Walking Wounded

I've been struggling with my mood this week. Blue doesn't even cover it. I'm not sure if Holly Golightly's Mean Reds would even cover it.

It started with something so stupid. My date on Friday night was really fun. We talked for a good couple of hours and laughed and seemed to be interested in the same movies and such. There was no goodnight kiss, but there seemed to be enough to warrant at least hanging out again.

Saturday, I set out to spend the afternoon wandering. I needed to check at the Shoe Company. I'm in desperate need of new shoes, which I can't really afford. Well, I went out to Queen West to check the Silver Snail and HMV, then headed up to Yonge and Bloor. The turning point was when when the pair of shoes I wanted, that I had checked on their website, turned out not to work for me. Underneath the laces, the tongue was elasticized, so I couldn't get them on my feet. And the only other pair I liked that I could afford (i.e. dirt cheap) they didn't have in my size. Everything else was too expensive for my budget. It seems like such a stupid, minor little thing. By the time I got home, the chills of the impending flu had set in, probably made worse by the walking I had done (because my left leg is shorter, when I walk, it causes tension on my pelvis and lower back)

Even as the bug ebbed, my mood didn't come back.

The inability to find shoes, which I can't really afford anyway, is bugging me. I have a bit of money stashed, but I'm trying not to use it. And I start thinking of the things I need: a new mattress, a chair to replace the love seat that I don't actually own and will need to go back to its owner, a new pair of glasses. And my meagre savings doesn't even cut it.

And I left a few messages on 411 for Glenn, the guy from Friday and then emailed him and have received no response. Why do the whole "Wow, I could talk to you for hours; Let's do this again real soon" song and dance if you're just going to disappear???  But really, in this mood, I can't blame him. Why would anyone want to date a mess like me??? I have no money, never traveled anywhere significant. I can't even afford a pair of fucking shoes. I'm in a shitty, dead end job that doesn't even pay what comparable shitty dead end jobs do. What do I have to offer??????

I know, in my head, that I'm doing better than many. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, friends. But it seems to stop somewhere before it gets to my gut and my heart.

I find myself wondering what I fought for. Did I survive for THIS?? Did I endure the pain and the sickness and the abject terror to end up this person??

And I hate that I feel this way. Hate it with every fibre of my being. I want to smile and laugh again. I want to value what I have, how lucky I am and not feel like every moment is some kind of travesty or mockery of what a real, fulfilled life is.

I know that it will pass. That something nice will happen, someone I love will do or say something to ease it and the light will shine in. I'm hangin' off the cliff face, but my fingernails are dug in tight. That part, is at least something I'm used to.

Walking Wounded

I've been struggling with my mood this week. Blue doesn't even cover it. I'm not sure if Holly Golightly's Mean Reds would even cover it.

It started with something so stupid. My date on Friday night was really fun. We talked for a good couple of hours and laughed and seemed to be interested in the same movies and such. There was no goodnight kiss, but there seemed to be enough to warrant at least hanging out again.

Saturday, I set out to spend the afternoon wandering. I needed to check at the Shoe Company. I'm in desperate need of new shoes, which I can't really afford. Well, I went out to Queen West to check the Silver Snail and HMV, then headed up to Yonge and Bloor. The turning point was when when the pair of shoes I wanted, that I had checked on their website, turned out not to work for me. Underneath the laces, the tongue was elasticized, so I couldn't get them on my feet. And the only other pair I liked that I could afford (i.e. dirt cheap) they didn't have in my size. Everything else was too expensive for my budget. It seems like such a stupid, minor little thing. By the time I got home, the chills of the impending flu had set in, probably made worse by the walking I had done (because my left leg is shorter, when I walk, it causes tension on my pelvis and lower back)

Even as the bug ebbed, my mood didn't come back.

The inability to find shoes, which I can't really afford anyway, is bugging me. I have a bit of money stashed, but I'm trying not to use it. And I start thinking of the things I need: a new mattress, a chair to replace the love seat that I don't actually own and will need to go back to its owner, a new pair of glasses. And my meagre savings doesn't even cut it.

And I left a few messages on 411 for Glenn, the guy from Friday and then emailed him and have received no response. Why do the whole "Wow, I could talk to you for hours; Let's do this again real soon" song and dance if you're just going to disappear???  But really, in this mood, I can't blame him. Why would anyone want to date a mess like me??? I have no money, never traveled anywhere significant. I can't even afford a pair of fucking shoes. I'm in a shitty, dead end job that doesn't even pay what comparable shitty dead end jobs do. What do I have to offer??????

I know, in my head, that I'm doing better than many. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, friends. But it seems to stop somewhere before it gets to my gut and my heart.

I find myself wondering what I fought for. Did I survive for THIS?? Did I endure the pain and the sickness and the abject terror to end up this person??

And I hate that I feel this way. Hate it with every fibre of my being. I want to smile and laugh again. I want to value what I have, how lucky I am and not feel like every moment is some kind of travesty or mockery of what a real, fulfilled life is.

I know that it will pass. That something nice will happen, someone I love will do or say something to ease it and the light will shine in. I'm hangin' off the cliff face, but my fingernails are dug in tight. That part, is at least something I'm used to.