it's one of those times when it's very uncomfortable to be me. i have a pretty clear vision of how I want my life to be and it doesn't seem like it would take that much to get there. But it's always just beyond reach. I could go see my therapist, and I do believe in the therapeutic process, but it seems like we've talked the issues inside out and backwards, too. I feel my being able to keep up at work slipping away and the household has definitely gotten away from me. There's a couple of people who are silent that hearing even a simple, 'I know things are rough right now' would help alot. But it's not there; just a deafening silence that says more than any words they would utter. My thinking is fuzzy. I'm uncomfortable in my body. I fantasize about assuming a new identity and beginnign a new life; if I could start out with a level playing field in some ways, it would be awfully tempting.
It's the kind of period where I buy a gingerbread man, get one with only one eye and it reminds me of a client with one eye who died earlier this year. It's the kind of period where I soak my feet when I cross the street, not being quite able to straddlea puddle. Where, when I take my second bite of lunch, I get tomato sauce all down the front of my new blouse I really like. Where later, someone says, 'come here, you 've got something on your jacket', and it turns out it's a huge smudge of icing where you backed into a cake when someone wouldn't make room for you to get through. Where you get a paper cut that won't stop bleeding and you have a hard time finding someone who has a bandaid and then an even harder time getting help putting it on, so it's all wrinkled around your finger when you end up doing it yourself..