1:16 am - July 31, 2015
Marley
I didn't die.
Fuzzydog went in a vet's suite nearly a year ago.
I flew back to the Midwest at Thanksgiving to see the parents and mostly G-ma. She didn't communicate much, but I got to hold her hand in church and she told me she loved me.
Dad told me I was a whore for having coffee with a college friend. Ky got a lot of glee out of telling dad the coffee was HIS idea when dad texted him about how disappointed he was in me being unfaithful to my husband.
Points to Ky.
G-ma died.
I still didn't die.
I keep wanting to. And not wanting to. I like being funny sometimes.I don't understand how normal people handle a casual parental comment like "If only you would get a real career"
I have one. I'm good at it. I work on my computer, I don't degrade myself or others, I create something of worth and I go home satisfied that the recipients of my reports are happy and the people I work with are too.
It's lonely though. The person I thought was my new friend stopped answering after she got fired.
I'm terribly lonely.
But I also have the reputation for working way longer hours than the boss sends out "kudos" emails to other people for.
I'm trying. I love being positive and meeting new people. At home, it's hard to not to understand just what a failure I am and remember that I was cruel to people who loved me.
I feel like I'm slogging in chains every day when I go to work, bouncing off the bottom so I can rise above the waters for a moment to be cheery.
And just in case it's not just a simple blood thing in my eyeball: tonight I had about half an hour when there was a creeping sparkle in front of the right half of my vision, and top quarter. My fingertips went numb. Still finished those last four reports, though.
I think the worst thing that troubles me is "What if my love didn't help anyone at all?
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