Seven long days

I can't believe it's been seven whole days since I've written anything. I've looked at my blog, read other people's blogs, but when I contemplated writing myself, I just got a squicky feeling in my stomach and had to quickly go watch another episode of my latest comedy addiction, Goodness Gracious Me, to bolster my mood.

As I said in my last post, I've been sick with the crud. I finally felt okay and up to going out, so I went over to my cousin's house Sunday to watch the Superbowl. It was just a small gathering, being my cousin and her husband Jim, one of their teen sons, and Mum & me; just a little family get-together with food and The Game. And when I say "family", I don't mean the kind of family that you have to put on your best manners when they're around. No, I'm talking the kind of family who wouldn't even blink an eye if I suddenly sat on the floor of their den, took off my shoes and started painting my toenails. That kind of family, comfortable and well-loved.

For some reason, we were to arrive several hours before the game. So we went over around 3pm, and so it began. There was far more food than six people (the son had a friend over) could eat, but we did our best. And as Jim is addicted to golf, we watched that before the Superbowl started. As usual, I poked fun at the golf announcers and made my cousin giggle. As usual, the boys were off playing "Guitar Hero 5 Trillion" (number may be exaggerated), and making me feel old by popping out to ask me, "Hey, do you know this song by, uh, Pat Benatar/ Rev. Ho./Ramones/etc.? Was this, you know, popular when you were a teenager?"

Sidebar: See, I'm the "cool" cousin--okay, I'm really just the "weird" cousin-- who listens to all kinds of music, so even though my cousins have never heard of most of the music in GH, they know I probably know most of it. And I do. Even the grotty speedmetal stuff.

Anyway, it was a typical low-key visit, hanging out waiting and killing time until the game started. Then finally, it was on. I was watching hot guys in tight clothes sweat, run, and jump on one another. It was great. I mean, people kept talking about "downs" and "incomplete passes" and silly things like that, but I didn't let that distract me from the important task of finding out which team the hot mocha-skinned guy whom I spotted during the national anthem played for, so I could cheer for them. Yes, I am that shallow and uninterested in football, that I chose my team based on a pretty face. Most of the time I don't even know which teams are playing in the effing game until it starts. But I loooove watching the Superbowl. I know it makes no sense at all. I know.

All was fine. The game was on, excitement in the air, yadda yadda yadda. Then a good bit into the second half, I started feeling antsy. Jim was drinking more than usual, and I could tell he was quite tipsy; it started really irritating me for some reason. Everything started irritating me. I was nervous and on-edge, and felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I quietly went and told my mom that I really needed to leave soon, and that perhaps I could leave and then come back for her when she was ready to come home. We only live about 10 minutes away, so it wouldn't be a real hassle. But she wouldn't go for that, and since we were in her vehicle, it was her call. She insisted that it wouldn't be all that long, since there was only xx minutes left in the 2nd half.

I was quietly, and completely, freaking out, and I have no idea why. Then I started thinking about my m/c, and it got worse. The effing wall of control was shattering, out of the blue, while I was at a mini-Superbowl party. And I hear my mom get the bright idea to make a cake. A cake. An effing cake that they have to send the teens out to get some of the ingredients for. I point out that I really need to get home ASAP, and that if they do this cake thing, we'll be there for at least an extra hour. I get hushed and shushed, and told to be patient.

I guess in a way, it was my own fault. I should have made it clear that I REALLY needed to go, that it wasn't just one of those, "I think I'm ready to go," kind of things. That I was on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown. I found the most isolated spot I could in the den, and closed in on myself. The game ended, finally; my team lost. I didn't really care at that point. Now I had to wait out the great cake experiment.

I closed my eyes and just tried to chill out on the giant leather couch. I could feel tears burning in my eyes, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then my face felt hot, and I somehow knew there someone standing over me. My eyes popped open, and there was tipsy Jim, waggling his fingers over my face the way a teenager would to be annoyingly playful. I screamed out, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" and everything went quiet. I covered my face with my hands and just sat there until I regained my composure. We left shortly after.

I am emotionally raw. I can still summon up the wall, but it has huge, jagged cracks and holes in it now; its integrity has been compromised. I just don't feel like I can deal with people very well right now, unless everything is very superficial and non-personal. I want to talk, but at the same time I don't. When I do want to talk, I don't know who to talk to. As much as I love her, my mother is so repressed & uptight that she could swallow coal and shit out diamonds. My friends are all so busy with their own drama and grief that I feel selfish and uncomfortable talking to them. I'm so financially screwed right now that I'm literally lucky to have a roof over my head, so going to a councilor isn't even remotely an option.

And what would I say, anyway? "I feel really sad and angry all the time and I don't know what it's all about. I don't sleep anymore. I've never eaten this much before in my life. If someone looks at me crosseyed, I feel like I'm going to burst into tears. Yes, I had a miscarriage 24 days ago, but how can I be this messed up from that? Is that it? Is it more? I don't know. Can you help me to fix me?"

I am so screwed.