as long as I can dream it's hard to slow this swinger down in Songs

I’ve a new physical symptom to my mental health! Stress puking. I’ve stress puked twice now, and I’m hoping they are flukes but I guess we’ll have to wait and see. I’m shocked that I’m finding this weakness, sleepiness, malaise, depression so surprising. I’ve spent the past weeks frustrated that I’m Not Getting Over This Depression. I don’t know what I’m expecting. I’ve been itching for months to get started on my life and it’s just not gonna happen. I guess I have the rest of my life to get started on my life and for now I’m just supposed to learn how to be depressed and stay in bed and work as a house cleaner and budget and eat infrequently and stress puke sometimes, and frequently go to memorial events. The last time I stress puked was the morning after a Dave Memorial where we screened his Super 8 film reels. He shot about 10 or 8 reels, and I’m the only one who had an entire reel of just me, solo. Me in the snow, me directed, me candid, me and Dave undressing, smoking cigarettes, shots of the city, shots of the bedroom. People at the event were yowling as they sobbed. I was giving them hugs. I was flipping everyone off. I was laughing and flipping everyone off and yelling, “Ha ha, fuck you!” I was doing it all day at strangers too. Strangers and friends, everything could fuck off that day. I got drunk by 11 am that day and it probably served me well.

This entire community is sinking into a deep alcoholism to deal with this death. It’s doing a number on my stomach, or maybe it’s gluten. I’m scared I have a gluten intolerance. I hate it when people don’t eat gluten. I’m one of those assholes! But realistically, wine and ciders don’t make me a queasy as beers do. Maybe I’m just drinking too much. I am, I’m drinking too much. I don’t really care, I’m not going to be able to do much for a while, so I’m going to do this. Drink, be with my friends who are fucked up and depressed, be fucked up and depressed with them, sleep all the time. Eating weed gummies. Want to sleep all the time. I’m maintaining by not napping all the time, trying to keep up with personal projects, reading, eating, walking, seeing Jess, trying to see other people, going to shows, eating out, seeing my parents, brushing my hair, shaving. Keeping up with the things. I was going to look for a therapist within my health network but might just leave that for tomorrow. I still need to do some stretches and cardio before a shower before I go drinking with Jacob, who has been the biggest mess and I don’t know how I help because frankly I don’t know how to. But he hit me up and who would I be to say no.

Jess and I had a really blissful afternoon and evening on Saturday. I came by to get some edibles she had bought for me and we ended up getting high, I almost fell asleep but mostly just cried a little while she held me. We listened to some reggae and joked around, went and got food together, some drinks, walked around, built a fire, slept together. I slept ok, every so often we’d move to cuddle and entwine in a new way and I’d wake up feeling a small, intensely pleasurable devastation. How nice, how nice it is. We talk about “us” a lot, I think we’re endlessly fascinated that this is something that’s happening. I’m trying to see other people, I’m trying to renegotiate what kind of romantic, sexual, and intimate relationships I want in my life. I’m trying to take this thing with Jess slow.

The next morning I had my second stress puke. I had a long day at work, facing a team that I haven’t worked with in over a month, working with a designer that I’ve worked with recently and who I’m hoping will be a ticket to new job prospects. I was a wreck, for some reason, shaking and weak. Maybe it was the drinks, or the lovesickness, or the lack of exercise I’ve been getting, or the early morning stress puke. Regardless, the day went. I do need regular baths and comforts, so I went to my parents’ for a bath and food and to do laundry. It’s good. Everything is fine. Whatever. I have a new plan it is to pet and coo this depression until it dies, so that it won’t come back with a vengeance.