elfination

Play the song “Bend and break” by Keane right after playing the song “I’ve Been Waiting” by Matthew Sweet.

The pathology here is that my brain will conjure up every memory of every wonderful thing about first meeting Barrett (given the Matthew Sweet song), and then completely squash it with the Keane song, realizing he’ll never be there in the morning for me, ever again. This will cause a sudden collapse of all pieces of my psyche into a microsingularity.

Or, at least, I really wish it would, because this hurts so fucking bad.

Bend and Break:

When you, when you forget your name
When old faces all look the same
Meet me in the morning when you wake up
Meet me in the morning then you’ll wake up
If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

Lovesick bitter and hardened heart
Aching waiting for night waiting for life to start
Meet me in the morning when you wake up
Meet me in the morning then you’ll wake up

If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

If only I don’t bend and break
I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

I’ll meet you on the other side, I’ll meet you in the light
If only I don’t suffocate, I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

Especially when what you WANT to focus on isn’t what’s presenting as a more emergent problem.

I’m completely exhausted… I’ve had very little sleep lately, an organic chemistry exam on Thursday at 4pm, and I have had to move out of Barrett’s apartment and into a room on campus.

The upside is that my housing is now walking distance from classes. There are actually a lot of up-sides.

The major downside is that my change in environment is because Barrett’s had enough of me.

So… I moved, and am wracked with anxiety about all sorts of things (both rational and irrational). KB cannot live with me here. Lots of stuff is still at Barrett’s apartment. Barrett doesn’t call me “Sweetie” or “Elfy” anymore, he calls me “Emily”. When we talk at all. I’m within five miles of him and only seeing him briefly to let me into the apartment to get more of my stuff.

I’m a disaster… and it’s REALLY hard to focus on what NEEDS to be done for school.

On the plus side, I have plenty of psychotropic prescription drugs. I’m on an antidepressant which is working very well (until about 10PM when it starts to wear off…. ) I take adderall (YAY!) and Buspar (an anti-anxiety drug). The Adderall and Buspar are doing good things for me, though I’m still prone to randomly crying at stray thoughts.

I’m back to doing the “college thing”, but without the comfort/security of a permanent address to return to in the summer, and without family that I can return to if I choose. The only family I have in Alabama is Barrett… and he’s removing himself from that status. I’m alone here, lost as hell, and all I can do is hope I can focus enough to NOT THINK ABOUT IT.

I’m going to take a hot shower and get some sleep.

So I was at work, doing my thing, selling pet food. A very familiar-looking woman came up to me. “EMILY!! HI!! How are you!?!” I smiled brightly. “Doing great, how are you doing?” She smiled too, clearly thrilled to see me.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said, “But… where do I know you from?”

“JAIL!” she squealed REALLY LOUD, laughing.

One of the cashiers was walking past. “Jail, really?” he said, looking at us both.

*facepalm* Okay, great. How about next time we broadcast it over the store’s loudspeakers? Even better.

Fuckin’ EH.

The rest of the day has been pretty much consistent fail no matter what. I may be on antidepressants, but some days I just sincerely wish I owned a gun. It started with horrible dreams last night (about Barrett, his mom, me being a throw-away person… so much anguish and betrayal and abandonment all rolled up into one heart-wrenching dream sequence…) I got to work and did my best but it all started coming back to me… I took a few minutes to sit in the breakroom and cry from all the hurt that my own brain could inflict on me. Hurt that doesn’t really seem THAT far off, actually.

Then add Christy’s super-loud proclamation to the world… (She was totally too loud when I knew her before, too, she got on every last nerve in my body…) That’s just fucking great. I feel like hell, and it’s barely 5pm. And I have homework to do.

I’m going to try to study.

Barrett feels used, taken for granted. “I’m nothing but a paycheck to you,” he said.

I guess that makes me a high-priced whore.

I’ll add it to my resume.

And yeah, he called a lawyer two weeks ago.

You’re welcome, Karen. I know you’ve been pushing for this lately.