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everything is awful
So Sunday I took half an Ativan at bedtime, as I said. Slept like a rock. Monday night I pondered whether I should do so again, and Himself said he thought I should - not that I should take it every night, but as I was still feeling the dad's-hospice-anniversary tension, it wouldn't hurt to ensure another night of good sleep. And I took the Ativan and did again sleep like a rock.
Last night, Tuesday, I did not take the Ativan and in fact my sleep was pretty fitful. I never woke all the way up, but I'm aware of having been not entirely asleep a few times and getting tangled up in the blankets and generally in a lot of ways not lying still, and then some time between 4am and waking up I dreamed that a friend told me, out of the blue, that her parents had both died three or four days earlier. She was handling it quite calmly, though the news upset me a great deal; and then the dream shifted to where I was back in Edinburgh, mysteriously - in fact the shape of the street was a street in Oxford (St Giles), but in the dream it was accepted that it was Edinburgh. I was in a pub or restaurant or something that I couldn't get out of and find my way back outside, and then I did find myself outside, and in a garden I heard a noise and found a baby in the shrubbery, and a few minutes later someone reminded me that wasn't the first time that had happened (that is, this wasn't the first time I personally had found a baby in a garden). Anyway eventually I woke up. (Much later than I should have, when Himself was already in the shower, probably having told me he was getting up and going to take a shower and got no response from me, not so much as a hrmpf.)
Today I found it harder and harder to focus. I don't want to mute or block actual people off my Twitter feed but I have to find a way to get the Tweets about the 545 (right now) kids whose parents they can't find off there, because I can't bear it. On Facebook at least I can hide particular posts, but on Twitter - I can choose "mute this conversation," but that just mutes it going forward, it doesn't get the post off my feed entirely, so until it falls off and I manage not to hit it when I scroll back I keep seeing it - the one today had highlighted a quote from a caseworker who had to give the news to the kids themselves, and I don't think it's just because I'm already fragile from my apparently annual dad's-hospice stuff as I said above. My heart literally aches. I feel sick to my stomach.
And I can't think of anything I can actually do to be helpful to those children or their parents - I'm not interested in being helpful to anyone else involved - so the only thing I can do to help myself is arrange it so I don't have to keep being reminded of this thing, the absolute worst thing that has ever been done "in my name" (that is, by agents of the country's government of which I am an adult citizen, not that I voted for any of the ones who did this or have ever approved of anything any of them have done) and may never be corrected. Put another way, I don't want to know this, and I can mostly choose not to have to, and that's not okay either. Himself and I were in the kitchen at the same time and he asked me how I was doing and I sobbed so hard he cried a little while he was holding me.
I ordered a big junk-food lunch because sometimes it does help a very little bit to eat our feelings (and I can't actually drink during the work day). And I have to shake it off before I pick up my own kid, because while I can get a little mileage out of "Mommy isn't feeling well, so please be extra well-behaved," I can't do that every day, and I am not ready for him to know why I'm sad (either the dad stuff or the news stuff). So here I go.
Last night, Tuesday, I did not take the Ativan and in fact my sleep was pretty fitful. I never woke all the way up, but I'm aware of having been not entirely asleep a few times and getting tangled up in the blankets and generally in a lot of ways not lying still, and then some time between 4am and waking up I dreamed that a friend told me, out of the blue, that her parents had both died three or four days earlier. She was handling it quite calmly, though the news upset me a great deal; and then the dream shifted to where I was back in Edinburgh, mysteriously - in fact the shape of the street was a street in Oxford (St Giles), but in the dream it was accepted that it was Edinburgh. I was in a pub or restaurant or something that I couldn't get out of and find my way back outside, and then I did find myself outside, and in a garden I heard a noise and found a baby in the shrubbery, and a few minutes later someone reminded me that wasn't the first time that had happened (that is, this wasn't the first time I personally had found a baby in a garden). Anyway eventually I woke up. (Much later than I should have, when Himself was already in the shower, probably having told me he was getting up and going to take a shower and got no response from me, not so much as a hrmpf.)
Today I found it harder and harder to focus. I don't want to mute or block actual people off my Twitter feed but I have to find a way to get the Tweets about the 545 (right now) kids whose parents they can't find off there, because I can't bear it. On Facebook at least I can hide particular posts, but on Twitter - I can choose "mute this conversation," but that just mutes it going forward, it doesn't get the post off my feed entirely, so until it falls off and I manage not to hit it when I scroll back I keep seeing it - the one today had highlighted a quote from a caseworker who had to give the news to the kids themselves, and I don't think it's just because I'm already fragile from my apparently annual dad's-hospice stuff as I said above. My heart literally aches. I feel sick to my stomach.
And I can't think of anything I can actually do to be helpful to those children or their parents - I'm not interested in being helpful to anyone else involved - so the only thing I can do to help myself is arrange it so I don't have to keep being reminded of this thing, the absolute worst thing that has ever been done "in my name" (that is, by agents of the country's government of which I am an adult citizen, not that I voted for any of the ones who did this or have ever approved of anything any of them have done) and may never be corrected. Put another way, I don't want to know this, and I can mostly choose not to have to, and that's not okay either. Himself and I were in the kitchen at the same time and he asked me how I was doing and I sobbed so hard he cried a little while he was holding me.
I ordered a big junk-food lunch because sometimes it does help a very little bit to eat our feelings (and I can't actually drink during the work day). And I have to shake it off before I pick up my own kid, because while I can get a little mileage out of "Mommy isn't feeling well, so please be extra well-behaved," I can't do that every day, and I am not ready for him to know why I'm sad (either the dad stuff or the news stuff). So here I go.
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Some ideas for better blocking on twitter: if you read twitter on your computer, you can use Tweetdeck, which has a better filtering ability than twitter regular. If you read it on a phone, you can use Tweetcaster (https://tweetcaster.com/), which has the ability to 'Zip' things - people, keywords, hashtags, etc for set amounts of time, including forever. You can hide the zipper so you don't even have to know the tweet was there.
no subject