Welp, I got Greg mad as hell by sending him a story about a NFL player that protests during the anthem. He had said most of those guys didn’t even know why they were protesting- this guy explained why he was doing it. All it did was make Greg pissed. I won’t mention that shit again- ever. His wbc is up to 4.1 today, which is great. He only has to be at 3.5 to go home. He said he’s going home Monday. I really need to stop worrying about him. If he was interested in me, he’d treat me better than he does, cancer or not, I think. He never texts me first or ever asks how my day was or what I’m doing. He never asks anything about me at all, really. He doesn’t act at all like he did back in April when he was blowing up my phone every day. I’m thinking about moving when my lease is up here. I don’t really like this place- there are no windows on the front and you have to keep the garbage cans in the front yard and the whole front yard is a parking lot. It’s $1000 a month, I have 3 bathrooms for one person, and I think I could find a cheaper place. I found a few that I am interested in. I am going to see one tomorrow. AND, this guy I’m renting from is a weirdo. He’s creepy, pervy. He did drop the rent by $250 when I said I was going to move to a cheaper place, so that was good, but this is still too much to pay. I hate myself for buying that bed. I shouldn’t have done that. That was my mother that made me do that. I did it and she doesn’t even stay here. I was going to stay here until school was out because I was hoping I’d be moving to Corbin then, but I don’t see that happening. Greg shows no interest in me. Really none. I’m getting tired of chasing after him. Real tired of it. I don’t want to buy a house, not that I have the money to buy one, anyway, but I don’t want one. I bought flea medicine for John and Sophie at Walmart this morning- I think it is working- John doesn’t seem to be scratching as much as he was. I have been cleaning all day- it’s 12:44. I haven’t even started on Sophie’s bathroom. It’s a disaster. I dread it. I got most of downstairs done. I still need to dust the bookshelves. I am not going to say anything to Greg about coming to Corbin. If he doesn’t ask me, I won’t fucking go. I tried and I guess I’m just not anything anyone would want. I never say the right thing. I don’t know how to be fun and cute. I’m boring. I don’t know how to be normal.
Just Keep Swimming
I am a 48 year old adult child of an alcoholic. My childhood could have been a Lifetime movie. I am dealing with PTSD, anxiety, and severe depression as a result. I am working on gaining an understanding as to what this means and learning how to be okay with myself. Some days, just killing myself and being done with it seems like the most sensible option. On those days, I keep telling myself, "just keep breathing in and out, that's enough for today."