Editing, Crazy Therapist, and other things

Editing, crazy therapist, and other things

I woke up early enough to catch the bus to go to Starbucks. I really wanted to get some editing done and I accomplished a lot but still am not finished. I have about 20 pages left, which I hope to do this afternoon. I don’t know how I am going to do it on my bed versus a table but we’ll see. I didn’t have a red pen to make notes or mark ups. I felt sad at this.

I was talking to my friend in South Africa via Twitter. I told him I was fearful of what is to come of homosexuals and transgender peoples once Trump takes office. As I fall into this category, it’s making me want to stay in the closet, so to speak. My friend offered me refuge to South Africa so I texted my therapist this. All of a sudden she flips out and now I have a session tomorrow. I tried to get out of it, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. WTF. It’s not like me moving to South Africa is going to happen. She is nuts. I think she couldn’t wait till Tuesday to talk to me. I didn’t ask for this appointment, she just texted me after the South Africa text.

I am thinking about my father today. A friend in the UK tweeted about how her mother has bedsores from her “care” in the nursing home. That brought about the memories of my father in his last month of life. I am grateful that he never got bedsores. I still think of the day he died and how earnestly I stared at him after I gave him medication before he died. I totally despised him, even in death. I just couldn’t stand looking at him and how he still had control over us, even while he died. He leaves a hole in me but it’s small. I can’t believe I miss the bastard. I never thought how I was going to react after his death. I still haven’t “mourned” for him. There are times when the grief hits me like a ton of bricks and it’s hard to breath. Other times it’s a pang and I just want to cry but I hold back. I feel that if I cry, I will be releasing a power he held over me and I don’t want to do that, yet.

I am tired. Last night I had to turn the heat down because it got really hot in the house with all the people we had over. I don’t think my mother turned it back up because I am wicked cold. It’s in the low 50s today. Of course, I still have the AC in my window so that isn’t helping matters. I really need to clear a path to get to the AC so it can be removed. I would take it out but I am afraid that I will hurt my back in the process. There is nothing heavy in front of the window, just things need to be moved out of the way. Maybe I will do it later tonight, if I get the energy and motivation.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Editing, Crazy Therapist, and other things

  1. manyofus1980 says:

    I’m sorry the grief is so hard to deal with sometimes. With my mom and dad both ill, I am worrying about what if something happens to either of them. I cant imagine being without them, even though our relationship hasn’t always been the best or closest. xxx

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