My dad’s surgery date has been set. March 28, the Monday, after Easter. I’m doing my best to maintain sanity, but I can’t help but think he is going to die (fucking intrusive thoughts can go to hell!) It’s an on-going battle in my head: I know he will be fine, but I can’t help but think of the worst.
This is proving to be my wrecking ball. As all of my life stressors stack up like a house of cards, my dad’s surgery seems to be the ball that is knocking everything down.
Now I’m thinking about my marriage and all of my failings, how to handle things that bother me; which turns into a downward spiral resembling and Escher drawing. Which came first, the problem or my inability to properly cope?
At this point I am not suicidal or even thinking about dying. I’m just thinking of running far far away. Knowing full well that running doesn’t solve anything, it just delays the inevitable. I want to sleep and not deal with anything. I’ve got horrible headaches. But I push on as best as I can. As best as I know how.
I had movie night with my daughter last night. We watched Inside Out and had popcorn. Turned the lights off and turned the sound on the stereo, my version of the movie theatre. We both went to bed after the movie.
Tonight we are having burgers and fries for dinner. My husband was gone all last night, and all day today. We did however have a nice lunch date yesterday. He took me to a fancy Italian place. Since yesterday was a day of fasting of meat, I had cheese ravioli and a house salad.