life continues at a slow pace. i’ve been waking up at 5 every morning for the last coupla weeks, and staying up late, so the days just freaking drag on and on. i’ve been a little sad lately. i wouldn’t call it depressed. just kind of down. i’m a boat with no rudder, listless, directionless, just floatin’.
brent is travelling to the east coast in a few weeks, to stay at an airbnb and work his new job, basically until we find a house. the realness of moving is slowly setting in. though i still haven’t told my dad. i just don’t know how to. do i just pretend like it’s a mere possibility, introduce the idea slowly, or do i reveal the info immediately the next time i talk to him?
he will take it like bad news. he doesn’t see it from my perspective, he’s not that empathetic. he doesn’t see it as an opportunity. to start anew, to get a new outlook on things. he doesn’t see how much of a rut i’m in. it’s a new place, pretty different. it’s exciting. he will just see the glaringly obvious fact that i’m moving farther away. i get it. i’m a little sad about it too, but every time i visit him, i don’t feel at home anyway. i have no place there. when i’m there, everyone’s life goes on and mine is just at a standstill. everyone’s at work or school or (on the weekends,) living it up on the stupid boat getting mildly drunk and socializing (neither of which am i crazy about).
thomas will be going to KU soon, and will be even busier. so when i go there i will feel even less at home, less of a connection.
idk what to think, as usual. i’ve been trying to get out of some bad habits lately, like consuming vast amounts of caffeine in every form possible, but i fear i will sink into worse habits if i give up my current vices.
i’m an all or nothing person, soo i tend to go a little overboard when i do things. like trying to eat more balanced. i don’t do balanced. i feel like i either eat too much or nothing at all. i play it down for the general public, but when i was younger i had an eating disorder.
i was hospitalized for a few weeks in the kind of place that takes away your shoelaces so you aren’t tempted to string yourself up. it’s a bit of a blur, but i remember sitting with a nutritionist, crying while i ate. lol. it was considered an atypical eating disorder, as it was more like a bad habit of not eating, that i sank deep into until eating became to seem unnecessary, a chore. i also rarely drank anything, so before i was hospitalized i would go in once a week for liquids through an IV.
anyway, the point of this little trip down memory lane is that i am afraid of falling back into old habits like that. the overall point of this rambling is that change and balance are freaking hard af.