  If it wasnt the last night that Amys in town, I definitely wouldnt be leaving the house. A fun afternoon after watching a b-ball tourney and again at Bryans house for a burgroid, and I still drive home with the sinking low of depression. I just want to shut the doors and go back to sleep in hope that Ill wake up feeling a bit more enthused. But it doesnt happen. Slept 13 hours last night, and that was after a 3 hour nap in the middle of the day. Yes, followed by a 12 hour sleep the night before.
Its not as if Im catching up for anything. Just a bunch of stress. Trying to fend off the imaginary army coming to conquer my giving a shit. Losing my best friend tomorrow. Tonight actually. She leaves at 4am Sunday.
For 6mo, but it feels like its going to be longer than I can imagine. Must be the additional loss I cant conceptualise. Im like her shadow on the weekends, social calendar mirroring whatever plans she may have made during the week. Weekends. My only time out, it seems. Having anything to actually do during the week provides me with a valid excuse for not coming out to play.
But now? Im sad there will be one less at my condo warming party. And one less option for a housemate. Shes the only one I talk to about all the stupid shit I do, all the horrible nightmares Im plagued with, the darkness that I wake up with and work to forget through the course of the day. Life /is/ loss. Even when it allows for new and better things to appear, it sucks and I hate adjusting.
Hyper-vigilance failed me this week. Usually so aware of my environment. Kitty sneaking into my room in the dark, me not knowing. Fell asleep only to find a screen in the room pushed out by sweet Forward. A cat lost to the wilderness that surrounds my aunts house. Desperate self-loathing for my mistake.
My lack of knowing. Even though the other cat scratched the shit out of me the day before when it slunk through the cracked door and I caught it from hiding under the bed indefinitely. Aching back and hamstrings from walking the neighbourhood and driveway of an unknown grade. Hitting myself in the head in desperation, trying in vain to punish myself adequately. But I found a way to get back at myself. Alienated someone I respect (mostly) with a drunken email revealing a crush I have on her.
Poor woman. I knew I was indulging a bit more than I needed to with details of my no-longer-private longings. Poor woman. 50% self-gratification for entertaining lustful imaginings good enough to get me through a rough day, 50% self-destructive tendencies to make myself cower in guilt the next day for my expositions. 100% achievement. Guilt like mad.
Heavily weighted spirits, a thin veil of functionality to cover the underlying cry of surrender to defeat. Even the best of times is mired by a crushing sense of bleak futility to drive me home. Sleep is my refuge. More time is spent asleep than awake. 13hours a night plus naps. And Im still tired.
cant sleep without help. Sleep at all, and I cant get enough. Thank god for sleeping pills. Accelerated occurrences of nightmares. Things so traumatic, I wake up in a sweat crying out loud. Things so realistic, it takes me time to sort out what actually happened the day before and what didnt.
crying with grief over the dead bodies I walk through, crying with frustration for the body I cant use anymore, crying with the sting of rejection of the women I fall for, and hurting myself bloody images Id rather not recount in case they come back into my consciousness tonight. I want to sleep some more, but I want more to spend more time with Amy before I lose her. Not that shes going to be incommunicado, but she will be in Barbedos. Its not a days drive away or anything. Shes good. I love her.
She needs this, and I couldnt be happier for her save for how much I need her around me. 
