I wrote this up on my laptop around noon on Saturday. The day previous I had spent twenty-two hours driving to and from Tennessee.
I don’t know what it is with today but even within the first moments of waking up, I just felt… heavy.
It was just past eight thirty and I had made sure to at least get up and make sure my mom was awake as she an appointment at ten. But she was already gone when I found my dad downstairs tucked behind the dryer working on.
“I guess you washed a receipt or something and it gunked the entire thing up.”
Oh the freezer across from the dryer were balls of compressed paper about the size of… do you know/remember those little bouncy rubber balls? About seven or either balls of that size.
From a receipt? Even though I was certain I hadn’t washed anything paper in any of my recent loads with my compulsion of checking pockets and zipping zippers.
But it was automatically me and mind fault.
Just like when Mom decided to wash the portable burner and refuses to light now.
Quickly, I felt the feelings of worthlessness and depression sinking in.
Last night I had made plans as we were driving on the last stretch from Tennessee through Georgia to get on the ball. Get all my cleaning done, organize my sewing room again, and hit the library in the morning to do all research for fashion design programs.
But I just couldn’t even feel the point. The excitement, the desire that these things should have fueled me into. All I felt was weak, depressed and nothing was worth it.
Even talking felt like too much.
I tried to force through it.
Folding fabric, gathering scattered pattern tissue, tossing garbage but it just served to deepen my darkness.
I just tried sinking into mindless game play via Fall Out for a couple hours but here I am, typing away still enraptured in my dark thoughts.
My body is so tired and worn out. I didn’t take my prescription until almost midnight last night as I was doing the night driving. So, I don’t know if maybe this is just a chemical reaction in its entirety.
Maybe I should go on ahead and just force some sewing.
Even as I typed that I know it isn’t going to happen.
I don’t want to do anything.
I just want to sleep and fast forward past this day and these feelings.