i never understood the concept of crying yourself to sleep. well, sort of, i guess. i’ve cried myself to sleep many times. but more often than not, i cry myself awake. it something about the tears and the way my heart pounds that causes my adrenaline to rush. then i’m wide awake with my wet, puffy face and my tired eyes.
i’ve been crying myself awake a lot this past week. it’s something about when i turn off the lights and i can’t keep my thoughts at bay. when i’m lying in my big bed all alone that i can’t keep the thoughts from coming. and then i cry. and the more i cry, the less i can sleep.
i’m exhausted. this past five weeks hasn’t been a picnic. between real work and the bowling alley, i haven’t had a spare five minutes to myself. my apartment’s a mess, i don’t have any clean plates, i balanced my checkbook for the first time since i got back from memphis friday night at midnight (it wasn’t all bad, when you are so busy you don’t find all that much time to spend money).
my defenses have been weakened. my shoulders are in knots. the too much to do has left me feeling down and lonely. ironic, not enough alone time has left me feeling lonelier than i have in eons. my phone hasn’t rang in a week. i check my e-mail compulsively to see if anyone cares. the silence is deafening.
i’ll be 31 in 81 days. i feel likve i’ve become a woman who chose a career over love and a family. even though i never really had a choice– love was never an option. i’ve made the decision to buy a house. to save up this next ear and in march 2004 i will buy my own house. i will buy it myself and while most of me wants to burst with pride, part of me feels like i’m surrendering. admitting defeat– that i can’t build a home with somone, so i have to do it on my own.
and, yes, i realize a lot of this is just black sunday self-pity and in the bright, warm light of tomorrow (here in minnesota we’ve had a temperature fluctuation of 78 degrees in the last six days and if that doesn’t make you a little loony, nothing will) i will be ok. but tonight i give in to the blackness and the mean reds. the fear and the anger and the frustration. i just want to know, when will i be loved?