  Maybe Ill be able to sleep after I write about why Im having trouble drifting off. Ive been in bed for the last couple of hours, wide awake and worrying. Guilt-ridden is maybe more accurate. My mind wont stop searching for more and more reasons why the feeling should fit. Thinking about the department chairs upcoming return from China. How she has more news to tell me about the asshole professor I butted heads with months ago, worrying that maybe Im just an asshole myself and complained when it wasnt necessary.
Undermining my own credibility in my mind to reconstruct the scenario as something I should be ashamed of. Worrying that I dont have a job yet and my motivation is waning. That my search has been fruitless and maybe more telling than what Im allowing myself to see. Maybe no one will want me. Maybe Im still too young to be taken seriously? Worrying that I did close to nothing today.
Nothing important anyway. That Im wasting my life trying to avoid pain and conflict, rendering me lazy and useless. Worrying that my body is only going to hurt worse as the years pass, and that Im pretty much losing out on everything that used to matter to me because it hurts to leave the house. I thought of soccer, and I wanted to cry. So much of my identity and my spirituality (its hard to explain) were tied up in that game. I still have a test to take and a paper to write, and I havent done it yet.
And that other class I still need to take what if I dont do it? What if I cant pass? What if Ive waited too long to capture the proper motivation to complete school? What if my degree means nothing in the working world? Faces pop into my head, one after the other, paired with visions of how they must feel about me. An angry, troubled, needy, indulgent, weak, complaining, isolationist, irresponsible, vulnerable, frigid, fearful, overweight, has-been who cant find middle ground between arrogance and self-loathing.
Professors, friends, family, Leslie, Janice, strangers you name it, Ill find you a story that degrades me. All these flaws irreconcilable and keeping me from being loved. Failure. Guilt. Shame. All blended together in a parfait glass for dessert.
Tomorrow we meet to talk about Ritchies suicide. I realize thats bothering me. Other people in my life are struggling with self-destructive depression, and its a hard thing to witness. Maybe Im a bad friend on top of it all? Maybe Im not doing enough to be there for others, that Im contributing to this wounded world in a negative way by not doing enough to save people? Id pour myself a drink, but Im not too thrilled with the idea of adding alcohol to the mood.
Gasoline on the fire and all I will, however, pop open a beer anyway because I dont think Ill be able to sleep without it, and I know itll push the Elavil into activation and Ill get sleepy. Things that I try to remind myself? Exercises to off-set the above-mentioned troubles? Flossing. Been taking great care of my mouth. Yes, this is significant.
So is showering, shaving, and keeping my toes and feet painted and prettied. Sounds mundane, but it matters to me that I at least care for the fundamentals. Theyre the first things to lapse when shit starts sliding. No, shit isnt sliding. Its just appropriately difficult right now. School is ending without strong signs of a replacement identity in the workforce.
Thats stressful. Chris is getting married, and I feel like a square peg about the whole thing. My ankle still isnt well, and my back never will be. Its hard to be joyful with the pain I live with, the limitations that have been set. The cats my not being able to fix them, then paying for it tenfold. Its not surprising that Ive reverted to grilling myself in the middle of the night.
Im talented at the art of making myself feel bad; I have control when I create a sense of impending doom on my horizon. Many of these other things, I have no satisfactory sense of control over. Its all just vulnerability and fear. Mini self-therapy session complete. Ah ha! The job at Sur La Table, should I get it, will put me within walking distance of Claudias house!
Thats why the job hunt is so daunting to me today! Oh, Im going to need to talk about that another time And now, to create another fantasy-based scenario to dwell on as I try again to sleep (I can feel the Elavil kicking in after just half a beer). This time though, itll be something comforting to distract and derail my mind from the collision course its been on. Like Jodi Foster or swimming naked. What was that? Swimming naked with Jodi Foster?
Its a deal. Maybe Ill get lucky and have a saucy dream about something pretty. I need a vacation from the guilt. And Ill need a valium to handle the memorial tomorrow for Ritchie. 
