Home » Bad Day » it’s never really gone

it’s never really gone

dunno… ever since I went all-in with composing things just seemed to be… fantastic. I loved what I was doing. I was getting so much love and support from the people close to me. there were a few blissful days when everything just felt right, and I was genuinely happy. like not 100% happy 100% of the time, I still felt the full range of human emotions. I still got frustrated, and doubted myself, and felt guilty about composing while other people (e.g. Fox) work soul-crushing jobs to put food on the table… but for once when people asked how I was I could honestly say that my life is good.

for once I wanted to talk about my life. and people seemed to enjoy watching my face light up when I did so.

and every day I’ve been loving my husband more and more, appreciating him more and more. (especially since he’s being so super supportive!) we went away last Friday to celebrate our five-year wedding anniversary, just a night at a bed and breakfast, and it was wonderful. tbh we hadn’t been sleeping together – in either sense – for quite a long time, and we both wanted to change that. well, it seems all we really needed to do for the more entertaining interpretation of that phrase was spend some time cuddling in a comfortable bed with the intention of being close. no distractions. no technology. just our love for each other. it was amazing!

we had gaming on Sunday, which was awesome and fun [and interestingly enough involved one of the other player characters (PCs) getting married. among other things, my character coordinated with a third PC and some intelligent animals to incapacitate mercenaries who had stolen dishes and kidnapped part of the catering staff. I had a blast sneaking around, shooting arrows past the mercenaries’ ears, throwing things to mislead them regarding my location, and scaring the pants off one of them – ironically enough, while naked (to make better use of my character’s camouflage mutation). then some intelligent flying squirrels volunteered to serve food at the wedding, and somehow most people were okay with that…] gaming went on for a long time though, with kibitzing afterward, so by the time Fox convinced me to get off Discord and go to bed I was completely emotionally exhausted. like ready to cry exhausted.

and, well, I’ve been emotionally exhausted ever since. I was able to get a good amount of composing/orchestrating done Monday and Tuesday, and I registered for the next music theory course I need. I haven’t gotten around to asking the program coordinator about composition lessons (basically, which section should I choose?) though… been kinda discouraged by his lack of prompt response to my emails.

I knew someone was coming to check the smoke/carbon monoxide detectors on Thursday, but I put off cleaning in preparation for it until Wednesday evening (I was too anxious to clean by myself, so I played video games instead). when Fox came home from work I asked him to help me. together we spent the next several hours inhaling dust and transforming the apartment from a cluttered wreck into a cluttered apartment with considerably more open floor space (and ostensibly less dust). it was overwhelming, but he was awesome about encouraging me. I’m so blessed to have him in my life!

let’s see… in addition to the stress of cleaning I now have Ron wanting me to take a central (paid!) role in zir campaign – which is kinda awesome but I don’t know how I’m gonna juggle it with everything else I’m doing and it runs the risk of me getting caught up in some of zir personal & political drama that I think it will be better for everyone involved if I stay away from… and I kinda want to not deal with politics ever much less be personally involved in a campaign… and ironically enough if I’m paid too much it could interfere with my health insurance! I’ve been feeling kinda uninspired by what I’ve been doing for the EP (unpaid), but at the same time a bit stressed by the prospect of changing my role in it (to something that could be more fun but also more work, and would still be unpaid). and overly-complicated efforts to coordinate with Fox’s family for Thanksgiving (it doesn’t help that they remind my mother of her not-so-awesome inlaws, whom we haven’t spoken to in years)… omg I love our family but they drive me crazy – literally.

in the middle of all this I haven’t been eating enough, nor well, mostly due to lack of convenient healthy food in the house (I want to cook, really, I just… don’t). I’ve also admittedly been isolating, particularly by staying inside & on the computer most of the time (composing!). I’ve had several nights in a row of insufficient sleep (including Friday night) and I’m pretty sure I’m sick…

and then yesterday happened. I gave up on my last-minute cleaning because I just couldn’t deal with the dust (and having to get up to put yet another single sock in the hamper) anymore. I started making ramen and lo, the inspector arrives, accompanied by Mom. he checks in here first – no biggie – then the rest of the house, gives Mom some feedback, leaves… and I sit here with my ramen just knowing my mother’s gonna wanna talk to me… sure enough… apparently ramen (the little packets you can get for like $.25) is poison. so as I’m eating my first food of the day at like 2pm I’m being told I’m poisoning myself, fantastic. then she starts with “this is your home…” to which I go “don’t lecture me” and, well, I guess I can’t blame her for not liking that. but after what I’d done Wednesday night I just didn’t want to hear it. she touched on a couple things, went on and on about exercises she’s already shown & described several times (honestly I’m glad she’s so into her health now, it really seems to be good for her, I just… I’ll ask if I want a refresher, and maybe my needs as a 30-something-year-old are different from hers as a 60-something?), and she cleaned something off my floor – gods I hate it when she does that and she knows I hate it but she does it anyway.

she agrees to email Fox’s mom about Thanksgiving and leaves, finally. I finish what I can of my (now cold) poison ramen. [oh! on a related note apparently I’m not allowed to order groceries online and pay someone to deliver them to me, I’m supposed to give her my shopping list, that’ll go well.] I turn back to the thing I’m supposed to be doing for the EP and just… can’t. I couldn’t. I could not bring myself to focus on it, no motivation to do it (other than not wanting to deal with drama), nothing. I knew I should’ve composed but even that, I felt horrible enough I was afraid I might get… “frustrated” isn’t the right word, maybe “discouraged”? maybe something in between – an angrier and more despondent discouraged – I dunno, I’m babbling, sorry – anyway I was afraid I might get whatever-the-word-is and eff- this is my blog if I want to say “fuck” I’ll say “fuck” – I was afraid I might fucking delete the whole thing!

so instead I played video games…

but, like, the wrong video game. not Slime Rancher with excellent soothing music and adorable affectionate slimes that I can spend maybe 5 minutes with and feel fantastic. Terraria, an intriguing but at times painfully repetitive game that I used to say makes me feel relaxed but it doesn’t, I tend to feel tense and numb. but I keep coming back to it so I can spend an eternity building tunnels. and killing hostile slimes.

and then Fox asked me to come pick him up, so I go to get him and omg wtf WHY IS THERE SNOW IN NOVEMBER?! Mom thinks I shouldn’t drive in it, but we can shovel our way out to the street and take her car. we’re like halfway there when we find out he was offered a ride by someone else. she turns around and like a house or two away from home almost skids into a parked car! we park safely. she wants to shovel the sidewalk. we commence – I focus mostly on the driveway because I need my car… well, today… I hate being a fucking adult because I have to shovel and I fucking hate the snow gods why must I hate the snow I hate that I hate the snow I used to love the snow when I was a kid I’d get to play in it and have fun and then come in and Grandma would make hot cocoa and I miss her and now I’m a grumpy adult fuck everything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fox has been sleeping on the futon (which I made into a couch for the fire inspection; it looks much better that way). he’s been expressing interest in joining me in the bed, which I really can’t blame him for, and decided to give it a try last night – in part because I said I’d rather keep the futon in couch form and he seems to agree. he wanted to go to bed before I was ready – I was just thinking I should eat something, actually – but I joined him because that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?

when I entered the room he was on the side of the bed I’ve gotten used to sleeping on. I joked that he tricked me into excavating the other side of the bed so he could steal my side, lay down, and let him hold me – not realizing how angry I was, wanting to focus on anything but the present. [I’ve noticed I tend to imagine scenarios/conversations and come up with scripts that I’ll run through over and over and over whenever I’m stressed. then get frustrated trying to multitask that and whatever’s going on around me – usually people I at least should want to interact with.] he said “I hoped cuddling would help you feel better” and I. felt. horrible. because I’d been intentionally ignoring it. omg how could I do that he was being so nice to me and I was just… ugh!

I finally told him I needed to eat, went to the kitchen, saw that he’d left out an empty container from leftovers, lost my shit. AFTER ALL THE WORK WE DID TO CLEAN, HOW COULD YOU LEAVE THINGS OUT? THE SINK IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE!!!!!!!!! of course I didn’t actually say that, I just threw the items violently into the sink. I don’t think I’ve thrown stuff in anger like that in years. I ate something convenient (but probably not particularly nutritious), fuming on the couch. then I went back to bed and tried to sleep.

that never works for me. the only way I’ve been able to sleep is when I stay up until I’m falling over. then I basically lie down and pass out. I was – still am – so fucking tired… but I just couldn’t. especially once he started snoring. I think I might’ve dozed for a while, then woke up overheating. my leg fell off the bed in my efforts to extract it from the covers. I couldn’t move too much for fear of disturbing him… gods I hate sharing a bed, I don’t think I’ve ever had a good experience doing it, why in all the world would anyone think that’s a good idea?

after lying for a while feeling miserable and indecisive, I finally grabbed my pillows and huffed into the living room. made the futon back into a bed. lay down with the overhead light on. found a position that wasn’t horribly uncomfortable. couldn’t cry, couldn’t sleep. then I realized I was feeling desperate. I’d been thinking things like “I hate my life” for a few days, trying to convince myself that’s not true I’m just unhappy with this aspect of my life. but things were escalating quickly into thoughts that could be described as suicidal. there’s so much good in my life, I really want to keep living, I mean I’ve finally figured out what I want to do and I’m doing it and it’s amazing!!! I can’t quit now!!! but I was so tired I just wanted to be unconscious, and kinda feeling like I’d do anything to be unconscious. I used to feel that way when I got insomnia in college.

I feel like I’ve been displaced. this was my apartment, that was my bed, that was my side of the bed, but he’s claimed it as his. he decided when we were going to sleep. he filled the whole room and invaded my ears with his snoring. (I don’t snore. 😛 but if I did, I would be just as loud.) and I… I mean I gotta talk to him about the side of the bed thing, it really upset me, if I don’t say something I’m hurting myself. and the last thing either of us needs is for me to become resentful over something we might easily be able to come to an agreement on. as for the noise I suppose I could use earplugs. I just don’t want to have to wear them every night, they’re rather uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do about the moving around thing, he might just have to learn to sleep with my limbs randomly flopped all over him, possibly even in his face. or maybe I could just take up like 70% of the bed until he decides he doesn’t want to sleep with me. 😛

a little voice in the back of my mind has been saying for a long time that I should be the one sleeping in here, on the futon. especially with the composing, I could stay up to all hours of the night composing with the door closed and not bother him, then just crash when I’m done for the night. I’ve imagined my someday music studio having a bed of some description for exactly that purpose. (I seem to feel the most creative at night.) but I just… the futon is not comfortable, and it’s not my bed. I want the big comfy bed with the memory foam mattress pad that’s probably molded to my favorite sleeping position. where I can make a little nest and turn myself into a blanket burrito or sprawl with one or both legs out or cast off the covers entirely without him stealing them! and roll over without… let’s just say imo the futon isn’t as well-padded, nor as well-balanced, as it should be.

so now what? this space is too small for the both of us. we need at least one more room. and as much as I love my mom, and had been thinking I actually like living with her, I just can’t deal with days like yesterday. I don’t even know where to begin trying to explain to her that what she did is problematic for me and why – I mean I’ve been telling her for years and she keeps doing it anyway! the best solution I can think of would be to move – I’d say to swap apartments, but with all our crap it would be a huge hassle and she could still do the annoying things she does and then Fox would complain about the extra stairs. but we can’t afford housing in this area – no one can, honestly – and I’d rather not move until we know where we want to settle down. and I like this space (well, aside from all the clutter). I want to find a way to make it work. even if it means wearing earplugs and/or keeping an air mattress in the living/computer/game/music room.

I mean the clutter sucks but that’s something we’re gonna have to deal with regardless. maybe more storage space would help, but there will always be more stuff. we need to learn to throw out our trash, wash our dishes, put our socks in the hamper, find homes for things and Put Them Back! – you know, all the stuff folks try to teach their kids but somehow that didn’t work for either of us. I feel like I need someone to come in and organize for me and give me a strict set of rules, ideally an example to follow. NOT family, I’ll want to murder them. just, I dunno, something, anything.

the clutter and the money are the two things that really seem to trigger me – money especially. I guess I can mitigate the money issue in the short term by taking the job Ron’s offered me (and making sure I’m actually paid). if I tell zir my concerns we can work out healthy boundaries – hopefully. dunno how reasonable it is to hope the EP will become profitable soon. among other things they’ve learned that YouTube is (allegedly) making it harder for small channels to grow quickly and profit from monetization… which has had a negative impact on the EP. it’s also another blow to my hope for the near-ish future because I’d planned to use YouTube as a primary revenue generator – at least until folks start hiring me. (which on the plus side I still have 2 upcoming gigs, possibly January-ish and March, at least the latter of which should be paid). and then I can link to both projects as examples of people actually using my work, hopefully to mutual benefit… so, yay, professional composer…

as for the clutter… well, I guess I could try Clutterers Anonymous, maybe even get Fox to join me. I’m a bit wary of 12-step programs and their focus on a “higher power” – but I’ve already said I’m willing to try anything.

(by the way, Fox came in as I was writing the above so I let him read the whole piece. we talked about the bed thing and agreed to essentially be flexible about who sleeps where and when: sometimes sharing the bed, sometimes one or the other of us sleeping on the futon. ❤ )

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