It's safe to say that the last few days have been difficult for me. Three of the worst days I've had since the divorce, for sure. Work has been hard, physically and mentally. My family is...not exactly what I'd like it to be. A friend, upon whose presence I've come to rely, has been conspicuously absent. And Saturday was what could have been a nice day, that turned into a multiple-hour argument, punctuated with tears, shouting, intense silence, two attempts to leave abruptly, and, perhaps the worst of it, a sense of inevitability. A door closing.
I ache all over. Literally, my body aches, from moving lib. shelves and ref. books on Friday. And from Saturday, too. And the headache I've had since Saturday morning, which has waxed and waned. Today it's like a sharp fork, jabbing at the back of my eyeball from the inside of my skull and gripping my neck so I can't move my head. I feel like death.
What do you do when everything's falling apart? I knew that I had people I could call, and places I could go, but I didn't want to share it with anyone but the three people who weren't there--one because he caused it (or was, at least, the other guilty party), one because she has her own stuff going on right now and had every reason not to be there, and one because...well, he certainly has ample reason to be elsewhere, too. So I was by myself, somewhat deliberately and somewhat because this is the way I've managed to arrange my life. And, honestly, I get along fine by myself.
But it was a long, overly-quiet day yesterday. Too much time to think. That's never good for someone like me.
Enough wallowing. Time to suck it up, drink some tea, take a few Excedrin Migraine, and get it together.
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