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Monday, May 17, 2010

Sad - © Claudia Schlottman


When I first typed the date above, this is what it looked like:  10/17/05.  It’s a perfect example of how I feel.

The tears, the paralyzing, sobbing kind, began on Thursday, and they are still with me often.  On that day, after having  a pep talk with myself, I drove to the AT&T store to clear up some minor issues 
with my Blackberry.  Then I drove back home, skipping the grocery store altogether.  So much for the fucking pep talk.  After I drove into my garage, I collapsed onto the steering - sobbing uncontrollably.

Working around the house offered no comfort, so I listened to Proust for a while.  You cannot listen to Proust and cry.  But I got tired of having to concentrate on him, and went to bed for a while, calling Lisa for a ride to Bonehead.  I didn’ t feel I could drive - too many tears.  

My dogs stayed close to me in my bed, sharing their warmth with my chilled spirit. I was determined to get out of the house.  I didn’t hear from Lisa, so I dressed and drove alone to the restaurant.  

No wrecks either going or coming - except in my heart.

I spent the weekend mostly in bed, felling drained of all energy, both emotional and physical.  I made myself take the dogs for walks both days.  I knitted a little, but nothing penetrated the sadness, and I was too distracted to read more than a few pages of NIN’s A Spy in the House of Love.
And now it’s Monday morning, and I’ve been awake since 1:00 AM, sometimes weeping, sometimes not.  I tried yoga but only made it through half of my practice.

Jesus.  This is awful.  Just typing it has been an ordeal.  I give.  Uncle.  This is all I have in me today.

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