I really, really want to write a substantial post. But I am unbelievably tired. Despite my standards for what constitutes "tired." I didn't get much sleep last night, I'd guess 4 hours, tops, because for one, I couldn't seem to turn my brain off for whatever reason. It just kept going. And Phoenix was up and about so much during the night. He kept going in and out of the dog doors. At 4am I finally got up to see what the hell was going on, and I found him and Nali just sort of hanging out in the backyard in the moonlight. It was actually kind of cool. And cute. Even though I was annoyed, the novelty of it was not lost on me. Anyway, 6am came really fast. And getting up was extremely painful. But I pushed through.
So that's my excuse for not writing a whole hell of a lot today, even though I've experienced a myriad of feelings today that I haven't felt in awhile. I want to work them all out and file them away, but not tonight. Also, I was hanging out at my parents house with my sisters and the kids, and my mom was picking my dad up from the airport, so I called them to find out how much longer until they got home so I knew how much longer I needed to stay, and my dad thought I was my older sister and was a total asshole to me. That really upset me. On the car ride home, I started thinking about the possibility that my mental illness and self-esteem issues maybe are not so much a result of mental illness and genetics as they are due to daddy issues. I've long refused to give credence to the possibility that how I was raised is responsible for all my issues, but after being completely immersed in these Sociology classes, I am beginning to wonder how much of my parents choices in raising me continues to affect me to this day.
I do want to make a note of this - today, I feel alone, empty and incomplete. I know why, and I'm trying to work through it, but I have been so strong and stoic about staying focused that I kind of want to allow myself to have a meltdown, just tonight. I probably won't; I'm too tired to put the necessary energy into wanting to feel better after falling apart. So maybe tomorrow when I'm a little stronger
And today is Phoenix's 3rd birthday (or as close as I can pinpoint to it. I got him on July 24th and they told me he was 1 year, 1 month and 1 week old, and I've had him almost two years). I think I have never been so grateful for the birth of a creature. In the words of the immortal Rose DeWitt-Bukater from Titanic (and a cheesier reference was never made, but I so loved that movie in it's time), "He saved me. In every way a person can be saved."
So that's my excuse for not writing a whole hell of a lot today, even though I've experienced a myriad of feelings today that I haven't felt in awhile. I want to work them all out and file them away, but not tonight. Also, I was hanging out at my parents house with my sisters and the kids, and my mom was picking my dad up from the airport, so I called them to find out how much longer until they got home so I knew how much longer I needed to stay, and my dad thought I was my older sister and was a total asshole to me. That really upset me. On the car ride home, I started thinking about the possibility that my mental illness and self-esteem issues maybe are not so much a result of mental illness and genetics as they are due to daddy issues. I've long refused to give credence to the possibility that how I was raised is responsible for all my issues, but after being completely immersed in these Sociology classes, I am beginning to wonder how much of my parents choices in raising me continues to affect me to this day.
I do want to make a note of this - today, I feel alone, empty and incomplete. I know why, and I'm trying to work through it, but I have been so strong and stoic about staying focused that I kind of want to allow myself to have a meltdown, just tonight. I probably won't; I'm too tired to put the necessary energy into wanting to feel better after falling apart. So maybe tomorrow when I'm a little stronger
And today is Phoenix's 3rd birthday (or as close as I can pinpoint to it. I got him on July 24th and they told me he was 1 year, 1 month and 1 week old, and I've had him almost two years). I think I have never been so grateful for the birth of a creature. In the words of the immortal Rose DeWitt-Bukater from Titanic (and a cheesier reference was never made, but I so loved that movie in it's time), "He saved me. In every way a person can be saved."
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