Saturday Morning Blues

It's after midnight here and I'm feeling incredibly old as I sit in the glow of my computer screen.

Got bad news today. Devastating news. News that just turned my world on its ear and news that hurt a great deal more than I was prepared for.

I spent the day in shock, putting on a face for friends and trying to salvage something out of the day, but really I'm sitting here alone and just not doing that great as I write this.

No one is dying.

No one is sick.

No one is fired or anything like that.

It should be good news, but it isn't, it's devastating. It's horrible. It means change and I'm not ready for it. It means giving up three years of emotions and dreams and everything that goes with them.

I thought I was okay at first. I really did. I thought I'd be cool about it, and I'm sure I will be cool about it after the shock wears off, then 8 hours later I started to think of all the changes and I nearly lost it.

14 hours later now and I'm a mess. I have no energy. I feel like I'm a million years old, and as strange as it sounds, I look that way as well. Thank god no one is near with a camera for this is one weekend I want to forget. I know I never will and that really is messing with me now.

I hate myself for feeling this way. I hate myself for not being happy about it. I hate the feelings I have right now and I hate that most of my friends are away so I can't vent. So I sit here and I wonder and I hope and I'm going to put my usual smile back on tomorrow and pretend that this isn't hurting me as bad as it is. I have to be strong and I have to be strong for someone during this and afterwards. It's something I dreaded, it's something I had nightmares about, but it's here and I'm dealing. Sure. Really. I am.

It's good news.

It's a dream come true.

I should be happy.

Then why do I feel so bad?

k9

Hours Later

It's now officially morning. I've been awake for about 14 and a half minutes. My day started with the doorbell going off. The doorbell is our emergency alarm for my dad. He wears a ringer around his neck just in case he needs help. When he presses it the entire house shakes as the doorbell rings, our insane dogs in the kitchen hear it and start barking their heads off (a sound that is best described as one of Dante's levels of hell in itself), and whomever is upstairs drops whatever they're doing and runs downstairs to help out.

This morning I was semiconscious. I was having a dream about taking a train. I hadn't yet gotten on the train but I had finally figured out where I was going when ... DING DONG ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF DING DONG ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF. I'm up, I'm up, I remember what side of the bed to get out of (unlike last week when I gave myself a black eye by smacking my head into the wall), and I fall out of bed. I look for some sweat pants to throw on, forget the socks, ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF. I'm up, I'm up, I'm running to my door, down the hall, around the corner and down the stairs and ... he's asleep. My mom is coming up the stairs. Oh my god, for the first time in months it's someone actually at our door.

This is when I stagger to the computer room and let her handle it. It turns out it was one of her friends wanting to drop something off or something. I then staggered into the computer room and started the day like every other day, turn on, sign on, now at work.

I'm still too asleep to do anything else.

k9

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