I told Cardo that I'm pretty certain I'll never be tired enough to fall asleep again. I was trying to stay away from computer and television screens after ten, in the hopes that my mind wouldn't be overly stimulated and that I might fall asleep at a decent hour, but here I am. I got up to address something I've been avoiding. I'm good at avoiding. I'm not good at decision-making.
And, speaking of decision-making, I'm in the midst of having to make some decisions about our immediate future. Nothing big, nothing to worry about. Except, of course, I worry. It's what I do. It's what I live for. (To help unfortunate merfolk, like yourself. [Yes, we've been watching too much The Little Mermaid around here and I've had that movie memorized for [[aak]] twenty-one years now, I believe it is.])
So, yes, I've been wondering if it's silly to want to turn to your parents for advice and support and possibly consolation when you're well past legal dependence? Because I really love Cardo and I value discussing things with him, but right now, I kind of also want to be able to talk with my parents...in person. A few of problems: I'm not sure I can articulate exactly what I'm feeling and I'm not sure what I'm expecting/wanting to receive from this hypothetical conversation. Also, they live about 450 miles away. We don't have the money to visit them (and I really don't want to go down for a visit at this time of year) and I don't want to ask them to take time off work to come and comfort me.
Ugh. I know I shouldn't analyze every little bit of my life, especially in the middle of the night. I know that this is part of the reason I don't sleep. I hope that when I wake up, I'll feel a bit more resolved about some things and I'll think, 'Jeez, v, stop posting worries in the middle of the dark.' But, it's what I do. It's kind of cathartic for me.
Ah, well.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
it's the middle of the night, and the anxiety is creeping in
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