanted to move forward into the next phase of my life gracefully. Put together, calm, happy...excited to add to people's lives, help other people be free to do the things that will make them freer, less financially burdened, and happier...
but it's not like that.
Instead, I'm trying to put everything back together and keep it together for the next four days knowing it could all fall to pieces at any moment.
I...will risk seeming selfish saying this, but I want to, when this is over, either lock myself in a room for a day and just...never come out. sleep and watch tv and eat cookies and let the world continue without me...
Or I want to go somewhere. Alone. For a night. Just...me, a stupid cable tv, maybe an indoor pool, some stupid, awful junk food, and nowhere to go the next day. Continental breakfast. I don't even care if it's in Gurnee or something. i'm not looking for a superb destination. I just...I want to clear out my head, process, figure out how to undo the damage, if there's a way, and come back stronger.
I don't know. There's no conclusion to this. I should just go to bed, because there are 5 hours before I start another day in this hellish September and hope to get through it without dropping more balls.
At least I've rigged a bootie for the dog I'm dogwatching. That's something.