A Sunday in Bed

I woke up early this morning, just before 8. The plan was to fix my hair, which I had rolled last night, and go to church. I felt hideous. I shut off the alarm and went back to bed. I've been up twice to go to the bathroom, once to get coffee and the muffin I bought yesterday for today's breakfast. the rest of the day I have sat here in bed waiting for time to pass. It has just gone past the lunch hour. I've been looking at movies to watch but actually, I can't get past the first five or 10 minutes of anything. I've switched several times.

I was reading something, not a novel, just a devotional, around 9 o'clock and out of the blue this amazing . . . vision if you will, rushed at me of me running to meet Jerry and throwing my arms around him and he spinning me around. Stupid, stupid, stupid. No idea why or whence it came. It was cruel and painful and ripped me to shreds. I've been here in bed for hours and I do not know when I will be able to get up and face reality. I do not want to get up. I do not want to think. And I do not want to hear platitudes. If one more person tells me it will get better, they're going to find out how many swear words I actually learned listening to Daddy when he drank.

I want to get something to eat but nothing appeals to me. There isn't really anything in the fridge to fix. I've let it get empty. I'm going to give my large freezer to Dave and Becca. They have use for it. If I need anything else, I'll just find me a small chest type. I have a few things in the refrigerator freezer but I usually fill it up with ice trays. I drink a lot of iced tea, sodas, and water.

I also have a cold... nose was all stuffy for several days now. I think I should go see about food. It really is too much bother, though. I'm just really very tired.

And yes, I'm taking the stuff for depression. I'm not depressed. I don't know what I am. Hollow, empty, dejected, filled with an unendurable sense of loss, a sense of never finding my way back, shrouded in a mist that clears briefly but then shrouds me in a thick cloud.

I tired to sleep but couldn't get to sleep. Kat called around 1 and I talked with her for a bit. I am afraid I was not much in a chatting mood. I was very down but it was a good thing to have to think not think about my own life and laugh at some of the things she has seen while she was there. We, of course, talked about writing and how we were going to handle the next set of scenes in the Inkwell. Initially we had intended to be done by now but life interfered. So we'll be stretching it out for at least another week. We've both been working on things that will fill the week up and I hope by next weekend we can get the culmination out there.

I think we've both got a lot of stuff from this experience and we're read to move to another idea or story line.

I finally fixed something to eat about 2. I was beginning to feel strange and figured I should probably eat and see it I felt better. I don't know if I did or not. I feel very disconnected and not sure what that means.

Then, I decided to take the rollers out and fix my hair. I hate it. It looks horrible. I don't like it at all but it 's up and shall remain. I think part of it is that I looked in the mirror and realized I look old today. I didn't recognized myself for a minute. And all the white hair that was visible on the rollers was a real shock. I hadn't noticed when I was rolling it last night but this morning, there was the nearly white head of hair in the front. I wasn't happy with it and it only served to feed an already bad mood.

I'm still in bed. I have to dress in a couple of hours but until then, I'll stay right here. I need to get something to drink too as I may be a bit dehydrated. I've had two cups of coffee, one glass of juice and a glass of iced tea all day... well, except for the water when I took my pills.

This is a totally worthless, depressing post. Sorry, I can't fix it.