I let it happen again.
I thought that by covering myself with my blanket and washing my face repeatedly, I could just wish my obnoxious crying away. But I woke up again with sore and nasty, tear-crusted eyelids. Between the not-so-one-sided arguments of Of fucking course, you're crying again. Who are you going to tell now to comfort you, you attention-whore? and I am so utterly tired again and This time I won't rely on anyone, I realized that I am back to that year again. When I wished that I could go to sleep and never have to wake up to live day by day again. I found it too difficult earlier to get up from my bed and go to the bathroom so that the fan would at least cover up some of gaspy wheezes. But the wretch that I am couldn't even make it to the bathroom (in my tiny apartment), so I just buckled and cried on the floor into Winston (not as effective at silencing me as the bathroom fan probably would have been). Don't worry, Roomie was outside eating, watching the teevee, and Skyping the boyfriend, so I didn't disturb her.
But today, again, Roomie has proved herself to be the best I could have possibly asked for. God bless her. I was silently wishing that she would just sit there and pretend to not look at me convulsing. Mean!me inside my head offered some very strong You just an audience for your pathetic little whines counterarguments. So I held strong (not really a good use of the word here for the emotional goulash that I currently am) and only told Roomie that I was heading out for yoga.
Behold what I returned to find on my desk (in an empty apartment):
What did I ever do to deserve this perfect roommate and friend? Bless her, Jesus. Bless every single one of her fibers. Because I couldn't have imagined a more wonderful person.
Although, I don't want to talk about anything right now with anyone. Because I cannot explain to myself what all is wrong exactly and because I am too mentally exhausted.
I thought that by covering myself with my blanket and washing my face repeatedly, I could just wish my obnoxious crying away. But I woke up again with sore and nasty, tear-crusted eyelids. Between the not-so-one-sided arguments of Of fucking course, you're crying again. Who are you going to tell now to comfort you, you attention-whore? and I am so utterly tired again and This time I won't rely on anyone, I realized that I am back to that year again. When I wished that I could go to sleep and never have to wake up to live day by day again. I found it too difficult earlier to get up from my bed and go to the bathroom so that the fan would at least cover up some of gaspy wheezes. But the wretch that I am couldn't even make it to the bathroom (in my tiny apartment), so I just buckled and cried on the floor into Winston (not as effective at silencing me as the bathroom fan probably would have been). Don't worry, Roomie was outside eating, watching the teevee, and Skyping the boyfriend, so I didn't disturb her.
But today, again, Roomie has proved herself to be the best I could have possibly asked for. God bless her. I was silently wishing that she would just sit there and pretend to not look at me convulsing. Mean!me inside my head offered some very strong You just an audience for your pathetic little whines counterarguments. So I held strong (not really a good use of the word here for the emotional goulash that I currently am) and only told Roomie that I was heading out for yoga.
Behold what I returned to find on my desk (in an empty apartment):
What did I ever do to deserve this perfect roommate and friend? Bless her, Jesus. Bless every single one of her fibers. Because I couldn't have imagined a more wonderful person.
Although, I don't want to talk about anything right now with anyone. Because I cannot explain to myself what all is wrong exactly and because I am too mentally exhausted.
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