I feel aimless. I feel like I don’t know where I am or what is in my house where.
Judgemental. Careless.
It’s like my brain is not just lagging the fog feels like it is empty.
I feel lost in my own head.
Things keep slipping through the crack.
Loosing a wallet.
Wrong appointment times.
Memory loss of what book I was reading during Christmas.
If someone found my wallet they can have it I just want my license. I can’t renew online because it is almost expired. And I have to go back to CA in person to get a new one. My brain can’t navigate the logistics needed.
Trying to figure out how to move Claire to HI. Finances attached to flights. We need to cut back, I need a job.
Loss of appetite.
My birthday is next week and all I can see it the money we are loosing and that I am not worth it.
I catch myself staring blankly into nothingness. Maybe if I don’t blink some of my thoughts will come back. Maybe if I stay still enough I could feel like myself again.
Heaviness.
My body feels bloated. Like I am trying to move forward but there are restraints creating tension from behind and the dexterity in my feet is replaced with clumsiness.
I can’t remember the question Dr. Halpert wanted me to write about after leaving…
We ended talking about … there was anger, sadness, disgust, vulnerability… I don’t remember the substance.
Maybe there is a piece of me that feels this is karma getting me. Because of all the nasty things I shared out loud in therapy, put out into the world, gave life to, something had to happen to humble me. Remind me that I am clumsy, and flawed and when my heart is ugly I am ugly and bad things happen to ugly people. There is a myth there.
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I cleaned all my uggs today
I practiced patience and haven’t brushed them
I want to
There is a strong urge pull
I feel I am denying myself honoring any impulses.
Smoking. Cutting. Sleeping. Brushing (the uggs).
I guess someone from the outside could say, “that is a little win, good job.”
But all I can think about is wanting to brush the fucking uggs
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I lost my wallet today.
A thought haunting me.
A man yelled at the 57th street station.
I kept moving forward.
I was not curios.
I did not turn.
Did he find my wallet today.
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I think I am so - or I am performing I am so disappointed in myself mad so Ben won’t reprimand me maybe. If I wail on my emotional self enough… I am tired. The performing in my own home. Wanting him to think my days are filled enough. That I am doing enough. That his sacrifice is worth my what ever the fuck I am doing enough. It’s not. I need something that is mine. I thought this business was that but I want to cut my losses. I need this chapter to be over. I need it to leave my life. I want to be done.
cut my fucking losses