02
Checking Out
Today I “checked out” - at least that’s what I like to call it. I got to bed at a decent time this morning, then I woke up around 3pm..feeling pretty good. Hung out with my daughters for a few hours and then suddenly it all just seemed too much. They weren’t being bad or anything, or even getting on my nerves..but it seemed without even thinking about it, I found myself climbing the stairs to my bedroom, shutting the door..then just laying in the dark…not thinking a damn thing. Just laying there.
I stayed there too. I knew the girls were downstairs playing the Wii, and Andrew got home about 30 min later, so they were fine…..so I just stayed in bed. Even though I really wasn’t tired. I want to say I was sad, but if I was, I’m not sure what about; nothing conscious any way.
Andrew came up to see how I was and I lied. I told him my stomach didn’t feel good so he would leave me alone to stare into the dark and occasionally drift off to sleep. I have no idea what my problem was.
When I got up at 10:45pm to start getting ready for work I felt horribly guilty. Even though my daughters probably hardly noticed me missing, all of a sudden I was missing them and wondering why I chose to stay in bed all that time.
Does anyone else just feel like “checking out” of life sometime? Not in a morbid sense, but just secluding yourself away from it. And if you do, do you know why youre doing it? Or do you just find yourself alone and then figure it out later that you totally turned in your ticket for that day? There are times when I know I am checking out for a little break, but occasionally I don’t see it until afterwards and that’s when I always ask myself, “what was that all about?” - especially the times when I really didn’t have a logical, tangible reason to explain my actions easily.
Sigh…
So that was my day. Maybe it’s guilt eating at me? I told my dad I would call him almost a week ago (or is it more?) and I have yet to pick up the phone. I can’t remember the last time I even dialed a number on my phone if it wasn’t to Andrew or Taylor. I haven’t spoke to anyone else in what seems like ages. Of course I feel guilty…cause maybe he’s mad…or sad..or just feels I don’t care…hell, for all I know I have a lot of people out there that feel just like he does.
The thing is, I do care, but sometimes that phone might as well weigh 100lbs or have some kind of flesh eating disease on it. That’s how much I dread talking on it. The stupid thing is, is that once I make a call, things are never as hard as I imagined…the conversation always goes smoothly. Regardless, it never makes it any easier. I don’t know what my deal is. I know it started after my adopted dad died and my mother would call me a lot and I never knew what she had in store for me next…so I began to dread the unpredictabilty of it all. In those times, just hearing the phone ring would stress me out because I knew something crazy was usually to follow. Maybe I never let any of that go, because even once she passed I’ve treated every phone call, no matter who you are, the same EXACT way. Which again, makes no logical sense, it’s just the way it is.
Blah. Maybe that’s what I should have just said and then left it at that.
