Being stuck in resentment- against people or circumstances - is Hell. Dostoevsky called Hell "the inability to love other people." I am drowsy and sad in my hot apartment, unable to walk on my right foot, as previously mentioned, and reliving a lot of sadness about significant restrictions I've charge directly into - both literally and figuratively - due to making desperate choices about intimacy.
It's okay though. I stumbled across an interesting, perhaps mostly bullshit website on ETF, something about emotional freedom, and "tapping," the problem area, and repeating to yourself something like: "Even though I have a migraine headache, I accept and love myself completely." But apparently you can't use it (not sure if it's just the tapping part, or the actual positive thinking / mantra element ) on the inner ankle, because you'll either have a miscarriage or give birth to a baby that can't live without life support. Geez, louise. This world is harsh.
I had D read the comment J posted on my last blog and he agreed. Talk is cheap a las where do I - where does he? - draw the line? It can't happen again, or can it? I'll just say no, it can't. But I really don't know what I'll do, since, as Sartre wrote, "We have to do with a temporal form where I await myself in the future, where I make an appointment with myself on the other side of that hour, of that day, or of that month. Anguish is the fear of not finding myself at that appointment, of no longer even wishing to bring myself there."
Speaking of resolutions tarnished (transformed?) by time-based realities: I told my dad I felt under pressure to act a certain way the last end of my visit and I was afraid that I'd break and lash out. He asked me, with what seemed a greater part curiosity than snideness, "Are you not in control of your actions?" I said that I could keep myself from being violent, or even screaming, but that I couldn't mask my depression, etc. I asked D today if he was in control and he said apparently not, on the basis of what happened.
I don't know. Although it probably seems like it, my goal is not to embarrass him, or alienate us from any & all potential supports with our ridiculous dynamic. I've been sitting in bed most of the day, watched three episodes of a certain show, have been surfing the net, and would love for my foot to be in its normal state - far from perfect or painless, but something I've learned to move with/on - but that's foolishness. I'm overwhelmed by the thought of being with D indefinitely but there is a lot to learn from anyone. I don't want to endanger my child and I do think the boundaries are necessarily blurred in a pregnant woman. So I probably sound like all those other stupid women who are too afraid to be alone to do anything sensible, but anyway.
Let's, keep, the darkness, moving out.
I made a casserole of cooked brown rice, cottage cheese, shredded sweet potato, shredded cheddar cheese, chicken-flavored bread crumbs, three eggs, and miscellaneous spices: cooked at 375 degrees for, we'll see. Lunch was excellent today: left over whole wheat rotini mixed with a stirfry of onions, frozen vegetables, kielbasa, and curried russet and sweet potatos; and then vanilla yogurt mixed with warm berries.
