Dawn's Digression.
Friday, March 21, 2003
I had a fucking awful night last night.
Mom called me at around 7:30 asking me to get out there because Granny was doing horribly. I pull Michele out a meeting, have her come home and get me, and drive me an hour to the hospital. Where we stay for an hour. Then we come home. I am not going to tell you all the ugliness that ensued, because it doesn't make either Michele or I look very good. But let's just say it was after 3am before I fucking got to sleep. I finally found it in my heart to get pissed off at her.
I kept trying to talk myself out of being pissed off. She has, after all, been wonderfully perfect. I need to cut her a break if she isn't perfect for a moment. And I tried, I'm still trying. Really.
I was just so pissed. Not just at her. At the whole situation. Once a week someone is going to call me to drop everything and go out there. Which is okay, in a way. It is the emotional aspect of it that kills me. I want to be there for her. Truly. I will go out there. But each time they call, I freak out. Maybe next time I won't. I hope I won't. And watch, the first time I don't freak out, it will be for real. I just don't know how to handle all the emotions. I feel like I'm doing a terrible job. Last night at ya know, 11:45, I was cleaning out the litter boxes, which we keep in a closet. I crawled in the closet and sat in the corner. Pathetic, yes. Comforting, yes. Then Michele came in and found me to be pathetic, but not in a cute way. I was freaking my shit. I really was. The old me came rip-roaring out...anything in my path was due for massive destruction. I finally ended up screaming my lungs out at 3am. I mean screaming. Not words. Just screams. My throat still hurts. Today my eyes hurt from crying so much last night.
Neither Michele or I know how to handle me. I don't understand the amount of drama I'm feeling. I'm constantly pissed, sad, or appreciative. It varies. But the moods are killing me. I feel so bad for Michele. I don't know how to be less moody. I know she is doing the best she can in dealing with me. For the most part, she is exceeding expectations. I just feel like when she gets frustrated with the process, she needs to bottle it and vent elsewhere. I cannot be objective, hard as I try.
Mom called me at around 7:30 asking me to get out there because Granny was doing horribly. I pull Michele out a meeting, have her come home and get me, and drive me an hour to the hospital. Where we stay for an hour. Then we come home. I am not going to tell you all the ugliness that ensued, because it doesn't make either Michele or I look very good. But let's just say it was after 3am before I fucking got to sleep. I finally found it in my heart to get pissed off at her.
I kept trying to talk myself out of being pissed off. She has, after all, been wonderfully perfect. I need to cut her a break if she isn't perfect for a moment. And I tried, I'm still trying. Really.
I was just so pissed. Not just at her. At the whole situation. Once a week someone is going to call me to drop everything and go out there. Which is okay, in a way. It is the emotional aspect of it that kills me. I want to be there for her. Truly. I will go out there. But each time they call, I freak out. Maybe next time I won't. I hope I won't. And watch, the first time I don't freak out, it will be for real. I just don't know how to handle all the emotions. I feel like I'm doing a terrible job. Last night at ya know, 11:45, I was cleaning out the litter boxes, which we keep in a closet. I crawled in the closet and sat in the corner. Pathetic, yes. Comforting, yes. Then Michele came in and found me to be pathetic, but not in a cute way. I was freaking my shit. I really was. The old me came rip-roaring out...anything in my path was due for massive destruction. I finally ended up screaming my lungs out at 3am. I mean screaming. Not words. Just screams. My throat still hurts. Today my eyes hurt from crying so much last night.
Neither Michele or I know how to handle me. I don't understand the amount of drama I'm feeling. I'm constantly pissed, sad, or appreciative. It varies. But the moods are killing me. I feel so bad for Michele. I don't know how to be less moody. I know she is doing the best she can in dealing with me. For the most part, she is exceeding expectations. I just feel like when she gets frustrated with the process, she needs to bottle it and vent elsewhere. I cannot be objective, hard as I try.
Dawn, 2:45 PM
