Daily Post 117: Rough Day


This is going to be a whiny post.
You have been warned.


I don’t want to be here. And by here I mean at work. I have grading I need to do. I don’t want to do it. I have water I should be drinking, so it’s sitting next to me feeling neglected.


I had the thought on the way to work that when I get back to Vegas I’ll be able to level through my taekwondo belt tests fairly quickly because I’ve been practicing on my own. And that was quickly followed by the thought that mom would be proud of me for being passionate about something. Which in turn was quickly followed by the thought that mom won’t be here to see me pass my tests, or to tell me that I had nothing to worry about when I have my freak out before the tests.


Last night was rough. Yesterday was rough.


By all accounts yesterday should have been an awesome day.


I woke up. I went to the bank and got things situated so I could pay off my credit card completely. I got a check to pay Clavan back. I went to work. I went to the gym where I had a pretty awesome workout. I went grocery shopping when I got home and even went out and picked up Chinese food before going back home to watch more Sword Art Online.


But yesterday felt hollow. All of those awesome things I did were just things. And even though I smiled and had happy moments there was this sadness blanketing everything. Damping everything. And as the night wore on it got worse.


It’s still here today. This sadness.


I played Witcher III for a bit, and that helped, but the reprieve didn’t last long. Trying to go back to sleep didn’t help.


The comment of, “It will be better when you wake up,” was an unintended knife in my chest because my thought, the response I bit back because it was unfair, was that it wouldn’t be ok. Mom will still be dead when I wake up.


And she was. She wasn’t magically back, and things are still hollow feeling and I’m still sad and alone, and I wish I knew why some days were like this. I wish there was some trigger that I knew about so I could avoid it.


But there isn’t.


It’s just another day.


It’s another day where I have obligations. I have to go to work. I have to eat. I have to take care of myself and shower and interact with people and every interaction depletes an energy bar that can only be felt. I can feel it draining, draining, draining until it takes all of my effort to simply remain silent. This hurt and anger and pain isn’t anyone’s fault, but that doesn’t make it less real, and it doesn’t take away the need to unleash it somehow. And the lower my tolerance gets the more it takes to not unleash it on those around me.


Today was another scream day. It helped a little. Maybe more than I think since I’m able to sit here and type this without crying. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve been able to write without doing that. Maybe part of that has to do with how I feel detached from my emotions right now and how I’m not writing to mom. I’m just writing because writing keeps me busy. Too bad I have another 3 and a half hours to consume with pointless, trivial nonsense before I’m left figuring out what to do with the rest of my day.


I want silence. Emptiness. Peace. I want to cry and scream until I’m exhausted and to fall asleep without having to take Nyquil to do it.


I’ve been pushing too hard at the gym and I know it. My body reminds me everytime I try to do something.


Body: Hey, you used those muscles. A lot. And I’m angry at you for that.


Thanks, Body. But I don’t know what else to do. I stopped smoking, which is good. I didn’t like doing it. So now I workout instead for the endorphins.


Emotional Brain: Feeling bad? Do an awesome workout. See? You feel better. *a few hours later…* Starting for feel bad again? Go for a mile run. You still have enough in you to do that.


But that rush, those endorphines… they never last. I start to feel bad again. It might be hours later. It might not be until the next day… but those feelings always come back. There’s no way to escape them. I can only push them back for so long before they overwhelm me, like today on the way to work. How the sadness refused to be pushed aside anymore. How I screamed over and over again as I cried because there was nothing else I could do. There was no way else to let it out.


And so now I’m tired, and I wish I could say I’m empty, but I’m not. I know there’s more there. It’s just not the overflow that it was. I feel like I’m limping along today.


I don’t want to be here, but I am. I don’t want to feel anything, but I am.


I wish I knew what to do other than survive. I wish surviving felt like it was enough, or that it meant something, but right now, today, in this hour, it doesn’t. It feels pointless and in my apathy I’m not sorry for feeling that way. In my virtual page where I’m allowed to spill everything out so I can try to make sense of it all, I’m not sorry for writing that sometimes it feels pointless, because in the wake of mom’s death a lot of things are pointless.


The only thing that I want is to hear my mom’s voice again, and I can’t have that. So the only thing I can do is keep breathing through today, through the pain.


I wish it didn’t feel like an impossible never end task.


I’m sorry today is hard, mom. I’m sorry yesterday was hard, too. I love you. I miss you. I promise I’ll still test for taekwondo even though you won’t physically be there. I promise I’ll wake up tomorrow. I promise to get the grading done today, and I promise that I’ll eat dinner at some point.


I know it’s just another day, and I’m sorry I’m having such a hard time with it. Please help me get through it.


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