(no subject)

A large part of me feels exhausted and overwhelmed and like there's a tiny person inside my sinuses hammering on the inside of my head trying to get out. And I feel like an ass for being in that space, I'm not an effective ally and other people live entire lives of exhaustion and overwhelmedness and probably even tiny angry sinus men. 

We got our first imperfect delivery box, and it came with a friend, a second box of produce that imperfect couldn't take back for safety reasons and we couldn't really make adequate use, so I got to deliver it to someone else.   Seeing a person in person who isn't a partner or spark or the dog walker was weird and strangely moving.  

I never want to talk about what I'm reading or cooking because I want to save those for the month-summaries but I did do things today other than contemplate home self-trepanning.  But there are days when I think I do little other than clean, cook and read.

I bit the corner of my mouth badly last night, and just keep biting it. It feels like a metaphor for something, but I don't know what it would be. 

Nonsense killed her rabbit friend this morning.   It was only a matter of time, one day she was going to catch up with it and apparently the shock of a large animal burying its nose in bunbun was enough to cause bunbun to die.  The dog didn't do anything violent, and was trying to nibble-groom the rabbit's fur, much like she does to the cats.  She was, of course, deeply traumatized by Light shouting her away from the rabbit and/or the rabbit's death and I feel really bad for her, probably much worse than she herself feels.  (I'm apparently still relatively cold-hearted about prey animals, I think my childhood cat broke me of that many many years ago)

Though I suspect I might be touchier about birds, though we're almost certainly never going to have an outdoor cat and it's not like Nonsense has ever gotten close to touching the mourning doves despite her enthusiasm.  But, I believe we have a boy and girl brown headed cowbird at our feeder now, and I'm stupidly excited about having possibly identified them.  

My back tattoo is all raised and itchy again and I have no idea why, but I'm just going to take some extra benadryl and try not to think about it too much and hope ambien wins out over histamines eventually.

"bitter, querulous, unkind"

It's a spinning out day, which is unfortunate but probably to be expected. 

I can't change anything, or I don't think I can change anything, I suspect trying to get more than I'm given will just end up in being given less.   It's hard to figure out what to do, but doing nothing feels worse and worse.  

I don't want to bother Delight, the phrase "they've got a lot going on" doesn't even begin to cover it. But I've also got that awful mental tic of thinking if I deserved more, I'd be getting more, so obviously I'm getting what I deserve and if it's not enough, that's my problem and I should have been/should be better.  Which I guess puts undue burden on other people, but that's hard to think about too because at least 40% of the time, I suspect my existence in the world puts undue burden on other people.   (oddly enough, despite these being some pretty lingering feels, I am finally occasionally get fiesty and ask people to shut up about alcohol, which also feels like a burden, especially when I'm hoping people remember it about me cause why would they?)  (perceived burdensomeness is considered a key factor in someone's decision to kill themselves and I wonder what it's like not to perceive burdensomeness, like are there people who just assume they are a net positive?)

(I announced my sobriety in a slack channel and once again, someone chimed in with the "I'm sober too because I'm on medication" and I should probably appreciate the solidarity, but most of me just wants to say things like "the difference between us was I was on those medications too and it didn't stop me" but I just let it pass on by.  There's only so much oomph to go around and on the list of things I want to spend it on, explaining why that either isn't or doesn't feel like a statement of solidarity wasn't where I wanted to spend it.)

I don't feel entitled to my feelings, I know all the arguments, I use them against myself often enough.  I don't have a job, I don't have a kid, I don't have anything to be doing, this should be a blissful indulgent time full of books and computer games and conquering all sorts of things that scare me, like yeasted bread or freehand embroidery, or figuring out how to use all my white privilege and thoughts about codes of conduct in service of something that makes the world better.

But mostly I feel like I do dishes and stare vacantly at things, trying not to cry. I'm stuck in one of those states where I can only see the holes in things, the reasons to say no, and none of the reasons to say yes.  

I get it, maybe.  Spark is someone else's kid, not mine.  I don't have a kid of my own, I'm not going to have a kid of my own, even pre-COVID seeing Spark was a matter of negotiation, meditated by her parents, and it will continue to be so.  But I've got all these Big Feelings and nowhere to put them.  

I can feel the anxiety creeping in weird ways, impinging on my ability to just say the things without giving fucks, here, on slack, in chat.  I've got that looking over my shoulder feeling, not like something's following me, but that I missed some vital clue I've already passed. I feel like I'm erasing myself, but not in some grand dramatic gesture, just...blurring or eroding, I guess.  My feels are very big, my scope is very small.