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It's ten minutes until it's too late to think about getting into the shower and getting ready for Shadowplay. It's been at least a month since I've gone. I just don't see making it happen, tonight. I thought about it all day and planned for it all day, but, I'm so out of the habit.

I think a lot of my tearfulness would be abated if I went. I don't know why this is so, but it has been my experience.

I think I need to dance.

But I hate the feeling of being in my body, right now, I don't want anyone to see me. And I can't dance when I feel like this.

It just sucks.

It's possible if I take a shower I will feel less horrible when I get out and dry my hair. I could try that and then see if I really can't do it.

If I knew I didn't have to interact with anyone it would be easier.

I always feel outside and on the periphery of things. Not really a part of it. But I kind of prefer it this way. It feels somehow safer. There is always an escape.

I told Josh tonight, I don't want to go, but I want to have gone.

I don't have to work tomorrow so I can stay as late as I want. That's always a plus.

It's Ophelia's birthday so the attention will be on her, but also Derek will be drunk and the music will be half blah.

I don't want to deal with humans.

I am raw dogging it sober and it's hard, days like this.

..

I can tell when I am extra depressed because every sentence I write here begins with "I" - it is a very inward-facing disease. I am ashamed of how self-centered it makes me. It's ugly and gross and I'm sorry. I want to get back to facing outward. Trying to look out, look up, look anywhere but here.

..

I have had a lot of different kinds of awful things happen to me. Lots of my life has been magical and beautiful, too.

But sometimes something triggers a memory of one of these viscerally painful events, like this morning when I was doing makeup and remembering a day visiting my grandmother as she lay slowly taking years to die, miserably and feeling abandoned and alone (she told me this. there was a point in time when mom stopped visiting but I, in my early 20s, insisted on continuing to go see her, by myself) in a "care" home that didn't have anything beyond the bare minimum of care. The sleep I was pulling out of one of my eyes reminded me of the sleep caught in her eyes and stuck to her eyelashes.

And that loss and the emotions around it just slammed into my chest like a wrecking ball, and I started to sob, and could not stop, for several minutes, with ribcage thudding sobs and tears pouring down my face.

My grief is compounded, because of so many other losses, so many of them infinitely painful, watching parents die penniless and in misery is not recommended, especially after watching it happen to grandparents and not having other family support or connection to sustain one through the loss. I had my brother, but, he became too painful to be around for other reasons. (He kept taking money. Among other chronic emotional problems.) My second mother, my ice skating coach, died from cancer in her early 60s. I've lost multiple friends to cancer, each loss it gets harder to be the one left breathing.

....

Another acquaintance lost a parent recently, and immediately gained a house. This is someone I felt a camaraderie of sorts with in the past, because we were both low income and struggling in similar ways. I am happy for her and so glad things are improving for her, but. I did not get a house when my parents died. So part of me feels weirdly betrayed by the feeling that we were on the same footing, before. We were not. I am sorry for her loss, and I am happy for her improved living situation, I am so glad she will be okay, but, also, a little jealous. It feels petty and childish. Also I do have a supportive wonderful spouse now and have zero to complain about. And so many people have it so much worse than I do. I know I am fortunate and should count every blessing a thousand times over. I know this.

But my body doesn't know that I am safe yet.

uuugghhhhh it's well past nine. What to doooooooooooo.

It's just soooooo tempting to snuggle back into the world's most peaceful bed. To save my ears from the worsening tinnitus. To hide my unattractive figure. I just want to sleeeeeeeeeep foreveeeeeeeeeeer.

..

I was thinking today that I would probably not have anti-natalist tendencies if it weren't for the fact that my parents made me feel as if I was a failure and not worth the effort they put into raising me. And that I should be more mindful to give grace to people who are not anti-natalist. It's probably not in my control, to feel this way, nor theirs, to feel differently. I almost never vocalize my anti-natalist feelings, it's not an acceptable feeling to express. It's not welcome. It would be like admitting to atheism (which I also am) but worse. I hide a lot of myself from most of the world. Not here though. I'm vaguely ashamed of myself. I wish I felt differently. I wish I felt better.

I don't know if going out would help. It sucks not going, but I know better than to push myself when I don't feel well, I will definitely regret that, too. It should be something to look forward to, not a chore.

Going to the club at age 50 is a lot different than going at 30 or 40.

...

When I do regular grief meditations, I don't get slammed in the chest out of the blue right before a full work day with unbearable sadness. I have been avoiding it, for weeks. This is a good lesson. To prioritize it. It's such a hard balance though, because if I focus on it too much, that's also unhealthy.

I will sit quietly and ask my heart what's best.

I think I need a new kind of shadowplay.