Desperate

My coffee is just going to be no good this morning. I hate going to be the store now and need creamer. I was actually given a ton of powdered cream when I was given a bunch of other strange things. Can’t find it. I probably gave it away. It’s just not the same as half and half. Now my coffee has milk in it. Just plain old 2 percent not even whole. It’s not creamy enough. I am going to taste the coffee. It even looks weird. Like coffee,not coffee with cream. But I am desperate for a cup of coffee.

Im feeling desperate. That’s what it is. I am desperate to be held and touched again. I am trying too hard and in ways I never would. I am not about to sign up for online “dating”. That was a nightmare when I was desperate once before. Someday I’ll write about it. Not today. It’s not in my mind. Except what not to do when desperate.

The universe is supposed to be taking care of me. I have been taking care of myself all this time and now I am getting impatient because I want company. I had a pretty uneventful marriage until the end when he couldn’t express his needs and found them elsewhere. I also couldn’t express mine. But found them no where.

Until then he was just kind of there. Just this other person who did things in my vicinity. We sort of never had anything to do with each other. I kept thinking I was failing and I started to really try. Like demand I do things for him. Which apparently worked since he didn’t like to do them himself. Then It just became the norm. I did everything for everyone but myself. We never traveled together. I didn’t know my style of music and only his and when I would listen to something other than his I was clearly seeing someone else. Liking someone else’s music. Not trying to learn what I liked. This is just the tip of the iceberg of how it slowly became. It snuck up on me. The worse it got,the harder I tried, the farther away from myself I got.

So much kept me there. We had 4 kids together one with special needs. The less care she required the more I started to see. And not see it.

I didn’t wake wanting too work through my failed marriage. I have slots of time and money spent with a professional on this topic. It is also starting to slowly thaw out and keeps surfacing. It’s a loss. It’s bound to surface. Grief drags it all to the surface. Every lost pet, baby, grandparent, job, love is dragged up from the bottom of that place we put them. Because I’m grieving with a loss I can’t cope with. I’m desperate to move past grief. To let it sink again.

I woke worried about my daughter eating herself to death. She is eating everything in site. She is grief eating. She doesn’t understand her loss of her grandpa. Except she does. She just can’t talk about it or express it like some. So she eats. Everything. She is sensitive to weight gain as it is. We were also walking and hiking so much during the shut down. Then I started having to work like crazy and haven’t been able to walk her. I am planning to hide food today. She got furious that I took a whole grain pop tart from her. I don’t even know why I have a whole grain pop tart. I don’t think of nutritional value when I buy those. I rarely buy them. She will be pissed for about a week of this hiding food. Then she will forget. Change the thoughts is all it takes. I need to make her think of something besides food.

She wakes and asks about lunch and dinner and plans. She lays out her meals on the counters. Spaghetti Os and a can of corn and fruit, various snacks to fill the void until that time, a container of orange juice. All laid out to remind me to feed her. Her day revolves around whether or not she will make it to lunch or dinner. Maybe in her mind some people don’t get to have lunch and dinner anymore. Like her grandpa. Or that that morning he woke he didn’t get to lunch. Barely even breakfast. I can only guess what she is thinking. It’s a good thing I’m her mother because I love to guess what others think not actually know. That’s saying I’m not a mind reader is a challenge for me. I love a good challenge. She is challenging.

Yes my coffee is gross. I should have made hot chocolate or just a giant glass of water. Or nothing.

I just woke frustrated that no one is here. I keep listening to a song that is burned into my mind that people would rather die than be without someone. Doesn’t that seem a little dramatic? Or is it romantic? I’m pretty sure if someone told me they would rather die than be without me I would run for the mountains. It would panic me to no end. I would never ask that of another human. To take a bullet for me. Or to chose death over his time with himself. It’s ridiculous. My ex left to fill a void he didn’t feel like telling me he needed filled. He took care of himself. How can I blame him? To be fair I wish he would have at minimum said hey I need to leave. That is my pain not the actual reason. It was the leaving.

My very first thought when I found out about her was about her. What made her so unsure of herself that she did this? Found my husband online on a site dedicated to married people to meet. States away. She sounded so desperate. I was worried for her. He even told me her husband was abusive and controlling. I feared for her life. I asked if she needed help. That’s how I am. It confused him. It took me years and still is taking years to see that I never thought of myself in that moment. I can’t put myself back in that room next to the piano by the doorway of that conversation and make it change. In my mind I will have always worried about this woman who looking back was me. A version of me.

I don’t want to feel desperate. Impulsiveness comes from this feeling. I rarely think first when speaking to others. I just blurt out first thoughts. I never feel there is time to think and when I take the time to think I can feel the appréhension of the other converser of why I am hesitating then I think of this and can’t answer at all. Then I panic at what I said days later. That’s where I am today. In panic of things said I didn’t think first of. Because I didn’t have time before it flew from my mouth. Because I am desperate.

Someone joked. “No wonder you are alone.” This bothers me. For two reasons. One, she said alone and not on my own. She didn’t get my therapists memo that I am not alone. I am on my own. Because she doesn’t really know me. Two, who says that? What is her issue with herself unresolved to look at me as not on my own but alone.

So many people keep trying to encourage me to stop the thoughts. There are ways Im told. I’ve never tried weed. Period. I only recently discovered that a skunk smell is weed. I called and complained that a skunk had gotten into our basement laundry room. Thé maintenance man thought I was the one smoking it likely. Until he met me and said maybe I should be. Growing up my parents did. They hid it not well at all. They are hippies. Were. My dad died so isn’t anymore. Unless you stay one even when dead. He is still me dad dead so he is also still a hippie just dead. I loved the smell. It was sweeter than this skunk. I used to find the parts used and things in their dresser drawer just to know. I was curious but also not. I don’t know that I still am curious or not. I just know that people think I should. I bother other people that much. One of my friends said I make him want to drink. Nice friend right? I don’t make me want to drink.

I would love to get great sleep every night but things happen in the night at my house that require alertness. Awareness and control of myself. I wish I had a life that didn’t require this but my cards are dealt and given. Is that right? That saying? Or is it I’ve played the cards dealt? Either way I don’t even play cards. No one to play with. I haven’t been taught.

As desperate as I am feeling I still could never picture someone here. Like right now. What would they be doing? Would they be up in my space while I write. I would need two houses. I don’t even have one house. Would they need their lunch packed. Would they be furious I am too afraid to go the store to buy cream and be around all the people afraid of me and themselves. Would they need me first thing? What if I couldn’t be needed? What if I needed them and they couldn’t be needed? How does it work? Would they bring me a fountain soda? Would they remember me? Do I care? I don’t know.

I’m full of what ifs from being desperate. It’s probably a good thing I have my first in person therapy today. I need therapy today. Or Im going to do something impulsive. To not feel desperate but it won’t work. I will be more desperate. Then impulsive, then desperate again.