Life sucks, and then, life sucks some more

I'm having a terrible time right now. I'm having one of those days when I realize how much life really does suck. Okay, I was already having one of those weeks. But I try to ignore it. I can't just say that life sucks and go back to bed. But, yes, life sucks.

Then there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I do not feel good a lot of the time, but I cannot just go around complaining about everything. It may be that I'm thinking some unpleasant thing every damn minute of every single day, but I cannot voice those thoughts. I would never get anything done. I cannot just go around the house screaming, "Why did any of this happen to me!" I am thinking that, but I cannot go around acting like I think that. The dishes have to be done, food has to been bought and cooked and eaten, laundry has to be done. I have to get out of bed every morning and take a bath. I have to brush my teeth and my hair and pretend I care what I look like before I give up and put my hair in a ponytail. Sometimes I go to the library and sometime I have errands to run. I do not have a job now, but there still always seems to be something that should be done, and if I stay in bed feeling sorry for myself or just stand around screaming about this and that, nothing that should be done would ever get done. Even the small things like washing dishes would not get done.

Screaming women should not wash dishes.

So I'm having one of those weeks. I know that life sucks, but I'm getting up and bathing and washing dishes, etc.... And then there are days that I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to get much past the bathing and the dishes will not get done. Still, even when I am thinking that, I'm thinking that I can't just go back to bed. I'm thinking that I will give an hour or so, and that after I've watched a bit of TV or done some other dumb thing that I will feel a little bit better and get on with things like dish washing and laundry.

An hour later I didn't feel that much better, but planned to put one foot in front of the other and somehow end up washing dishes.

Only then there were a bunch of phone calls, most of which turned out to be salespeople or wrong numbers. And one call that was not a wrong number. And then I had a really bad day after that.

The person means well, but I never have a good day after one of these phone calls.

Okay, the dishes did not get done, and the laundry did not get done, and I did not go to the library, etc....

I don't know how I can explain it in different way. Am I not speaking English? I am not over what happened, and I am probably not going to get over what happened, and just because I am not screaming at the top of my lungs or staying in bed feeling sorry for myself doesn't mean that feel normal again. I do not. I just don't see that I should have to remind everyone how I feel at every opportunity. I do not think that the neighbors need to hear about homewrecking-sluts. I do think that I need to at least give the appearance of someone who feels normal again, but I should be able to do this and still have a few people know that I am not feeling normal and not ask me questions like "What's wrong?" If I pretend I feel normal I can usually go about the business of washing dishes and watering the plants and such. I cannot do those things if I stay in bed all day. And I cannot do those things after people ask me "What's wrong?" even if they mean well.

Anyway, there was gnashing of teeth, etc....

Then I learned that someone knew more of my business that I chose to share. Someone read about it on a blog. Not this blog, though for all I know people read this one too. I don't think that they do. I once told a friend that I had a blog and that I'd written about a certain thing, and then later he told me he'd found my blog. Maybe he didn't really, because he never left me a comment after I told him to. Maybe he found another blogger writing about similar things and has been leaving her mysterious comments. No way of really knowing who might have read my blog. But just in case, I have been careful not to mention certain things here, only to have someone I know find out some of it on someone else's blog.

I am seriously in the twilight zone now. And I have not done the dishes and I have not eaten. I half want to go to bed and hope I feel better tomorrow, and I half want to just start throwing stuff onto the curb. If I threw out all of his stuff and most of my stuff, would I feel better? Or would that just be one more thing to feel bad about next week?

Okay, life really does suck now.

You'll have to excuse me. I'm not up to screaming right now, so I'm going to go to bed and feel sorry for myself for a bit.