maybe my next project will be writing something worthwhile and interesting
15.04.20 | 6:05 pm

i have started telling myself, “you are in charge of monitoring and managing your moods.”

i have a bad habit: when i am sad (which, currently, is often), i wait and hope/expect that someone else will notice i am sad, and that they will make me feel better.

but of course, that is not helpful or healthy or fair or responsible for a multitude of reasons.

only i can take care of myself.

i’m trying to give myself some kind of project to do each day.

yesterday, i took a bunch of ridiculous quarantine self-portraits (it was really fun actually, highly recommend).

today, it was buying gifts for people to let them know i’m thinking of them.

i don’t know what tomorrow will be. but these things give me more of a purpose. something small to look forward to.

it’s my niece’s ninth birthday today. i wish i could see her.

part of my mind wonders if i caused this pull away — after all, it’s plausible that the things i’ve said or brought up in conversation would cause you to pull back. but i don’t think that’s the case.

and even if it is, would it matter?

but i have this weird fear, that maybe because i gave up and told you about alex, about other things, maybe you took that as a sign. but really it’s just my brain doing backflips. trying to create a narrative that doesn’t exist.

i just did 66% of my workout. and then i laid down on the couch. and that’s where i am now, writing this. i don’t want to finish it. i want to order domino’s again (but i won’t). i need to stop drinking so much wine.

reading is difficult in these times. i find it hard to focus on much of anything. even the podcasts, youtube videos, tv shows i normally like to listen to or watch — i will start them, endure one or two minutes, and just turn them off. i can’t turn my brain off like that, though i wish i could.

i do okay throughout the day because i can teach and work out and walk emma and eat and clean. but then beyond that, usually after four o’clock, i’m lost at sea. and it plunges me into this ridiculously despondent mood. i don’t want to move. i want to just stare at the wall. legitimately — i did that for two hours the other day, just stared at the wall.

i wish i still had that anchor of someone to talk to throughout the entire day. it gave me something to look forward to. something concrete — someone who was awake at the same time as me, someone to connect with.

and i know i keep saying it, but it’s because it’s true — i feel so alone now. and i know, physically, i am alone. but i’m also lucky — i have so many friends in this world who try their best to reach out to me and let me know that they’re there. i’m so thankful for that. but it doesn’t entirely replace the actual sensation of being physically alone.

even my mom today — my mom, who works constantly, who hardly ever sleeps, who never just sits at home — she called me and told me she thinks she’s depressed. she can’t work right now (not really), and all she wants to do is sleep. it’s like she can’t even get herself off the couch to go for a walk. and i told her, i know, i get it. i’m sorry. soon, sometime soon, we’ll get back to normal. but will we?

this entire entry is repetitive. i mean, really though, what else do i have to talk about?

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