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i hate that i’m awake right now. you know, once you pass a point in the night of when a reasonable person should be asleep by, it just gets harder and harder to sleep at all. i’m so anxious that the turning of my stomach is keeping me awake, just like it used to my sophomore year in college when i fell victim to chronic insomnia and didn’t sleep for longer than 2 hours a night for 4 weeks and somehow still felt GR8. only i don’t feel great right now. the past weekend and today were completely consumed by moving, which i knew when i decided to it was going to suck, i just didn’t at all comprehend how much. finally i’m basically moved out of hampden and into mt vernon (after spending two days moving my brother into a storage unit in wyman park—don’t get me started). after i had a bunch of help yesterday, i tried to tackle was what left today and move the remainder of my shit by myself. filled my (station wagon) to the brim twice and loaded and unloaded the car on my own. had some help from a friend packing up the things in hampden and spent a good part of the afternoon cleaning and packing my brother’s shit because he is so goddamn lazy and irresponsible that if i didn’t do it i’m not sure it ever would get done. another sibling relationship falls victim to the patriarchy as i begin to step in the footprints left by our mother, who has always cleaned up his messes, but is out of town at the moment. amy and i spent the afternoon cleaning up after my brother while complaining about how we were raised by the same parents as our siblings, yet feel shame, not entitlement, when we have to appeal to them for help.
but it’s all basically over now, and i’m still anxious. because tomorrow i have to go to hampden and clean an entire year’s worth of shit and i won’t get any help from my brother as he packs the remained of his shit away. i told him i’d take a car load for him to my parents’ house but i’m not loading or unloading it—i’m done helping him move, when i spent my whole weekend that should have been focused on me, on helping him. fuck that. but we’ll see how it actually pans out. the bathrooms have to be cleaned. the kitchen has to be seriously scrubbed. the floors need to be mopped and vacuumed, weeds need to be pulled, cobwebs dismantled, windows cleaned, fridge emptied… and probably a lot of other stuff. i probably wouldn’t feel so stressed about this shit if my hampden landlords weren’t up my ass all week about how messy the place is—hello, we’re moving—and weren’t making me come to the final walk through tomorrow night at 7 (even though the lease doesn’t expire until midnight… they wanted to do it today, i was like, r u crazy).
now i know these are petty complaints, and i’m excited about my new place and lucky that i have time off from my job to take care of all of this shit. but christ is it overwhelming and it’s more than this. this is my first adult move without my parents’ help or consent really—they haven’t even seen my new place. it’s my first move where i’m not just moving dorm room to dorm room and have actual furniture of my own. it’s my first move where i had to call on the kindness and generosity of my friends and partner to get it done, instead of relying on my family or doing it by myself. and it was a horrible experience. after my brother yelled at me on saturday for putting his dirty clothes on top of his clean clothes (maybe if his entire wardrobe hadn’t been in the laundry room for a month, this wouldn’t have been an issue), i went into my bed and cried because sometimes i still feel like such a goddamn little child who can’t do fucking anything. and i just want to do nothing. i feel so much responsibility put on me, and my OCD makes it so much worse because i don’t know how to cope with anxiety and stress and i can’t just let things go. right now i’m grinding my teeth so hard it feels like my nose is going to fall off and i’m seriously considering just leaving the bell foundry where i’m sleeping tonight and going to hampden to clean because even though it’s the middle of the night i’m not sure it will get done otherwise.
i know, just like with all things, i’ll look back on this and not be able to remember why it was so stressful. i know a huge part of me is just depressed and anxious that it’s almost august and that that means that the countdown to school starting again is officially under way. i just can’t believe summer is really almost over. i loved my kids but i would be lying if i said, at this point, i had any interest in returning to my job on august 22nd. the thought of it is actually making me nauseated right now. i’m not sure how i got myself into this situation. college was like this fake magical wonderland sandwiched between youthful idiocy on one side and fucking bleak gray shit on the other. it may seem weird to mention it now, but i’ve felt so genuinely nihilistic lately that i haven’t even been able to write or barely read anything. because i feel so assuredly that the revolution isn’t coming. and nothing’s going to change. and i’m just a cog in a wheel that is stuck in the same mud as everyone else. everyone my mud is generic.
