I did not have a good start to my day. I was up every two hours last night, wide awake. A few times, I know it was the dogs, but I was hypervigilant almost to any unusual sound. This is the first time I have had a day like this since starting to take Seroquel at bedtime. I am hoping it is a fluke.
I had full intentions of waking up early (which I did, at 7:30), bouncing out of bed (I did not), drinking my allotted two cups of coffee (I did not, we are out of creamer), and getting ready to clean. Instead I woke up, yelled at the dogs for making so much noise, snapped at DSB about his use of TV all.night.long, and came and sat in my happy place.
I smoked a few cigarettes and realized that this just wasn’t going to cut it. I went and put a full tank of gas in my car and went to Sonic and picked up a Route 44 Cranberry Limade (easy on the ice, if you will). My day started to get a little better from here.
I talked to my Dad and vented about a few things. He listened and suggested basically that I just deal with it, that this is “HOW IT IS.” That wasn’t really the response I was hoping for, so I tried to talk to DSB for awhile. Although he managed eight hours of solid sleep, he is grump and tired, not really in the mood for conversation.
I realized at that moment, that I am seeking validation through others. I need to validate myself! I walked around and looked at all the good progress I have made. I checked my supplies and I think I have enough to finish the house, although I might be missing a couple of things. I finished wiping down walls, cabinets, the fridge, etc in the kitchen.
I sat down for a few minutes to try and regroup. I was almost back into the swing of things. I am owing that all to my Route 44 Cranberry Limeade (easy on the ice, if you please). I sat for a minute, smoked another cigarette, and then went back in, put away all the dishes I did yesterday, and washed everything else that was left.
Now, I’m back to sitting. I am getting ready to gear myself up for another room because the kitchen is basically done. The bathrooms are basically done, other than the floors. I think I am moving on to the living room next, which shouldn’t be too bad. I am going to take some plants outside, do some dusting, and leave the floors for later. Then I’ll move into the office, if DSB ever vacates it.
It gets above 80 degrees, and there is no getting him out of the house. I almost think it is a mental block with him, but he’s just gonna sit in his recliner and rot until there’s a cooler day, would be my guess.
This may be a bad thing to say, but I don’t want to end up like that. I don’t want to always find reasons to escape my daily duties or even to live life. I couldn’t do that. Oh, I don’t feel good, oh, my back hurts, oh, I’m dizzy. And then he tells me he is thinking about not going to his doctor’s appointment today. How much in denial can you possibly be?
So, I’m gonna smoke one for the road, and then I’m gonna hit the living room. I WILL complete this Re-Invention of myself and I WILL do it in a timely manner, even if it’s taken me two Klonopin to get here.