Saw my therapist today (virtually, of course).
Folks, I'm in as dark a place as I've ever been. The unbearable pain of losing Doug is only worsened by everything else going on.
People are hoarding all kinds of food, cleaning supplies, and paper products. Do you know how hard that is for me? I can barely force myself to eat foods that I DO find appetizing; when my grocery order is missing more than half of what I ordered, it becomes near impossible. Also, I'm down to my last three rolls of toilet paper and my last can of Lysol. I have no bleach.
There are people who are literally exposing themselves to COVID-19 intentionally, and they're putting healthcare workers at risk. My sister is a critical care nurse; her husband is a respiratory therapist; her oldest daughter's husband is a nurse practitioner. And these people - these irresponsible, foolish people - are putting everyone they come in contact with at risk. For what? A viral TikTok video? What is WRONG with people? Granted, I've said I'd be happy to get COVID-19, but that's because I know I'm not going to waste any healthcare resources or expose anyone to it: I'd get it, and hopefully fade off into oblivion without ever bothering a doctor, nurse, respiratory therapist, or any other healthcare professional.
Meanwhile, approximately half of this country still thinks COVID-19 is a hoax. Or a conspiracy.
As far as I'm concerned, not wanting to be alive anymore is the SANEST response to the enormous pile of shit that is my daily existence.
My sister and brother-in-law were supposed to come back here this weekend. We were going to spend time together and work on some small projects around the house and yard. Now, I don't know when they'll ever be able to get back, and working on stuff around the house by myself is NOT happening.
I have had only one, very brief phone conversation with my sister in the past week, because she's working an insane amount of hours. Last night, she texted me at 8 PM Eastern (she works day shift, by the way), and said in part, "I was planning to call you when I left, but I haven't left yet. This is the worst thing I've ever seen." I told her to be careful, and she replied, "I am. I am so scared right now."
For context: my sister has been a nurse since 1980; she's seen the early days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic; she's seen multiple flu epidemics and one pandemic; she was prepared to deal with Ebola patients during the major outbreak a few years ago. NEVER, until now, has she ever told me that she's scared.
When my sister is scared? It's not good, folks.
Getting my train of thought back on the tracks: Had a session with Brooke today. One thing I'll give her, she doesn't blow smoke up my ass. She didn't try to take a Pollyanna approach to any of this; she said she understands exactly why I feel the way I do.
We talked about my desire to get some kind of communication from Doug, and she suggested that, if I'm back to sleeping only four hours a night, that's not going to happen: I need to get REM sleep. She recommended I try going for a walk - not as a fitness thing, but as a sleep thing. Problem is, walking IS a fitness thing, and I'm not particularly inclined or motivated to do anything right now that would extend my life. If I KNEW that taking a walk would bring Doug to my dreams, I would do it, but I'm not sure it's worth the trouble for a maybe.
My days are a blur of inactivity and mostly failed attempts to distract myself from the reality of my existence. I have neither the energy nor the motivation to do ANYTHING. I can't really tell you what I do all day, because I don't really do anything: some writing, some Netflix, taking care of the animals... I don't know how the time is passing, but every day feels like a century and a second.
It's all just so exhausting, and infuriating, and terrifying, and I can't cope with it at all. A break from reality would be lovely.
But my psyche apparently won't even let that happen, so I remain trapped in a reality and an existence that I want nothing more than to escape.
No comments:
Post a Comment