It feels like writing this entry is admitting its the end of my holiday. Despite typing this at home, where I’ve been for over 24 hours now. Reality sucks
Friday morning my sister and I snuck off to the antique market on the highway to pick up the purse mom had asked for, which I’d found. She ended up finding a gorgeous stained glass lamp while perusing the market, and that seemed to cover our tracks for why we had to head out that morning.
I’d told them I wanted to be on the road by nine. The market didn’t open until then, but I fully expected people to be ready when we got back with the car.
Of course I should have known better.
I think we finally got on the road by 1030, had to stop to fill the car, and then I also wanted to stop to grab a breakfast sandwich and a coffee, since I found myself ravenous almost as soon as we got in the car. We finally got to my sister’s place at like, 1:30. On the drive I had this terrible feeling I’d forgotten my wallet - full stomach dropping feeling - so first thing I did was check my bag for my wallet, and thankfully it was right where it was supposed to be.
It was crap like this, constantly worming its way into my presence, taking me out of the moment, that ruined my mood this holiday. Even when I got into M’s truck after my flight, I didn’t feel relief that I was home, pleasure that we were together again. I felt anxiety because I was one step closer to going back to work. I’m really trying to not let it eat at me, but my will is failing.
After talking to Bird Guy I’d resolved to see Tina again. So I’d made that call, and got an appointment for the 20th. Except as we were sitting in the driveway I got a voicemail, from the clinic telling me that I was discharged from Tina’s care, and I needed a doctor’s referral to see her again.
So now M and I are in the same boat. Trying to access mental health services and getting shut down, for him, every step of the way.
We dropped off the dogs at my sister’s house, and headed over to my cousins. He’s done beautiful work on his house, and he remains the most interesting of our cousins, someone I want to know better.
After leaving my cousins we were all starving, it was almost 4pm and we’d only had breakfast. We stopped at a restaurant my sister liked when she was writing her dissertation. It had a weird cafe vibe but the food was excellent. We even stopped to get gourmet donuts for later. After we dropped my aunt off at her place and headed to my sister’s, where we all sat playing with our phones for like, an hour. I think we were all tired, and just needed to tap out of the day for a bit. I realized I still hadn’t checked into my flight, but doing it online kept giving me an error, saying I had to talk to the people at check-in.
Mom, my sister, my nibling and I played a round of tile rummy before we headed back to my aunt’s for the night, where we watched stuffy old british dramas at a ridiculous volume. I was texting with Bird Guy, who was high and listening to music, so I decided that sounded like the perfect thing to do. I snuck outside to vape a bit, said goodnight, turned out the lights, put my headphones in and gapped out as my body buzzed to the music.
My alarm went off at 5:15.
We were out the door by 5:55.
Good thing too, because once I got to check in, I was flagged for the extra-heavy-duty-security check. Scanned my bags, did a full body scan, a full pat down, checked to make sure my electronics turned on AND went through every single one of my bags. It would have been humiliating if I could have mustered the energy to care. It just felt like one more insult on a difficult week leading into another difficult week.
I treated myself to an almond croissant for breakfast in an effort to make myself feel better. It was delicious.
The flight home was mostly empty, so I had no one in the seat beside me. Which was good because I spent a bunch of the flight on the verge of tears. Also fighting intrusive thoughts about being okay with the plane crashing. The flight was otherwise featureless, and I got off the plane and down to the pick up area as fast as I could. I fought my mood all the way home, but being back in the house with M, the sweet ways he was trying to get me to feel better, it was enough of a distraction, the last 24+ hours have been pretty good, minus the interjection of my brain trying to ruin everything. The banging was spectacular as always.
It is really bothering me how the intrusive thoughts and the persistent lack of will to live has reared its head again. I honestly don’t know what to do. I was reminded this week, in my overthinking, that originally I was diagnosed with an “Adjustment disorder”. And this summer has been me not adjusting to yet another change the military has thrown at me. I’m starting to wonder what a med release would do for me…
Tomorrow my priority is getting that doctor’s referral.
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