sick from the shoulders up

I’m either going crazy, or my time of death is near. Or it would be if fate were smidgen kinder than it has been. So far fate has kept me alive, but not much more than that. I’ve been thinking a lot about death these days. I just see no future for myself. And it could be for a number of reasons- perhaps this is a side effect from the drugs. My little brother has reported strong depression after his adderall wears off. It could be over work. The last couple weeks I’ve been non-stop between animaid and work and I have not kept up my promise to start leaving work at 5 instead of 7. Of course, that too could be a contributor of the internal agony- I dislike myself for still being here with Howard my boss. I feel like a sell-out and a failure. first because I couldn’t find work in the time allotted to me during that month of time I was on ‘two weeks notice’. The one perfect job for me- I don’t know. It’s gone. I thought I had it. I could smell it and yet they over looked me. Was that my fault? Did I not do something I should have? I thought I did everything right and somehow I failed. That great miracle I thought would be my future and my happiness, my employment dream come true at last… gone. And I don’t have anyone to blame but me. So I don’t like myself. I failed again and I don’t know now where I shold go or what dreams I have. I agreed to stay here for the *money*. How pathetic. I never cared about money really before. I thought if I worked hard and did my due diligence that I would be rewarded. But I’m still here. And the only way I earn this “bonus” is by again enslaving myself to this stupid phone working for a commission. I hate commissions. I don’t want to strap myself to the grace of others and the luck of the draw. Luck and fate are not my friends and I obviously don’t have the skills to get what I want.

I see a future of insufferable mediocrity as clear as day. A rental home with a man I settled for. Working as a career assistant struggling from paycheck to paycheck always being frugal and worried and hungry. I can’t decorate so my house will be full of cheap make-shift decorations I invented. My children will be like me- disappointed with life even though I see that strong McDonald fire in them. Luck won’t favor them either. And I won’t have anything to give them because I was a failure too. And I won’t be able to give them snacks when they come home from school or spend way too much money on fabric to sew them what they want to be for Halloween. And everyday my husband and I will worry about retirement and to top it off, I’ll never go to Japan. It’ll never be convenient enough. I’ll never have the time. and in time, I won’t think about it anymore and that dream will die too. It’ll just be a part of reality like everything else- just another thing out of my reach.

So maybe you can grasp now why death seems so appealing right now. Don’t worry- I’m not shopping for rope or scopeing out where I can get guns or pills or eyeing knives. Being LDS, I know that even if I did die, life would still ‘go on’ for me and I’d have to still face my mistakes in life.

Of course this might ALL stem from being sick. My joints ache, my glands are swollen and bruised. My throat feels like it’s split vertically from the inside so it hurts to swallow. My head aches and my fingers are stiff. The new guys in my office are always so close to me and my desk and they are loud and try to talk to me. They brought in a fan today and that constant drone makes it hard to think. And it makes it cold. On top of which, one of the idiots in my office has expressed an interest in me when everyone else is gone. This is not the time to be trying to get on my good side guy. I’m feeling worn and sick and confussed. You’re flirting with me will only make me resent you.

That is one this I should write about. When girls feel sick- no matter how much she might like you, it’s not a good time to make a move. It might be a good time to step in and take care of her- one don’t step one toe over the line of asking for anything in return. That might mean unintentionally asking her to look cute or clean her house when you want to come to take care of her. Or maybe that’s just me. When I feel sick I don’t appreciate a kindness that requires me to get out of bed and be a good hostess. I just want to be sick and crumple up on the couch in my pjs with my hair nasty and sweaty. Having the stress of someone I want to impress in the room is NOT helpful.

Chris came over to help me once when I was so sick it was really more of an episode. When I tried to pass out so the pain would subside in unconsciousness, he knelt beside the couch and watched me try to sleep. As if I could do it with someone studying me in my total misery. If I had had any energy at that moment, I might have struck out and slugged him in the face. Instead I asked him to go away. He just retreated to the other couch and waited until I woke up.

A few weeks ago steve Anderson came over when I had a brief cold after my failed Charity to Japan event that got rained out. He brought me homemade bread. Luckily, I was already dressed in pjs and moderately presentable so I allowed him inside with the promise that once he delivered it, he’d go away and let me sleep. Even though I don’t like wheat bread or honey, I didn’t say anything and let him be kind. He stayed and talked to me while I ate. Not exactly our agreement but whatever. It was okay. But I think my feeling still stands. If you’re going to take care of someone, think about their needs, don’t only serve what you want to give. It’s nice, but… yeah.

Ow. Taking Tylonol. Why does everything have to hurt all at once?