s a d.w r e c k e d.t i r e d.

Wake in the haze of the new day, with the privilege of warm blankets and the roof over your head

Rising from the temporary deathlike slumber, deathless.

This is late, but better late than never, right? 

I guess I just haven’t felt up to updating at all, I guess nothing has been happening, I guess my life overall isn’t that fascinating; But in the last week maybe it has picked up, just a little. Maybe things have somewhat changed.

I don’t know when or how, but I stopped talking to Spencer and really, he’s kind of stopped talking to me, but I think that’s a good thing. Even if it sometimes doesn’t feel so much like one- It means he’s doing well and doesn’t need me. That’s good. I shouldn’t need him too.

In other news, I’ve made friends with Patrick and his sweet little boy, Declan. I bought him a toy dinosaur, and Patrick’s told me he’s named it Kim. Kim is a nice name. It fits, I think. While they’re still here in LA, I’ll tell Patrick about some of the parent and me classes that go on. He might find some use in one of them. Plus, a couple of familiar faces would be nice, once I get back around to volunteering.

Even if I’ll probably never have one of my own children, I can listen to Patrick’s stories about Declan. I can make friends with other people who have kids. That’ll have to be enough. It is enough.

After tour, I came home to a really large, new home with boxes stacked upon boxes... that’s what I get for having everything moved while I was away. It’s not all bad though. I get to unpack by myself, and it’s actually been a really healing experience for me; Just to see how much space there is to fill, how much space I don’t have to fill. 

I’m enjoying it, but it does get awfully quiet at night when I’m all alone. It’s awfully quiet all the time, but at least I haven’t had any attacks here so far... Hopefully the house-warming will make things feel a little less silent.

Nothing of major importance has really been happening in Emily’s life this week.

I’m not exactly having a rough time, so much as a complicated time. Nothing has changed between Spencer and I, we talk. He apologizes. I check up on him. I want to feed him, but I know I can’t. I just want to help. I just want what’s best for him. I just want him to allow himself to experience growth.

He’s got a girlfriend and that’s good. It’s someone to take care of him. I just wish he would open up to her, the way he opens up to me. Maybe they’d have a better shot at a happy ending. The one we never got to have. The one I’m fighting day in, and day out to not think about.

In other news, Norman has been keeping me company. Much like he always has, and it’s like we never broke up. He’s attentive, kind and gentler than he looks. He’s good for making me laugh, good for making me feel special. Good for helping me forget about how the walls close in. We’re good at being friends, better than we were at being lovers. At least, I think so.

Regardless of all this interest of vast neutrality in my own life, therapy this morning didn’t go too well.

 My real doctor often sets me up with doctors for when I’m touring. They are the same whenever I visit, but I never am.

I have changed. My life has changed. My world has changed. My phobias have changed. 

They suggest pills and a different career, I suggest they let me keep some control over, well, me. I was late to the venue today because I kept thinking the elevators were going to crush me and couldn’t get out of the hospital, once I got in it... nothing to out of the ordinary for me, though.

I’m trying not to drown in my regrets, trying to enjoy sets and make friends, but I really rather just be alone. I don’t think that requires medication. I think it requires a hotel room, and much earned relaxation. Tour is no joke when it comes to being worn out. Tonight I’ll burn some sage and listen to white noise for a few hours.