the last time i wrote anything was almost 2 weeks ago. i feel the effects of that, it is palpable in my mood, in my thought process in my emotional regulation, in my routine, in everything.
i have to commit to daily writing again. even if i have nothing to say. i need to do it for my own well being before i deteriorate further.
a lot has happened in these last 2 weeks. a lot of things which have really twisted and bent my soul into new and uncomfortable shapes. it’s hard to focus on the things which are going right currently because of that, there is so much negativity, it is overwhelming.
k has moved out, that happened on feb 14, of all days. i am bitter about that. additionally, there was no plan for anyone else to help, so i was the singular source of muscle in this operation. the day left me broken physically, mentally and emotionally.
the following day i started rebuilding my environment, first things first, couch delivery and assembly. i was hoping for some kind of help, some kind of moral support, some kind of emotional companionship in this. i had mentioned that to a, but instead of getting anything of the sort, i was left on read all day only be to prompted with a “how was your day?” in the evening. perhaps it was not fair for me to expect anything more, but i did anyways and i was left even more broken than the day before.
k, on her end, was not fairing much better. although she did have c and k, j and n all come to her side and help her, it was not enough to compensate for the overwhelming disaster which was to ensue. it started with a leaky bathtub (which i fixed for her) and continued with a leaky bathroom window followed by a leaky kitchen window which then lead to a leaky basement with water under the floor and culminated with a leaky ceiling in an upstairs bedroom. all within 72 hours. suffice it to say, this is what they would call a “vis cache” here in quebec, or a hidden defect the sellers tried to sneak past everyone… regardless of that though, after calling the insurance and having disaster crews come by, she is left with a half torn apart house, drywall and flooring ripped up, fans, dehumidifiers, mold inhibitor chemicals… all things which make living in that home a challenge. returning it to a livable state will cost tens of thousands which her insurance is likely to deny her, and will require her to hire a lawyer to go after the seller for. in the meantime… she can’t have the kids of cats at her place.
and of course, as you may have been able to guess, this was indirectly blamed on me. “i only bought this house because it was available and knew you wanted me out of your hair as soon as possible” is a statement that when said to me fucking stabbed me right through my heart. the guilt, the shame, the regret, everything that washed over me in that moment was, and continues to be unbearable. but bear it i must.
adjacent to all of this, last night i had a long talk with a about things. it’s nothing good at this point. seems like i bring undesirable feelings there too.
everywhere i turn lately, i am a disappointment, i am a loser, i am a problem, i am a burden. it’s funny how sometimes when you feel like you have hit the bottom and will start inevitably rising back up, you then discover there are even further depths to which you can sink.