Today, I discovered that people are not psychic. Said discovery is now safely filed away in a box labeled “Things You Know But Always Forget.”
I do. Always forget.
As I complained about a few posts back, my body is currently insane. INSANE. And my coping mechanisms continue to be curling into a ball and making contorted facial expressions. Unless Jennifer is around.
Jennifer is the bestie. It goes without saying that your bestie is one of two people around whom you should not have to pretend to feel strong. And yet.
Which does both me and Jennifer a huge disservice. I feel like I’m a liar (I am) and he has no idea what is really going on. It only follows that I cannot be resentful for his not being able to discern how much pain I am in.
Or how much being around him helps me stay out of my head, and gives me something other than the pain to focus on.
So, when I text him at 18.00 (my brain likes “military” time…don’t judge me), freaking out that I cannot think or concentrate because I am both physically and mentally exhausted from trying to keep it together while experiencing all this pain, I should not be offended when he doesn’t call me and tell me everything will be okay and he’ll come save me from myself.
Jennifer is not psychic.
The other night, there was a strange man in front of my house. I don’t get home from work until almost 2am, when people are usually in bed and not looking as though they are watching my house. Said man was leaning against my fence, looking at my house, for half an hour after I got home from work. I do not know how long he had been there before I got home. I do not know if he wanted something from me, or from my house, or if he just thought the house was nice and stopped to admire it. At 2am. In 10 Fahrenheit degrees of winter.
Whatever his reason for standing outside my house, he terrified me.
Jennifer came over and stayed with me. The man was gone by the time Jennifer arrived, but Jennifer stayed nonetheless. Once I calmed down, I was able to sleep, knowing that I was not alone.
Maybe that’s my problem.
I feel so alone.
I am trying to be all grown up, and take care of my problems myself. I cannot currently afford to go back to the doctor, so I am just taking the ibuprofen and applying the heating pads and doing things to try and make myself feel better but not really succeeding. I am feeling overwhelmed with school and the prospect of graduating and all that I need to get done before the semester is over, but I am keeping quiet about how overwhelmed I feel. I’m not sleeping like a real person, and I purposefully fail to illustrate how bad the sleeping issue is when people ask. I am tired, and stressed, and in pain. People ask what they can do to help and I say, “Oh, nothing. But, I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.” I say that because I cannot ask anyone to commandeer an MRI machine and kidnap its corresponding technician. But I say that because I do not know how to ask for the things I need.
It only follows, then, that I cannot hold it against the rest of the world for not doing the things I need it to do. The rest of the world is not psychic.
Jennifer is not psychic.
How do you let go of your pride and tell your best friend that the demons in your head are just as terrifying to you as the strange man who was outside your house? How do you tell him that you just need someone to hold you, so you can calm down? No. Not someone.