I’m not okay.
Had plans with a friend to get coffee before I went to my kung fu class. I spent 3 hours Monday night listening to her while she was having a rough time, but she didn’t show up and didn’t bother calling or texting to say she couldn’t make it. I guess that shows how much I matter: only when I’m useful.
I was so exhausted and depressed that I couldn’t make myself go to kung fu after that, even though I knew it would make me feel better. Instead I put Winston in the crate (bad puppy mom) and took a nap.
Naturally, I had a nightmare.
It was about being homeless. It’s something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, what with my grandfather demanding progress (a term he won’t define) and Paul Ryan wanting to gut Social Security and Medicare. (I know it’s stupid to be so affected by politics, but I am.) In my dream my mother and grandfather kicked me out. My youngest sister was trying to help by hiding me in her bedroom, but my mother found me. She hit me over and over and then shoved me out the door. It was freezing cold with deep snow, and this time I didn’t even have a car to live in.
I woke up with an intense urge to get a kitchen knife, stab it all the way through my forearm (between the radius and ulna), and jerk it around. This is not a new image/urge, but it’s been more than a year since it last popped up.
I’ve spent the last hour debating whether to call my team leader. She wouldn’t mind me calling, but I feel like it wouldn’t help, so I shouldn’t bother her. What I want is for someone to convince me everything will be okay, burnout one can do that. Lacking that, all the support I have just seems useless.