It’s as if somebody smacked me. I was feeling moderately happy when my ears started ringing and I got instantly queasy. My mood fell like jumping off a cliff.
I am fed up with my Utah life. I just want to run away. Daily I try to convince myself that I should be grateful to have someplace to live, friends to talk to and a few decent doctors. I might not have much money, but I know where to get free food and the best deals on things I need. I can watch BYU TV by antenna. I have a nice woman who does my laundry at a decent price. I live surrounded by Mormons and temples and some incredible church resources for genealogy and studying history. I can go three blocks from my apartment and get on TRAX. There’s a humongous library nearby.
Why can’t I just be like other people who are content to stay put? Why am I depressed about living here? I have rarely stayed put. Even at my underground house, I took off whenever possible. I feel better when camping…as long as I have enough money for food, gas and parking. I always get stronger when out adventuring.
I am basically sooooo sick of being sick!!!! I want to snap my fingers and switch to a different reality. Maybe if I get lower in elevation, I can breathe better. Maybe if I get out from under these temperature inversions I would quit choking. If I escaped from the indoor pollution, would my lungs clear?
Then I get scared. I hated feeling homeless in Portland. Enduring the temperature fluctuations and all that rain in a little RV wasn’t pleasant. I had a reduced disability payment and finances were impossible. Without being hooked up to electricity, I can’t use my CPAP and oxygen. Without an address I can’t even get medical equipment or care. I need power to charge my wheelchair.
I am bummed out about Rhett. I haven’t talked to him about being split up or getting a divorce. The whole relationship was just left dangling. For Thanksgiving last year, I scrimped and saved all month to be able to put on a big dinner for his kids. After that they would come take Rhett out to eat and leave me home alone. His whole family treated me that way. I invested tons of effort into helping Rhett. It consumed my life. Mostly what I got back was neglect and abuse. I still miss the nice Rhett, but not the grouchy, demanding one. What is it about me that almost begs to be misused? If I am polite, why can’t people be polite in return? I don’t understand 😦
I think I am having holiday blues combined with my usual wanderlust. I think I can’t deal with feeling so sick and helpless. I was putting in a new belly bandage and my fingers felt wet. More blood. I need cheering up. Sigh…..