I have been trying to force myself to be in a decent mood but I am failing. I can’t lobotomize myself with positive thinking. I think I have to properly grieve the loss of my old structures. That sounds dramatic, I am only referring to my living situation. I am so displaced in this house it hurts. My stuff is in a storage locker and with Matt home, I have nowhere to be. There are two spaces for their family now and they take it all up. I never even know which couch I’ll be sleeping on. I’m a guy who needs structure. I’m living out of three suitcases and even those keep getting moved around on me because that is too much in the way for them. I want to be grateful, I suppose I will have to process the loss of my old way of life first. It’s just a struggle to cope with being constantly surrounded 100% of the time. We had separate spaces just a couple of weeks ago.
It’s like nobody rests in this house. I don’t get to rest in this house. I can’t get any sleep between Matt being loud into ungodly hours of the night and their kids waking up shortly after that. If I even come close to being alone in a room and come close to being able to nap they will flood into that time & space and be as loud as possible. It’s been thirteen days of this. My mind is trying to spin a story that they’ve all conspired to make me as miserable as possible. I know that they didn’t, I’m just so tired it hurts. Literally, I’m tired from dawn to dusk. I’m permanently irritable. It’s a huge struggle to sleep in this house. It’s a huge struggle to cook in this house. It’s a huge struggle to have even a moment to myself in this house. It’s a small one-bathroom house. We’re forbidden from visiting other households right now so we’re all just trapped here. I’m sure they’re feeling it too. My sister and her husband keep getting short with each other.
Last year I broke out into shingles. That was a result of becoming too emotionally stressed. Thanks Karamjeet you big bloated bitch from hell. If I let stress get this heavy and go on too long it will happen again. I can feel the phantom pains already. I would exercise to help manage my mood but there is no space for that. There is no time for that. It was better the old way for everyone. Except their kid, maybe. I feel selfish and ungrateful. I feel selfish because I want Matt to go back to work because that will “fix” almost everything for me. In this house I mean. He works out of town for 3 weeks at a time. He’s been home for two weeks which is unnatural and he doesn’t know when he returns because of this code red. You can’t carpool. I feel ungrateful because I was almost homeless just a few weeks ago. That shell shock is wearing off and now I need to process those dense energies.
I am so radically distracted, I can’t focus to get anything done. I feel overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks. Keeping myself distracted is me coping. There is nowhere to go and nowhere to be and nothing to do but scream at the World Wide Web during these lockdowns. The news is fake wake up! We are demoralized beyond repair if you’re waiting for the news to confirm a fact. What I need to do is somehow get some structure in this chaos. I honestly feel like I could just snap… but I won’t. Things could be worse. This is only temporary. If it wasn’t for this free trial of communist law, they would at least go to Anola once or twice a week. This isn’t forever Tom you big bloated bitch from CHAZ. Ok, I’ll try and be grateful today. Everyone here has their health and there is luck, love and lollipops… fuck this casedemic and the code red bone dry. Yeah, it’s easier to be mad at the world lol.