the crier

Friday, August 5, 2016

Coming off hormonal birth control, month 2. I am noticing a mood pattern, although I'm told to expect the unexpected for at least 6 months to a year. I have just entered the week wherein everything is sad, meaningless, pointless, and reminds me that we will all be dead one day, rendering every daily task, idea, dream, achievement completely useless. Work is becoming overwhelming and I want to walk out of here and leave forever. The only thing keeping me here, currently, is knowing that my salary is what pays for my apartment, and therefore my bedroom, and therefore my bed. I can't be homeless with a memory foam mattress. It will get stolen and full of dirt.

It points out things I already knew about myself too, like the fact that I don’t think I could be with anyone who is more structured (neurotic) that I am. I feel that I would not be able to tolerate that sort of person. At the same time, it would be sooooo relieving to not be the Planner for, like, one occasion. I shouldn’t complain though, because he is the Snack Sharer, the Ride Giver, the Couch Warmer, the Heavy Stuff Lifter, the Keeper of Hulu Passwords, the Chill Maintainer, the Possibilities Explorer, the Errand Runner. Then there's me. The Crier.