A mighty shitty summer.

As usual.
I hate that summers have turned into disasters.  Just when things have settled into "might-be-good-again" again, they go off the deep end.
They fucking CRASH off the deep end.

But I need distractions and I need to feel things again.  Just things other than despair and numbness (can a person really *feel* numbness?  I mean...I know we can...it's a very familiar feeling.  But it's weird that we should be able to feel something that by its very definition means NOT feeling) and anger. I learned about derealization this week, and while I'm not to the point of hallucinating, this life has turned into something dreamlike (and not in a good way).  Like nothing is real.  Like I am completely removed and just floating through it, not mattering and making no difference and not caring. I watch this beautiful city race past me and I'm not doing a damned thing to take advantage of what it offers. And I don't care. I am too sad and I am too mad and I am too tired and I am too done.

I know I am nothing special to feel this way. Everyone gets burned out and everyone loses energy and zeal for life (neither of which I was very full of anyway!), and I don't claim to be a precious delicate flower because I feel like my ass is being kicked full-time.
I'm just so missing the things that make me whole.  My family.  My best friends who keep my sanity within reach. Their children who I love so much I can't even. Even my goddamned car in its color that I hate. A little box of solitude and loud poppy music that can take me five miles in ten minutes, THE WAY TRANSPORTATION IS INTENDED, rather than the hour it takes me here to do anything. I miss my computer and my bedroom and hugs.  I miss people smiling at work, chatting and having the occasional lunch together. I miss my compadres at MOSL and Brad and Amanda at VUHL. I knew it was nice to have friends at work, but I've always had friends at my various works, so I never knew how desolate it is to work in an entirely unfriendly environment.  Let me tell you, it s-u-c-k-s.  And I am not a small talker.  I cringe at the "Hey, how was your weekend?"s, the "Doing anything fun tonight?"s, the "Man, this week seems so long!"s...the small talk that permeates office spaces and elevators around the country. But I surprise myself at missing those daily check-ins.  Those smiling greetings that pull me out of my morning funk even just a little bit.

I think I rely on other people a LOT more than I ever realized. Now that I don't have much support, it is painfully obvious.

I get support sometimes, yes...I have a few kinda-friends here, and when things are calm at home I like being there.  But from 8:15-6:30 every weekday, there isn't a whisper of it.  And that is hard.  Not only is there not a trace, but I can't even be alone--I am constantly surrounded by aloofness and snobbery and disdainful glances at my non-standard body/attire and brusque strangers crowding on the train and snippy store clerks and always-occupied park benches and yelling everywhere.  So there's no haven to escape to, anywhere. No cube walls to cower behind, no out-of-the-way booth to hide at during lunch.


All right, enough of this. I came on to do a happier list post and just dumped all the hell over everything instead.


Good gravy!