I am feeling stretched and strung out.
Having a day or two a week to take “off” (aka do DIFFERENT work instead of my usual demanding job) was certainly a relief from the 40 odd days straight, but that relief was not quite the rest and recovery I need- and all it did was put a few more fumes in the tank.
Now I am just like....over it. All of it. My generosity has run dry. My spare resources- time, energy, money- which are usually abundant, are locked down or depleted. Closed for business. The last few weeks have been marked by me more or less telling every begging Jimmy John to fuck off and call someone else.
This includes both of my brothers. One more week for me and I intend to take an extended vacation to the beach in the UP, but my brother would rather I jump straight into his mountain of work orders- which isn’t happening. Do it yourself, or tell them to call someone else, but don’t call me.
I crave comfort right now. A lot. A single gentle touch with some/any degree of caring or affection would break half a decade at this point of experiencing nothing but coldness and abuse from every physical direction in life.
When I was sitting and doing homework as a kid, or something like that, my dad would come up behind me and slap me on the back and rub my shoulder a bit, expressing a slight interest in what I was doing but mostly an interest in a little connection. I wasn’t into it, as I wasn’t really into being touched in general- but the desire to express love and affection came through in the gesture, and ultimately I appreciated it. I think about that a lot.
Yesterday I was trying to cut old large cast iron piping from the 1800s with a chain break, and it kept just crushing on me instead of snapping clean- forcing me to keep extending the area I would ultimately have to replace. The bottom would crush and disintegrate, and the top would remain intact- forcing me to take the chain break off and whack the top part with a big hammer until it shattered, and the piece would separate.
The last piece I did that with bounced off something on the wall on the way down and CLOBBERED me with jagged broken knives of cast iron with a LOT of weight behind it. It sliced a hole in my shorts and carved a huge red line down my upper thigh before doing the same to the top of my leg and foot.
Good thing I restocked my first aid kit.
I am quite tired of everything hurting me though. At all times, for years on end, without any pause or counter balancing comfort.
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