It’s calm and quiet here tonight. Krystal and the gals left last night and will be moving into their new digs tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to help with the lifting and carrying and am really looking forward to it. It’s a sign of permenance, a sign they’ll be around for a long time. I like that. I’ve missed them.
The past week has been a strange one. I’ve had a ball having so many people in the house, having Rebecca remind me to take my coffee as I run out the door to work, having Krystal here to make dinner with and chat in the evenings, having little Terra around for cuddling and general merriment and terror.
And now they’re all gone and my house is big again and I’m left to deal with all the stuff that comes with adulthood and lingering depression. My finances are really screwed up and I’ve had to come to some pretty tough decisions lately. All the med bills I’ve had over the past year and a half have put me in a bad place. And let’s not even talk about pre-existing bills and student loans. So I’m going to take the plunge into chapter seven. I’m having a really difficult time dealing with it all, but I do realize that it’s about the only option I have at this point, even at the salary I’m making. There’s something about writing about it here that makes it more real and maybe a little more okay. I’ve known a few people who’ve had to do it, for various reasons and they’re all doing okay now (at least, as far as I know; I don’t talk to some of them any more). Anyway, that’s that. I’m going to start the process in the coming week.
And then there’s the fact that it’s November and I’m thinking even more of Scott and Adrienne and how much my life changed nearly two years ago. I still can’t come to grips with the reality of it all. I still can’t get past the fact that I won’t see Scott again. I keep waiting for it to happen, like he’s just gone on a terribly long trip or something. And I can’t get past all the things that have happened to me–some good, some bad–in the past two years and that I haven’t been able to talk with him about it all. I hate the way my life has turned out and I hate that I carry all this around with me every single day and can’t really talk to anyone about it (unless, of course, I’m paying them to listen to me). The world just isn’t set up to deal with loss or disaster, certainly not the after effects, that’s for sure. We move through situations and then look for the point at which those situations are over. And if we can’t find the ending point, we silently agree that the end to all the badness has come and we carry on, acting as though it didn’t happen.
But I’ve been living in a landslide for almost two years now, feeling and dealing with my own grief, a bag of heavy emotion, unemployment, dependance on others for housing and support, financial ruin, medications, therapy, loneliness, and a hundred things to start over from the very beginning. And if there’s something I haven’t felt or experienced as the result of my loss, then I’d rather not feel it now. It feels as though I’ve had enough.
And here’s how I deal with it all on a night like this. I light a fire. I dim the lights. I listen to music. I try to comfort myself, to warm and care for myself as best I can.
It’s dark out now and I’m sipping stale coffee that’s been sitting in my cup since I started writing this post. I wonder when this fire will die out. I wonder if I should go out in the rain tonight. I wonder if I should give in and go to sleep, even though it’s not yet seven. I wonder when it will be that I feel like myself again. I wonder what that’s like, to feel like myself.