** WARNING. The following entry may contain depressive material. It may contain words of self-distain, self-pity and pouting. Scenes of uncomfortable nature will be expressed. Reader discretion is advised.**
Day after the deathiversary and here I am. The day itself went quite well. We spent the weekend in Red Deer with Grae and Mel. Hung out, ate too much, watched movies and AFV reruns. It was all good. The drive home was LONG, but we made it in good time and I was very happy to pick up my puppy and sleep in my own bed. Maddy had missed me quite a bit and kept cuddling under the blankets and giving me kisses while I tried to sleep. Silly dog. I think she was just thrilled to be away from her babies.
I felt really guilty the whole weekend, b/c we had left Dad home alone. With the three dogs, but still alone. And, I guess I feel like he's our responsiblity and I probably should have stayed home with him. But he said the day went well, he went out a few times during the weekend with friends and watched some movies, etc. Still, I felt bad for abandoning him and at the same time, think it's stupid that we are taking care of him instead of vice versa. I guess that comes with the whole changing of roles between parents and children. God knows, we had enough of that the last few years.
This weekend, I told the siblings about the last thing I said to Mom just before she died. I said "Have a good time. Say hi to Dez and Auntie Carolyn." Yeah, I'm an idiot. I feel like that one skit where the dude knows he's going to die and spends days saying these profound statements so they will be the last thing he says. In the end, he says "Oh, I think I pooed myself" and then he dies. Typical. The funny thing about it is that Dez was my dog. My first dog who died not that long before Mom. I'm not sure why I thought she'd be the one to meet Mom on "the other side" (I hate that phrase). Grae thought it was pretty funny. Like Dez would have met her there otherwise and said "Did she say anything about me?" and Mom would be like "Oh, this is awkward... no, she didn't mention you."
That was only one half of my thought process this weekend. Ky kept asking me what I was thinking and I hated to admit how often it was of G. Mostly I was thinking about his trip - he will have landed in London this morning. I was thinking about the good things about him and the bad things that I did in the relationship and how really there is never anyone to really blame. I was mostly thinking though about how it's been the worst 5 years of my life (not b/c of him, he just happened to be present for it) and I shouldn't be surprised that I couldn't make a relationship work. I mean, death and sickness and more death and all that crap. It gets in the way. More than normal stress I think. But still, somedays, I just want to scream at him and demand that half of my twenties back.
I am surprised by the amount of violence I feel towards him. Him and her and everyone else who might have the misfortune to cross my paths and be happy. Heaven help you if you ever crossed me, b/c I take great pleasure in wondering how to ruin your happiness too. Maybe not to that extreme, but I've never been one for feeling just a LITTLE of how I'm feeling. That's me, all about excess.
Mostly though... I'm just tired. Of trying, of searching, of giving, of watching other people get what they want. Of waiting for someone who treats me as though it isn't a huge chore to spend time with me and be nice to me. I mean, I'm well aware of how difficult I am. But for crying out loud, how hard is it??? Bah. Stupid men. I'm cute. I'm tall and stacked and smart. I'm not fun, per se, but whatever. I can pun with the best of them. I just don't like to look stupid. I just want someone who thinks I'm funny, is taller (or at least not embarrassed by my height) and who fits in with my family. (Read: slightly mental)
A friend's boyfriend is encouraging me to have a wild fling with someone. I think I have enough trouble.