Where do you go when you need to escape and you don’t really know what to escape from? When it follows you around, everywhere you go, anytime of day.Last night was terrible…. it’s like everything came down at once. The fucked up thing is, I was trying to pull myself together and trying to be …. fuck I can’t even remember the word I’m looking for in Norwegian, the only word that pops to mind is humiliated, which is far from what I was going for…. humble! I was trying to be humble and show appreciation and respect for my fiancée as she puts up with me and all my bullshit… it kind of backfired, I guess I was rambling on like a crazy person, making even her upset. She finally threatened that if I didn’t see a doc and fix this she will leave me. I can’t blame her, I know she’s had her share of shit before, and she doesn’t need this coming from me. And yes, I know you read these words too, love… I bet you are the only one that does.
Anyway, I could hardly get out of bed today, I think I spent an hour trying to muster the courage for it. My body felt like it was hit by a truck during the night, and nothing seemed to help, not food, not hot shower, not anything. I barely made it to work on time and had to drive to get there today. In the car I called my doc and asked him to make an appointment for me… and I think he must be getting old or something because he seemed to shift his idea of what we were talking about during the conversation. Seemed he suddenly thought I had like a flu or something. Trust me, this running nose has nothing to do with the flu. He made an appointment for me at 8:15am on Monday.
I’m realizing I’ve had these feelings for years, these situations, too. Now what the fuck did I do to deserve this? I must’ve done something baaad, real bad – in another life, another existence, another time, another life. Whatever the reason, I’m sure I deserve it somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better though. If anything, that thought makes me feel worse.
I left work at 6pm today. My shift was finally over. The last 3-4 hours felt like torture, and I’m glad I managed to keep myself from acting out too much. I know E realized something is terribly amiss, I got way too agitated from some fucking stupid thing at work, and I guess the way I talked about stuff made it clear. I know he’s seen me like this before. He’s doing a great job at the store. If anyone deserves praise for what that store is, it’s him, not me. His mom is supposed to come today, bringing a chair for him and some food. I think he told me this to inform me that I should eat with them. Or invite me rather. He even asked if I had plans of eating something straight away when I went home, suggesting I should wait till he got back with her. I said I probably would, as I was getting pretty hungry. I lied. I didn’t have any plans of eating anything. I did however, have a plan of getting out of there before they came back – I can’t even stand the thought of socializing with anyone right now. So I went back to the flat and cleaned everything, the kitchen, living room, bathroom… vacuumed all the floors, wiped the tables, turned the table cloth in the kitchen and started the dish washer. I even washed the toilet. I hope she feels proud of her son living in a tidy and clean house. And that he doesn’t fuck up by telling her it’s not usually like this. He deserves his mom being happy for him.
So that’s how I ended up sitting in my car, parked on the docks of the port of Bergen. I thought about calling Mac and check if he was alone or not, maybe going there and just hang out in his garage while he is working at something would be some kind of therapy. I didn’t. I guess if by chance he was alone at the time I called him, you can be sure as fuck he would have visitors when I got there. And I just don’t need any more crap from anybody so I decided to skip that. I thought about going to Jannicke and say hi, too. I didn’t take the exit though, I just went straight on. Then I finally realized I just needed to sit somewhere by myself. I need some time alone. Right now I don’t know what could make me happy…. when my fiancée sent me a text this morning telling me she loves me, something that would normally make my day, I just felt saddened. Sad because she suddenly felt the need to tell me. Sad that I couldn’t feel happy about it. Hating myself for not feeling happy about it, really. And sad over the fact that I’m so fucking divulged in my own self-pity and my own crap, that it felt mechanically when I answered “I love you too”. I do love her, with all my heart!! Sometimes it feels almost too much, even. I would give my life for her, and she knows that. These last few weeks though… I just…. I can’t even describe it. I hope I make it through tomorrow. At work. Then I can just go to bed and sleep the entire weekend. And not wake up until it is time to go to the doc’s on Monday.