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I'm strapping on my skates again. I've missed skating for too long and I need just a couple of hours on the ice to ground myself again. I don't have skating to escape to anymore and things are getting furry.
I'm going on Saturday night with Andrew from 8-10 (before all the drunkeness needs to happen). The rink is down town, give me a ring if you want to join.
I have no plans for All Hallows Eve at all so if you want my presence, let me know about events.
The same guilt lingers over nothings and simply fixed things. The same inability allowing me change or give up on any task. The same unwillingness to let them slip away or contain sadness just sits there, grinning. The lack of comfort when it's my fault and the blow to the ego when I have to admit this over and over, itÂs all there.
I'm tired. No, I'm half alive. Nothing is functioning at full power. Nothing has been so for a long time. A Cruse Control button must exist somewhere in my system. Somehow I keep going.
I hate the onset of depression. It'll probably be gone by morning when I've actually gotten sleep but for now it nestles calmly behind my belly button, making me feel ill and self-conscious; causing thoughts to form a cartwheeling crown around my head, screaming at me, shouting out all of the things I hate worst about myself and reciting anything that could remotely be considered negative. They mock me. They speak the thoughts that lay behind my friends and familyÂs eyes. ÂYour friends don't really miss you. Your mother doesn't really care if you come home. Your father still wishes you were your brother, or that you at least had the common decency to have died during your birth.Â
Tiny metal clamps pierce my skin. Their small, pointed teeth grab any flesh they can find and begin to pull outwards. I scream at them, tell them it can't be done; whimper that it hurts. But this is mechanical and there's no way to stop them. The dancing halo begins to chant and cackle about weakness. The best I could wish for would be sleep. Uninterrupted sleep and a hand to hold that is covered in daemons blood and the residue of small wings and hooves.
But I need to go to work first. ItÂs time to put on the mask. It itches and causes pressure points that become bruses. One of these days IÂll be able to throw the mask away. Hopefully I wonÂt have to get a new one.
Away I trundle.
I've had 3.5 or so hours of sleep and my mind is still amused with the world, despite my eyes protesting to see it.
I began the day at 7am editing an essay that I'm hoping will acutally pass for an essay. I attended my first class ten minutes late and handed in my essay to my TA and went home early. I made a few required sometime phone calls and returned to "Home 2" as Angus has affectionatly tagged it, to a sleeping boy and a warm bed.
Breakfast was had and Bee-Bop was watched. I got down to work after that and though it was not really productive, it was a start. I left for work to find that I'd won a prize from some dumb contest at work and recieved a bag that will now double as a purse *glee* and had a wonderful day at work. I've returned to a familure keyboard and a busted tv (thank the gods I don't use it).
I'm at peace and others are at peace with me. I've lost and then found things and been ok in both places. I'm relaxed and despite the fact that this essay is due in less than 12 hours without a word written on the page I'm comfortable and content. It shall be finished and I shall take the rest of the day off with the exception of work.
It's euphoric and it won't last but i'm enjoying the glow for now.
A happy little leo, basking in the sun.
