What. The. Actual. Hell. I was fine. I wasn’t even paying attention to it. Robert has some music playing quietly in the background because he likes some noise when he sleeps. I’m just here reading random crap online with zero point behind it hoping that I’ll be able to get some sleep myself soon as the past few days have been really hard on me in that regard. I’m not feeling particularly depressed or anything, mostly just really tired, and I just start crying. I know it’s the song that started playing and I know what I was feeling while it was going on. I just don’t know what triggered it exactly. As I said: Just tired. Just reading. Just crying? And as quickly as it came, it vanished again. I can’t really be that easily manipulated by music, can I?
Saw my podiatrist. Foot is healing but not healed. She still doesn’t want me walking on it. Gave me a new, less obtrusive shoe to replace the boot for now. I told her about the blisters and she cleaned them and gave me some supplies to keep up on them. The new shoe is because of the blisters and she wants to see me again in two weeks. I think I’m actually going in on the 19th to be specific. I really can’t blame her because the one on the bottom of my foot is rather nasty looking. I gather the boot will be returning after they heal enough.
Made a bunch of other appointments. Optometrist is tomorrow. Primary care is the 30th. Dentist is in early May. Still need to get that referral for my wisdom teeth done now that my insurance should be sorted. Chiropractor is still on hold until my foot heals more. Not much reason to go since it’s for my back and I’m still not supposed to be walking so… I was really hoping I’d be able to start exercising again. I’m guessing summer by this point. At least I still seem to be loosing weight. Well, fluctuating down I should say. Overall lower numbers are good either way.
Oh good. Another emotionally manipulative song just came on. I think I’m going to be able to sleep here soon. Starting to have trouble typing. When I have to keep going over words because I’m misspelling them over and over or have to pause for a second because I can’t remember how to spell them at all in the first place–. Once, in third grade, I forgot how to spell the word “of”. I actually had to ask the teacher because I kept spelling it “ove” and I knew something was wrong with that but couldn’t figure out just what.
Thirty-some-odd-years later that’s still a vivid memory for me. I wonder why that is. Why would I remember something so insignificant with such clarity and yet forget so many other much more important things. I can remember misspelling a two-letter word when I was nine but I can’t remember my own father’s face, his voice, smell, touch. I can see the shadow but it’s so far away. Was it ever even real to begin with? It’s running from me. Or am I running from it?
…
Where the hell is this coming from?
I don’t think I’m safe right now.