I had a dream I got shot

The other day I woke with a start, I had a painful leg cramp aka a "charlie horse". Holy fuck, it hurt so bad that I started crying. I randomly remembered this last night, as I was eating a banana before bed. I had heard that potassium helps such things. Well Murphy's law strikes again. Early this morning I woke up to excruciating pain in my calf...I could feel it pulsing. It was crazy and it hurt like fuck. I rubbed it until the intensity subsided and then drifted back to sleep, only to be woken up by my dad using the bathroom.

Yes he's back home, did I tell you that? But he still has 2 tubes..."bathroom" tubes that he has to empty. It's fucking disgusting. Why am I focusing on my disgust when I should reveling in the gratitude I feel that he's home and not in the horrible hospital? Probably because I am easily grossed out. I just would prefer not to know. But his little tube filled with something yellow (pee?) dangles from his waist and it's all I can do not to stare.

Lose your appetite yet? I did. But I just ate 2 slices of wheat toast. 1 with peanut butter, 1 with almond butter. Not a bad breakfast, but I slept late again (every day this week) and now I'm going to have to scramble to be ready for work. Also I need to stop at the gas station.

Since I woke up in such a rotten, emotional mood, I decided to get high to alleviate my drama. I definitely do not usually do this before work but it'll be fine. My cat scratched the shit out of my hand so I've got some more battle wounds. Seems like I'm always hurting myself. I've had cuts and bruises on my hands consistently for the past month or so. Guess I'm just not paying attention to what I'm doing. I've never been one to just live in the moment, my head is often out in space...dwelling and planning.

I'm glad it's Friday. I really need to get a "move on". Literally and figuratively. I need to move out! I'm ready to be out of here! If only for some fucking privacy, peace, and quiet. 

Time to get ready for work. At least D. will be there, sparking some lustful thoughts and a becoming blush.

XO

Sar

May flowers?

Sometimes I forget how to breathe.
Sometimes I forget how to walk.
Sometimes I forget who I am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've neglected blogging because I stopped caring about sharing myself with others. I stopped wanting to express my innermost self through the written word.
It used to be treat. Or maybe just a ruse. I feel like fraud, coming back to Blogger, hoping that maybe you're still out there. I suppose I could pretend that you are.

An update of sorts:

I'm enjoying the single life. I'm talking to C. again, and still crushing on D. from work. Ah, to be young and boy-crazy.

I've been smoking pot every single day sometimes all day. It's too much, and I reassure my therapist I will try to quit, but can I?

My dad is still in the hospital. He had major open surgery almost 2 weeks ago. It took the surgeons 12 hours to remove the tumor. He will be ok. Our relationship is improving. I feel that we dodged a bullet.

I'm slipping. I'm eating. I hate myself every other day. This year has gotten off to such a rough start. First the breakup with J. and then my dad getting seriously sick so suddenly. I'm trying to stay positive despite the stress but it's fucking impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Currently listening to Regina Spektor. Smoking a bowl. Drinking water. My neck aches from headbanging to some rock music the other night. My body is supremely exhausted and begging for sleep. My car's gas tank is thirsty for gas, all the driving to visit my dad in the hospital is taking a toll on my wallet.

Complaining, is that what this is? Who the fuck am I? Some jaded working class citizen with a need to be thinner and the willingness to starve. I am sofucked up.

Whatever. I'll change when I want to.

Peace.

-s