Not now but soon.
We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us. - Joseph Campbell
I remember finding that quote and “giving” it to Anna years ago when she was in California and broke up with her now-husband. it’s an encouragement while at the same time filled with practicality. we don’t always get what we thought we wanted, but the end result is what was intended for us.
I wish I could learn to accept that.
it feels like this week couldn’t be going by more slowly. I want to get up and GO. Monday I should see the vampire. Tuesday I pick up my rental car. Israel is coming with me to Texas. Wednesday afternoon, God willing, I will be in Texas with Bethany.
just writing that down for the thousandeth time has my leg jiggling, my chest tightening in anticipation, my breath catching with excitement and abject fear.
driving 900+ miles with my overemotional pit bull. I’m staying in Texas for 5 days. my stomach hurts thinking about it. it will definitely be an adventure. I admit I’m scared shitless. I know I can make the drive. I’ll have my cameras, my laptop, my cell phone, my iPod. batteries, chargers, a credit card. oh, and my personal bodyguard—Israel. he won’t let anything hurt me. is it weird that I considered the possibilty of dying in a car crash but hope that Israel will die too and then no one will have to worry about taking him? everyone knows that Judah will go to my parents. no one else is on the mortgage loan for my house, so I hope my family won’t have to deal with that. okay, so I’m a realist and a bit macabre, but you have to consider these things!
I plan on getting the Aquarius tattoo while I’m down there. hopefully Bethany won’t chicken out and she’ll get a tattoo as well.
but sitting here and having to wait is torture. I am restless. anxious. scared. impatient. I have to lay in bed for an hour or so several times a day to calm down and relax. my ANUG flared up for a day or two—instead of stomach ulcers my gums get the brunt of my pent up stress. the dogs are acting out as well. Israel and Simona were going at it earlier—Simona lept into the air so high that she almost fell behind the couch. !? I had to yell at them to not use the couch as a jungle gym. I felt like I was yelling at two unruly kids. at least they listened and got down right away. but the worst part is that ANUG makes my whole face sore, not just my gums. I eat but am never satisfied and have little craving or appetite for actual food, only a need to chew and digest and try to feel normal. it never works. I feel like my head is always pounding with a headache, but if I stop and think about it for a second I know that I don’t have a real headache, it’s moreso my thoughts racing so fast that it feels like pain.
I want to talk about everything and anything right now with anyone. but then I find there are no words to say. there’s no right way to tell someone what I’m feeling because I don’t even know what I’m feeling. I find myself falling silent, grasping at words to describe it, and failing miserably. my skin broke out in a sort of rash for several weeks—it became so sensitive that the slightest touch felt like it was being ripped and torn. but it was more a senstation than reality. it felt paper thin and agonizing. bodies are strange. stress is strange. it’s funny how the mental anxiety manifests physically.
I need to take the dogs on a walk, but even that is more of a mental exercise than anything. I walked home from my sister and BIL’s house even though he offered me a ride home. we only live a mile apart. I’ve walked there and back before. today it was without the dogs and that felt very strange. I try not to go on walks without them—I always feel an intense amount of guilt that they’re stuck back at the house and I’m out walking when that’s probably their favorite thing in the world aside from food. I just don’t feel strong enough to walk them. to look out for people, dogs, always on guard. my energy is shoddy right now. too nervous, too everything.
maybe the best description for the next few days, before Sunday rolls into Monday, is that I’ve been told that the car I’m driving is going to get in a head on collision. no specific time or place, but the knowledge that it’s inevitable. speeding towards this crash I can’t see yet, I know it’s coming, and you can’t ever prepare for something like it. you think you can sort of get yourself mentally psyched up—but in the end you don’t know how it’ll happen and waiting for the unknown becomes as painful as the crash itself.
yes, it’s something like that.
waiting for the pain, the pain of waiting, all rolled into a messy ball of nerves and grinding teeth.
