anxiousI'm lying on the couch trying to do some of those mind-focusing exercises, trying to relax myself so i don't freak out over every little thing. So i don't lie awake all night stressing out about weird and insignificant stuff. And all i can think about is how this couch for me when we got our own place it's like my sanctuary, finally, finally i have a place i can call home, call my own, where i can relax. But for J it's like finally, finally she has a place she can bring all her friends and family to, have this couch as some kind of rotating fucking door for random people. Just the thought of it makes me feel sick to the stomach, i am trying so hard not to have a panic attack over the idea of having to share this apartment with someone else. I feel like it could kill me.
I just read my dad's eulogy for his dad. In some ways he was a polar opposite to me, his doors open to everyone. In that respect i inherited a lot more from my mother's side, the intense privacy. I wonder what kind of person i would be if i wasn't so terrified of having to interact with other people, of having them in my space. I wonder what it would be like to not even consider it "my" space, but just to see the whole world as one big common. Just trying to conceive of it is making me shake uncontrollably.
I guess i will try go back to focusing my mind again. It's like whack-a-mole, deal with one thing, another one pops up, then the first one pops back up again. It's good to be exposing all this stuff, better to deal with it now than not at all, but man. Be nice to take a break once in a while. I am going to eat sugar free raspberry jello.
