Just thoughts over 4:30am coffee...

Regardless of the relationship type, some people just don't stay with you.
It could be as simple as geographical location. It could be that life gets too busy to maintain. It could be a difference of opinion, beliefs, lifestyle, too vast to conquer. Or it could be that they're just not made of the "sticky stuff" that holds people together.

I'm not made of that sticky stuff, either. I've let so many people go over the last 20 years, it's astounding. Some I'm sad about, or regret. Some I am overjoyed to have loosed them. And some I simply feel nothing for. Some are like an old coffee mug in the back of your cupboard, so unused, unfamiliar, so nondescript, that you don't even remember it was there.
And perhaps that's the strangest thing; the non-feeling. Because, don't you usually feel something for the people who've not just crossed your path, but spent some time taking up space in your life?
Who knows.

My "mortality anxiety" (that's what I call it) has seemingly resurfaced. After months (nearly a year) of being free from it.. (Well, not quite free, perhaps just better at coping).. I know that it's running free again once I start dreaming about it. Dreaming about my death, the death of my children, of the (few) people I love. Dreaming about what comes after, if anything. I hope that something does, but I tend to believe that there is nothing. The more I think, dream, obsess, the more fearfully I live.
It's uncomfortable and annoying, to say the least.

Someone said to me the other day- Do you have so few friends, have you become so accustomed to being alone, that you talk to yourself all the time? Have you always talked to yourself this much?
I laughed and said- I asked my therapist about it, and she said I'm not crazy, so it must be okay.
I've just got to try to stop doing it so much in public (grocery shopping, banking, any outing, really, etc); because it certainly makes me look crazy.

The last couple weeks, my son and a few of my customers have asked me why I'm so "stressed out". My son is particularly keen to my moods, so I expect that from him. But I've always tried very hard to cope while working, and I usually succeed. Evidently I am failing as of late; I will try harder.
I have noticed it myself, though, too.
The agitation that is supposedly part of my "condition" has been at a much higher level. I am being snarky even as I write that, but it's no joke. And people just don't get it.

It's not some kind of "bad mood" that you can just get over or deal with. It's not just a matter of putting on your happy face and playing pretend. Check your baggage at the door. That's what normal people do. It's not like that. It's not like that at all.
I cringe when I hear my name called. I can't stand the sound of other people talking. Just a touch startles and irritates me. Sensations are elevated. The slightest mishap (an unexpected noise or touch, any kind of mistake, a misunderstanding, any sign of any kind of conflict... anything) sends me into a fit of internal fury.
Living with this makes everything difficult, if not intolerable. Shopping, going to soccer games, working, being around people at all... And it's not even just in public. At home I am so frustrated and impatient all the time, with everything. Some days I can't cook a meal or do the dishes without throwing a fit.
So when you see me, and I seem irritated or angry or "stressed out", please know that I am doing my goddamn best. This is me coping. I am "dealing with it". This is my happy face. This is me pretending to be just fine, like most people do. But it's not like most people. Not at all. It is a constant battle.

Add to all of this, a re-evaluation of sorts, as of late... Considering my life and the direction it's going. The feeling that I am just skating along, but knowing I need to make it something more. Do something. Relationships, education, work (insert life change here), something... I feel a change coming on. I need it. Am I being manic? No, I think not. Something, or some things, need to change in my life.

It's now 14 hours later, and I'm just coming back to this blog. I started it as the sun rose, and am finishing it as the sun sets. Not planned, just so happened that way.

I got through doing dishes today without throwing a fit. That was last night. When I was trying to make a milkshake, and ended up with milk and ice cream all over the kitchen, and a blender that was forcefully (if not a bit dramatically) launched into the trash.
I picked it out today. Fixed it.
Got through the dishes.
Didn't bite anyone's head off in public.
Didn't eat any small children.
Today was a good day.