no pics. no good feelings. feeling really bad. just got to get this down. eyes leaking. overwhelmed constantly. have been for weeks.
i don't know if faith is what i have anymore. seems to be a self-indulgent sort of apathy. i am filled with myself, and it is a very sour filling.
i was working today, making mistakes, just trying to get through the calls. trying to. so much on my mind, on my heart. yesterday was good, but my stats were awful. was trying to bring it up to speed. got a long text from Syd, who actually was trying to get the apartment cleaned out, but 11:59pm fashion as i'd figured. landlord had come, lowlevel bullying her, trying to intimidate her, saying she had to be out by midnight, that there'd be a cleaning fee, blah blah. i'm on a call reading this. i shouldn't have been, but it's been on the perimeter of my reality every day. every day. and i rush out of the call and i jump off the computer. not even 2 hours in. and i go around the corner and the landlord is not there and the apartment is a mess. and it all lands. eyes still leaking. it's all fucked up. everything. timing. life. everything.
i can't do all this.
i can't take care of my parents and get rest and do the things that need to be done in the house and work undisturbed and worry about Syd. i can't do all that. i try. i am not looking for a reward. it was nice to actually make payment arrangements on back bills. but i don't have it in me. i am worried sick about Syd, but what can i do? the worry is human, so what it the monumental effort to have acceptance of her right to do what she chooses? they can't both be human. my parents need a lot. both of them, though they don't both know it. they both want the help that they want. they both need the help that they don't necessarily want to acknowledge they need. i cook, i tidy, i take trash out, i get newspapers and mail, i take cans to the curb. i've stopped trying to arrange driving support for my dad, but everytime he leaves and comes back i worry he's hit something. my mom is doing better on her c-pap, but she's so unfocused still. she's trying to show a resilient face, and i don't discourage it. she worries about me. i probably need worrying about.
i am on, all the time now. i wake to do things. i sleep sporadically. i take calls and i try to remember things that are black holes in my brain. procedures on how to handle certain crises. i mess up a lot. i'm slow. i try for accuracy rather than speed and i fail at both. this is how i am feeling right about now.
a siren just went past my parent's house. my heart jumps, fearing some new fuckery.
i'm tired. inside my brain. i've not had any intimacy in months. i'm not writing. i'm not working on selling books. i'm not doing anything except serving people. and i'm weary, in the inside of my brain.
i don't know what i'm going to do.
i'm in the attic. i should never have read the text. but the text didn't make me feel like i just wanted to sleep and not get on the phones at all.
something is wrong with me.
pretty sure something is fucked up.
but i don't know what i'm going to do right now. sent a resignation letter. they would have fired me. job abandonment. fired people for it myself. pre-emptive. now i have to start the search again.
i wish i could stop feeling everything. went to my uncle's house, though. he's got a wine rack, didn't even know he drank. looked at a bottle, cinnamon hot wine. didn't think about drinking. programming is strong. but i'm thinking about checking out. wonder why i'm wired so badly?
i'm not going to check out. i'm just going to think.
i don't believe i'm grateful right now. i wish i were, but i don't feel grateful at the moment.
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