It's a conundrum, isn't it? How the world could dislike me so thoroughly while simultaneously not giving a damn about my existence? And yet, this is the paradox of which I have convinced myself. Could it be that I'm just really depressed today, and I'm in an office full of people with whom I have little in common and therefore with whom I have a merely polite relationship? No, the first proposition seems so much more likely.
It's lunchtime. It's sunny and (relatively) warm. I know I should go out. But where to go? I am so thoroughly tired of midtown - everything is concrete and ugly and either I'm in someone's way or someone is in mine. I have my prescribed lunchtime meal, and I don't want to spend any money, and there's nowhere to sit out there because every office building within 20 blocks is also having lunch right now... and yet, when 1:30 rolls around and I haven't left my desk, all I'll be able to think is how I regret not having gotten up. Really, though , what I wish for is somewhere better to go.
Why this mood? Where did it come from? I don't really know. Reverberations of the past few weeks, I suppose. Things have finally calmed down enough that I can feel the waves of upset wash over me. The sadness, the frustration, the pure exhaustion of it all. And then, the nagging knowledge that this is just low tide; that when the moon comes back around it will all begin again, in one form or another.
I've been trying to get my mother on the phone. I need to tell her that she and my father should not visit this spring as they seem to be planning. I can't do it. That would be enough to push me right up over the edge. It would be different if they didn't hate it here, or if being around them in and of itself didn't make me require a few extra therapy sessions. It is not going to be a fun conversation. Trying to make it and not successfully making the connection - well, frustrating doesn't really begin to cover it. It' somewhere near infuriating, but without anger. If anyone knows the word for that, lemme know.
Tuesday was easy when I thought it would be hard. Wednesday was hard when I thought it would be easy. Today I am simply lost. On Monday I told Jonathan that I wanted to say I felt small, but that wasn't accurate - that really I felt shattered. I think that applies to today as well. Or maybe smashed, subtracting any connotations of intoxication.
Sometimes it's just too much.