I hope and expect you’ll see your way through this, some way or another. And I respectfully disagree; doesn’t seem minor to me.
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Oh, I’m sure I will. I always do. It’s just painful to watch the romantic part of my nature take flight again, knowing that it’s on a ballistic trajectory and will be crashing down sooner rather than later. It’s a lovely feeling, soaring like that. Addictive, almost. But the ground always wins, in the end, and the journey up just usually isn’t worth the inevitable impact.
It’s why I’ve essentially tried to kill off that part of myself, to deny any vision of the future that imagines me with a partner, because evidence increasingly indicates that won’t happen. And yet… I can’t wish it away, no matter how I try. It’s so much a part of every story that I’ve read since I was a child; every biological imperative to ensure a next generation. Denying that that’s the future I want is like denying that I have a left arm. I can hold it behind my back for as long as I can stay focused, and get by fine (for the most part) with just the right one, but the moment something pops up to engage my instincts rather than my conscious mind, it’s clear that it was there all along, waiting for the first sign it might become useful.
It’s just frustrating. Being able to build a fortress of solitude out of pure logic, and dwell there in a mostly contented (although slightly lethargic) state… and then a wrecking ball knocks the fortress down, leaving me in the rubble with a clear view of where I really want to be, and of the seemingly insurmountable chasm between here and there.
I know I’ll get through this. Again. I just wish…
No, that’s a lie. I can’t make that wish. I wish that I could wish that my disposition towards limerence would go away. But, I can’t. I’m stuck with both it and my dependence on it.
*Sigh*. Ah, well. Dwelling on it isn’t going to help matters. I just have to wait it out.
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Is everyone’s love life in the toilet? Screw you Mercury Retrograde.
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Unless it’s been retrograde for the vast majority of the past twenty years, I don’t think I can put any blame on Mercury for the porcelain domicile my love life inhabits.
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First it causes autism, then it tanks your love life…
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You write so beautifully and descriptively about your situation, but it’s still painful to read. I wish there was some way to help you get to a different place, figuratively if not literally.
Have you contacted the woman (since you saw her at the wedding) to say ‘hi’ at all? For all you know, she might be contemplating a move to your area. Why not say something low-key like “it was great to see you again. Is there any chance you might be in my neck of the woods in the near future? I’d love to catch up.”
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Next one starts the 26th.
For those about to say it’s bunk: yeah, I know, but for 3-4 times a year, I have a 3 week block where all the random shit that crosses me has a category.
I need that.
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Huh. Low-key, you say? Not exactly my forte, but I think I can figure it out.
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I’m already worried about whether or not my dad might have an infection around his stomach tube, and he’s being a stubborn SOB about going to the doctor to get it checked.
Now my beloved dog Danny has developed a dry, wheezy cough. It could be anything… but given his advanced age, history of heart murmur and cancer… I don’t think it’s looking good. I’m trying to work up the courage to take him into the emergency vet, which in any case will eat up a chunk of my rapidly dwindling savings. (Add to that-- if Danny’s picked up an infection of some sort, my other dog Sheba will need to be checked out too.) It also means leaving my dad alone for hours, and while he seems okay at the moment, I don’t like that either.
FML.
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We’re still @the emergency vet… diagnosis is mild pneumonia. Which is very treatable! Other than congestion in his lungs he’s actually in pretty good shape. Now Dad and I have to watch Sheba like a hawk to make sure she doesn’t catch it, and yeah, this bill won’t be fun… but it’s only money, right? I was so afraid…
…which means the main problem when I get home is talking my dad into going to the doctors, or emergency if the area around the feeding tube looks inflamed. But so far… 
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I have to say that the BBS today is just full of hostility. WTF?
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Fingers crossed for you all, including you. The constant worry’s got to be having an impact on you. Sending hugs from an internet stranger
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Awww, thanks! 
So far, so good. My dog Danny has his antibiotics, which should help. The skin around Dad’s feeding tube looks better, and he’s tentatively agreed to a check up with his doctor as soon as I can make an appointment. It was just… a lot of stress from a lot of directions at once, and I was wigging out. I’m kind of embarrassed now. Thanks to all for letting me vent, and the good wishes! Last night we got some rest, with pizza and movies, and I’m better today.
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The transmission just failed in my car. The only good thing is that I was meters away from my parent’s place. But I have no money to pay for this.
Bloody fucking hell.
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Don’t be embarrassed, please! That’s what this thread is for. And no wonder you were wigging out with so many worries at once. So glad you’re feeling a little better and that things are ok-ish with your dad, Danny and Sheba.
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Fuck. Godammit, these things always happen at the worst times. Good luck with getting the transmission fixed or a replacement car somehow.
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Fuck Today.
Fuck getting out of bed.
Fuck not waking up until I was on the drive in.
Fuck.
Fuck packages being delivered to the wrong person.
Fuck every goddamned contact at Vendor X being on vacation.
Fuck mysterious shit happening to machines with no rhyme or reason.
Fuck having to stay until near Seven, going over everything I’d already gone over.
Fuck not getting to what I needed to get to today.
And now, fuck the stopper not coming out of the Knob Creek.
Happy Monday everyone.
.
.
.
.
.
As an addendum, since this is basically a holdover from yesterday…
Fuck 16 hour days!!!
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Danny’s gone.
He didn’t seem much better after a couple days of antibiotics, so we kept the vet appointment we had for this morning. He seemed sick but okay at first… then he started to crash, and crash hard. The pneumonia may have masked cardiac issues, or maybe his cancer came back without warning. They felt he wasn’t going to recover and was suffering. I had to have him put down.
Childish as it is, I’m not taking it well. (Translation: I’m a blubbering wreck.) So don’t be suprised if I’m not around much for a while.
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It’s not childish at all. You’ve lost a family member.
Take the time you need. And remember: you made the right choice.
I suggest finding someone to give you a more tangible hug.
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Don’t feel bad about it. My cat Moo was a total asshole, and his kidneys failed at seven years of age. After we put him down, I cried the whole way home when I realized how much I was going to miss him. i’m certain your bond was stronger than ours.
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