GOD GIVE ME STRENGTH

I haven't had any meds since 4/20. Right now I have a splitting headache. And I can't stop thinking about CG. Or his brother for that matter.

Got my first unemployment check today. That's the good news. The bad news is that it's less than 1/2 of what I was told I was going to get. If this is going to be my regular check, it won't even be enough to pay my rent.

I wish I could be spending this time off doing something constructive--writing my column, cleaning my apartment, banging off resumes. But all I want to do is lie around all day. I only left my apartment once today because it's been raining steadily.

I wish I could pick up the phone and call CG. Not even to dump on him, just to hear his voice. To talk about anything. I haven't spoken to anyone all day, except to call my teacher from high school (she wasn't home).

Here's another "therapy" topic I've been meaning to visit. I'm estranged from my family. They threw me out of the house almost 7 years ago. 3 months later I got a job on Long Island, I moved away, and I haven't seen or spoken to them since. Over the years I've taken steps to try and keep them from tracking me down, but unfortunately they know where I live. And even more unfortunately I can't afford to move.

You want proof that my mother is a passive aggressive psychobitch? Yesterday I got a postcard in the mail. The front of the card was a picture of our family cat. The message on the back read, "I'm the Lone(ly) Ranger since you and [the 2 dogs] went away. Happy Birthday. Hope you're happy! [The Cat]" For the record, the 2 dogs were 14 and 9 at the time I was kicked out. Both of them would be dead of old age by now, although I was never officially informed of their deaths at the time.

So let's review--my mother (it had to have been her, since no one else from my family has ever bothered to contact me in the last few years) sent me a postcard for my birthday that basically said, "Happy Birthday, the dogs are dead." And yet no one believes me when I say I'm better off without my blood relatives.

Part of me wants to write back, "Dear [Cat], if you're lonely, why don't you ask the humans to acquire another animal, since there are plenty of dogs and cats out there looking for good homes. Of course, if they don't even give a damn when you're hungry or in need of medical attention, I'm sure that they don't give a damn when you're lonely. I'd love to come back and ease your loneliness, but I'm no longer welcome there, and I have no desire to see those humans ever again after what they did to me. They made their bed, now they have to learn to lie in it. "

As I said, my mother is a passive aggressive psychobitch. My sister has nothing but contempt for me, and my father is either severely depressed or he's a gaping and cavernous asshole--I'm not sure which.

Some women subconsciously seek out men who remind them of their fathers. I tend to be attracted to men who are the opposite of my father. What got me hooked on CG was what a genuinely nice guy he is. Not only is he nice, but he's very physically affectionate. God I love that. Isn't it amazing how a simple hand squeeze or shoulder rub or one-armed hug can change your whole outlook on life? I swear, I got more physical contact from him during the month of April than I have from anyone else in the past year.

I just want to sit on the couch and lean against his shoulder.

I can count on one hand the # of times I've seen my father initiate physical contact with my mother. He rarely displays any emotion other than anger, and he has never expressed any interest in anything I've ever done, thought, or said.

I'm hungry. But right now I have to ration my food, because God only knows when I'll be able to afford food again. I think I'm going to take some Tylenol and try to go to sleep.
- posted by Pat @ 12:36 AM