Sleeping is giving in

I cried on my drive home last night and then I got in the shower and sobbed and sat curled up, head to knees, water as hot as I can stand it pouring over me and then I turned it off and sat there and cried some more and by 8:30 last night I was out like whatever the fuck things are out like but I can’t think of the stupid metaphor right now because I’m too busy not crying. Then I woke up at midnight thirty and cried myself back to sleep and woke up again at eight this morning and then again at ten and then I decided I needed to write because I needed my mind to just shut up for like 5 minutes if I was going to make it through the day.

Hi, my name’s Alana, and for about two weeks of every year I turn into a hysterical, insecure, depressed anorexic. And you think I’m joking or exaggerating, but I’m really not. All I want to do right now is take like 5 Benadryl and 3 shots of whiskey and sleep for five days and then it will be past my father’s birthday and my body/emotions won’t be fucking with me like this anymore and I guess really if I were all those things I would actually do that except how many calories are in 5 shots of whiskey? And THIS RAMBLING IS WHAT MY FUCKING BRAIN SOUNDS LIKE ALL THE TIME RIGHT NOW. So don’t expect much coherency from this post.

You’re probably thinking “Alana, your dad died six years ago, haven’t your figured out a way to deal with this yet?”.  Except your probably not, because you probably didn’t know that’s how long ago it was but I do and that’s what I’m thinking and that might be where the not eating comes in. Because I get angry at myself for turning into such a weak shivering mess and then it’s like I don’t deserve to eat if I can’t just get the fuck over it and I probably should lose 10 lbs anyways and yes I realize this is the most unhealthy thinking ever but I just can’t help it and I promise I will totally eat next week.

How do normal people deal with this? Because everyone deals with grief at some point and everyone loses someone really close to them and as far as I can tell not everyone is walking around like a giant raw open wound feeling like everything anyone says to them is sandpaper and struggling to not start sobbing constantly. Or maybe they are but they’re like me covering it up when there’s the possibility of anyone noticing. This also another one of those moments when I specifically wonder how normal twenty four year olds deal with this shit. I mean it sucked but when I was dating Jacob but I knew he had seen it all before, seen me uncontrollably sobbing and snotty and totally incapable of functioning and taking care of myself without somebody saying here eat this, do this because I was still grieving pretty hardcore when we started dating  and well, you know, six years and all that… So when I broke up with Jacob, I basically broke up with my best friend but that’s not where most people are when they’re my age and so they must have learned some other way of dealing with this and won’t somebody please let me in on the secret of how other twenty somethings deal with the pain of having lost a parent every year? And no, I don’t want to get drunk because a) I’ve seen how much that’s helped the douche not deal with a  fucking thing and b) nothing good comes of drinking when you’re unhappy or at least that seems true to me. Except I totally just want to drink and drink and drink myself into oblivion so I could just stop feeling for a minute. Or I want to just get into the car and drive until I can’t drive any further , until I’m too exhausted to see straight and just pull over and pass out in my car and repeat for the next five days because we all know you can totally drive faster than your emotions can follow. But I won’t do those things because I have school and work and my job is to always be responsible and always set a good example and neither of those things would be those things.

And yes, I dealt with this last year when I was dating the douche and we ended up bickering the entire weekend because I was being crazy clingy and insecure and had made the mistake of telling him why I was being crazy and insecure while he was drunk so he didn’t fucking remember a thing and just found it really annoying until I said something again when it actually was my father’s birthday and then he was really really sweet and wonderful for the whole day and the next day he drove down to Berkeley and dumped me time #1. Fucker. I really would’ve rather he skipped the sweetness and just told me that day.

So I’m a little wary of going up to Matt right now and being like “Hi, I’m a giant GIANT fucking emotional mess right now and can you please just feed me mashed potatoes and hold me and I’ll try not to cry too much but I can’t promise that I’ll be in any way my usual droll incessantly smiling self but I want to bake 500 batches of cookies or brownies or whatever you want because I just need to bake and please don’t get annoyed with my extreme insecurity right now because I’m really insecure about ever being anything less then totally confident and that’s basically like the most unattractive thing I’ve ever said but I’ll probably start crying and think that you don’t want to date me”.  And yes, I really am that crazy right now and that’s why my stronger impulse is to say “Hi, I think you’re wonderful but I just can’t see you for the next five days because I need to hole up in my room and not let anybody see me be insecure and crazy and I don’t know if I’m ready to cry in front of you” which also just makes me sound crazier. Of course, Matt’s going to read all this so it’s not like I’m doing a good job of hiding the crazy but I am doing a good job of not talking about all the relationship things that I feel insecure about but only because I’m so insanely over emotional except maybe I shouldn’t have just written that and yes I am aware there’s a delete key but obviously I almost never use it because I told myself I was not going to change what I would write just because Matt reads my blog.

My brain is a little quieter now. I think I can get out bed and face the day. Maybe sometime I’ll even stop crying.