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Another Downward Sunday

Shredded.

100% The Seams Of Me.

Not Just My Body, But My Soul.

I’m Wrecked With So Much Sadness, Loss, Loneliness, Regret.

I’m in the worst Financial Crisis I’ve ever been in.

My Well-Being, falling.

My Soul,

Failing.

I hurt in so many ways I cannot take one more step, breath without collapsing.

My heart is heavy from the idea that Twin Flames still exist, that my Life will normalize again, and I will reach happiness and success in my Career again.

None of this is even close to my door. *(With the exception of Career. There is always hope in that department).

Yesterday.

My Saturday Regular Therapy Session at Noon happened.

My Last Saturday Session with my Counselor will be 8/4/18.

I already have a Replacement Again.

Why does this keep occurring?

Last Year Twice. *(17 Months with the same LPC and left me with two shitty Counselors. Then Late Spring [2017], Replaced With Another And Said Counselor Leaves In September 2017).

Now, this?

My current Counselor and I have been working together for 8 Months.

Through this awful year.

And my last Session is in 7 Days.

August and September are very difficult months for me.

Why Now?

Yesterday Evening.

I tried to finish more cleaning/chores.

I did and it almost killed me.

So, exactly at 9:22p.m, I got up and lit my two livingroom candles, fed Cats, and decided I needed a new Film/Movie to watch/view.

I chose Amy.

It’s a Docu about Amy Winehouse from 2015.

I had not heard of its release until last night on Social Media from a friend who was watching the Docu and recommended it *(Her and I have similar taste in the Film Arena).

It was a long Documentary.

Over 2 Hours.

I was not comfortable due to Dysautonomia.

So, the first 45 minutes I was fighting it all just to relax, remain comfortable.

After the Documentary, I watched her Video*(twice) for Back to Black.

I forgot how great of a Song that was/is.

*I did indeed purchase her Album when it was released in 2006.

I was a fan for a short period of time.

I decided to stay in the Music Genre of Film, so I re-watched *(half) Sid and Nancy.

It had been awhile, and I was in the mood.

Then I noticed the time,

3:23a.m

Time for sleep.

I made myself head to bed.

I did not want another downward Sunday.

8:23 on the dot I awoke.

5 Hours of slumber and dreams.

Dreams I do not want.

Insert Twin Flame.

Why am I still dreaming about him?

WHY?

My Dysautonomia was on fire, so I took my Medication and another slice of Medication to sleep.

I found myself awake after only two hours.

Again, with dreams left off from the night.

What the fuck?!

I do not want this.

It hurts unbelievably so.

The Dreams have shifted too.

These were nice dreams.

The realness of the dreams themselves and now the shift, I don’t understand.

3:57p.m

As I lie in bed, Black Slacks, Wife Beater, and a Cropped AC/DC T-Shirt, it’s another downward Sunday.

I’m tired.

Im tired from lack of sleep

I’m tired of struggling with everything

I’m tired of the past haunting me

And why I can’t let go.

Girl Down

I tried.

I am Disabled.

Dysautonomia.

And I worked until I couldn’t get out of bed this morning.

I worked 8 Days *(March 26 to April 4).

9-6p.m

*(March 12-13 were Training, so 5 Hours. And March 23 I went in 2.5 Hours late due to my Cat’s passing).

Every day was becoming more and more demanding on my body.

Physically

And, mentally.

On Tuesday, April 3, I received a phone call on my 1 Hour lunch break at exactly 1:34p.m

It was the Vet. calling me with the Preliminary Results From The Necropsy.

We spoke for 16 Minutes and 27 seconds.

This Conversation took place in Public and on Speaker Phone.

I am not okay with the Results because I was right.

Now, I’m in a place more alone than ever since I moved here and I have no one.

No one to express my pain to.

No one to talk about how I feel about everything that has been occurring these last five months.

No one to hug and tell me I am not alone.

Just a hug, an embrace would help ease my sorrow.

Now, I tried to work/educate outside my home Full-Time *(Something, I have never done since I became Disabled).

Yesterday, was my body’s breaking point.

I was so sick, my chest was caving in most of the day, blood pooling, fatigue, weak

All of what Dysautonomia does to me, but heightened due to the stress from aniexty about work/Income then a sadness for my Cat’s passing, pushing me under.

I woke today at 6:15 ante meridiem knowing, feeling my body and mind can not continue.

But, now this leaves me with nothing.

It’s 9:46 now.

This cold and cloudy Thursday, and I should be at work.

I feel defeated, broken, lost.

I want to close my eyes and wake to my old Job/Career and my Cat sleeping next to me.

These are not things one asks for in material, fantastical, dreams.

These are existence, survival.

Life.

Every night tears flood my pillow as I beg for my Cat to come back, that I’m sorry.

It’s been almost two weeks (tomorrow) since his premature passing and I feel it happens every day when I wake up *(I found him where I put my feet on the floor every morning when I get out of bed).

I feel there is a stillness, permanent ache in this house now.

No Job/Income.

No Cat *(Yes, I have another Cat, but in eight months I have had to say Goodbye to two animals and my Cat was my shadow, my soul.

Me.

Cold War Vibrations

It’s 1986.
Reaganomics has depleted me.
My crosswords are useless.

Then I remember…
How lucky I am.

My own Mother was masquerading in the 1970’s
as a Catholic heart peasant girl.
Her jet black hair and olive skin kept her a Sicilian at best.

The World shook with
Cold War fear.
My Mother and her 5 Siblings kept an American silence that cost.
She had to change her Surname,
Her Accent/Dialect, Her Culture, Her Identity, just for the sake of Peace.

She NEVER mentioned the Spring swims in the Danube, or the Winter Slopes in Krasnoyarsk.
She understood the havoc of her own Culture Identity could implode.

Instead, her eldest sibling of ten years, attended a
Beach Boys Concert.
The Democracy!
The Singing!
The Freedom!

Moments like this kept my
Family safe.
Teaching Culture Phenomena is quite unique.

As 2013 passes, my Mother deludes any factor she is aware of anything past
Czechoslovakia.

image

To watch your own Mother
dissemble her existence is
soul wretching, a disruption of one.
But, I guess
”Gotta keep those love vibrations.”

Return to 1986.
My Hungarian Independence and Slavic face gives me away.
Time is not kind.

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evil_empire

*Can you imagine having to deny your own Culture, Race as a Caucasian(and I’m 1/4 of Color)?
How ironic.

I wish I was at that
Beach Boys Concert chanting ”It’s all a lie.”