This Is the Way We. . .Clean The House

All on a Saturday morning.

Sue is coming over to clean my house. That is Becca's mom. I am going to do her taxes for free so it works for me.

My house is in dire need of it. Not since the funeral has it has a thorough cleaning. I walk around and pick up things but cleaning seems to take a part of the brain that has stopped functioning for me. I wash dishes about ever other day but since it is mostly glasses and utensils, I just don't care anymore. Funny, that used to be a pet peeve when I came home from work.

Of course, I've still got fake plates that people brought for the family to use the week Jerry died and I have used those nearly every day. There are even fake utensils that I've been using. So really the dishes have only been bad when someone else came and cooked and I let them clean up the mess.

Every thing is dusty and needs a mop up too. She is a very good cleaning person. Actually gets behind the toilet! My house always smells so good once she is done.

I need to throw out a pile of stuff. There seems to be junk everywhere but when I look at it I simply stand and stare and have no idea what I am supposed to do. I am not going to be able to function like this. I have to do something but everything is too much work.

I pulled back some of the curtains this morning to allow the sunshine to come in. It is a dark gloomy tomb and I am hoping sunlight will at least push back some of the shadows. I don't imagine it will last very long but just an hour or two of sanity without having to drown myself in some project would be nice.

Already, the drop in my mood is happening. I woke up with it and have not been able to shake it. I'm really tired, as if I didn't rest or something. Those pills are supposed to insure I do. I took a whole one last night and I may today if I can't shake this.

I have to go eat too just in case this shakiness is hunger instead of anxiety.

Oh, I just want my life back. The boring one where Jerry slept in a chair while I did everything else and fussed about it. The one where I could hear him breathing. I wouldn't fuss anymore, I'd just do it.

Old Songs

I am tired. I am weak. I am worn.

The rest of the song is lost in the darkness of the storm.

What a miserable day.

No Escape

Today I am at home reviewing files. This is one of those days my boss suggested I take. Today is NOT a good day for me. Once in awhile I think I am going to go crazy with the barrage of memories, regrets, what ifs, and why didn't I. I get distracted and try to do something constructive only to be slammed again with it all.

I don't know if I have an analogy for what this is like. I can't compare it to anything really. When I was in college psych class, we studied various tests that had given insight into mental illnesses. There was one where a dog was placed in a pen with a bottom that could deliver a small shock. There was a low wall dividing this cage into two section. The floors were independent of one another also. They put this dog in there and sent a charge through the floor. He, logically, jumped the wall to the other side. No shock... for a bit. Then, they shocked that floor. He jumped back over the divider. No shock. Again, this process is repeated over and over until finally, the dog sits in a corner and never moves, despite repeated shocks beneath him. He's reached the hopeless stage where he knows there is no real escape, no real release. So, he sits, no longer even trying to get away from the relentless shocks. If left in this state, he will die because he has become hopeless and given up.

That's as close as I can come to how this feels. Shock, escape, shock, escape, shock. It never ends. There's no way out. No escape.

Broken Switches

It seems that every switch to every part of my brain has broken. When I need to think clearly, I can't. When I don't want to remember things, I can't forget. When I need to remember things, I forget. When I try and shut off the fear, I'm overwhelmed. When I try not to cry, I cry. When I laugh, I feel guilty. When I breath, it hurts.

Nothing is working right. Nothing has worked right since January 29. Every thing I was disappeared in a dark frozen night. When the sun came up, I was somewhere else, somewhere I've never been, where I don't know anyone, where no one knows me. I keep looking for the switch to open the gates. They're all broken, too.

I can't get back. I'm caught in a place where nothing is stable or secure. The ground is constantly shaking under my feet. Flight or fight is a continuous struggle in my gut. I feel as if I've been running or as if someone is lurking around the corner to jump out at me.

I'm going to bed. I'm suddenly very tired.

As Deep as A Grave

I finally figured it out last night. I lay in the dark and truly listened to the sound that has been bothering me so much for weeks now.

It is the sound of nothing, no sound of life, as if all life is shut out. As I lay in my bed, I could almost feel the darkness close itself around me. The house creaked and snapped as the dirt settled over the top of it.

I used to love silence.