So… That happened…
Yeah. So. Life was sucking. Then a rapist bigot became the next president. I’m sure there have been other rapist bigots in the white house… but none of them quite so openly unapologetic about it. So… whole new world!Â
I’m clearly not dealing well with this.
My partners, both being, you know, gay, are not dealing well with it.
My friends, mostly being gay, and the straight ones being, mostly, not bigoted assholes are not dealing that well with it.
Yay.
Our household has been stressful this weekend, too. Things have been rocky for quite a while. I can’t actually remember when they weren’t rocky, I really need to commit to writing posts when I have totally normal, boring days so that I can remember later that they actually happen.
But this weekend was not that.
This is where we were all weekend.
Yeah… That just lived permanently on the bed all day today and most of the day yesterday. Well, permanently when not being used.
Sir just put it into the closet about fifteen minutes ago. He said, “Enough. Tomorrow is a new day.” I’m not even sure what he means, but I feel vaguely guilty that I have guilted him into giving up on us for tonight. He says to stop thinking. But… you know… what’s he going to do about it? He put the paddle away!
He took my phone. I don’t think he realizes I have Facebook on my computer. He sent me in here to write a blog post…
I don’t know. I don’t feel like going on Facebook, or defying him… at the moment. But I’m losing… myself… or… not that. Something. I’m losing something. I am struggling with depression right now. It’s been bad for months. I hide it and I’m not even sure why. It’s like an instinct, that when someone shows up I just automatically smile. It isn’t even an act, exactly, I actually… become… happier just around them, but then when they leave it’s like I bought all that on credit and everything is worse than it was before.
Sir says I should try to be more honest with people about how I’m feeling. But I… can’t explain it… but… I just… I just automatically change. I think I used to have to work at it, but it’s been so long… Maybe I never had to. Maybe I learned it when I was a kid. I can’t stop it from happening. I don’t try to be that way. I just am.
I don’t know what this post is about. Just about having a shitty weekend. And feeling guilty because… the guys are having a shitty weekend, too, I’m not more privileged to my shitty feeilngs than they are. I’ve watched the stress on Sir from his own shit, and the responsibility he feels to his role in this family… and tonight I watched him visibly take a breath and set aside his own feelings to be there for me with mine… and… it shouldn’t be that way. I shouldn’t be so needy that he doesn’t get to feel his own feelings…
Why is it so hard to just want to be alive every day? Isn’t that supposed to be some sort of biological imperitive? Just… wanting to stay alive. Shouldn’t that be like breathing? Something you can just count on your body to take care of for you so you don’t have to throw all your energy at that and can focus on the less fundamental basics? But my body, of course, seems to be missing that part of biology. I don’t wake up wanting to be alive. I have to fight every day just to not actively try to not be alive anymore… and that’s… so exhausting. And it’s unfair. My body should want to be alive naturally, I shouldn’t have to be spending my energy fighting that battle.
I don’t think this is helping me feel any better.
Bedtime is in nine minutes. I already packed my lunch (sub brother is off the whole week… I have to go to work…) I did laundry. I did dishes. Well, Sir bullied me into doing all those things, so… you know… now they’re done. Which is nice. Now I just have to clean up and change for bed. I have 8 minutes. I should do that. I don’t really feel like having to go back into the closet for pushing Sir past his mercy tonight.
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