I took the dog to the vet on Saturday. She said he's in amazing shape. She said it twice. She said, if his muzzle weren't graying, she would think he was 6, not 10. He, as usual, dragged me into the vet's office (he likes going in places) and dragged me to the counter so he could plant his paws on the counter and demand a treat. Which he got, of course.
She said that I seemed tired and asked if I was feeling well.
I have mixed feelings about the dog being in amazing shape. She assured me bigger dogs are living to 17 these days. 17. That's 7 more years. 7 more years of this. She misunderstood my expression, I think, because she assured me that she thinks Buddha will be one of those dogs who lives that long. What I couldn't tell her is that I don't want him to live that long - because I'll have to live that long.
On the other hand, I can't shorten his life by not doing the basics. That would be cheating. So I'm having his teeth cleaned in September for the last time. She said he could use another cleaning and the chances of anesthesia problems increase after 10 years old, so I made the appointment for September. And I'll continue to switch between buying him Canidae or Taste of the Wild grain-free dog food, giving him his anti-heartworm once a month, and checking him for ticks, and all the other things a good dog owner is supposed to do.
It's funny how things go on when you don't want them to. Life goes on.
It's like I'm on autopilot. I looked at the begonia by my door last night and wondered how long it's been since I watered it. I really do not know how long it's been. So I watered the plants.
I looked at the calendar for the first time in I don't know how long and noticed that I'm supposed to host book club on 9/12. The first question asked by tradition is "Why did you choose this book?" I not only have forgot why I chose the book, I have forgot which book I chose.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Every day is a struggle to stay alive. Every morning on the way to work I think I could just turn the wheel and all on the oncoming cars on 494 would crash into me. Every evening on the way home I think This one? as I drive over the bridges. One sharp turn as I step on the gas and I'd end up in the Minnesota River or the Mississippi. All day long I think what the hell is the point. There's nothing I really enjoy anymore.
I have reached a point in this life of mine when I say loudly and clearly that I am struggling with despair and suicidal ideation and people who have my phone number don't call. Not a one.
I know I'm not loved. I know I'm only acceptable when I'm amusing. I know there is no possibility of love for me in this world. I get it.
The only reason I make it home every day is that the dog is at home. I promised him, when I gave away the little black dog, I said to him in the backseat as I drove out of Stockholm I am not going to give you away. Don't worry. I will find a way to feed you. I will keep you until you die.
I am trying to keep that promise. But it is so hard. I find myself hoping he doesn't love much longer. I wish I could be free. But I made a promise, even though he's only a dog, it was a promise. I wish I hadn't. I don't want to live like this anymore.
I am so scared. All of the time. And so tired.
Friday, August 5, 2016
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Attempting to send tweets, Facebook posts, etc., as if I'm not fighting the desire, every minute, to kill myself.
I created a new Facebook account just because the neighbors use it, only to find that they're all posting the same stupid memes as ever, plus ill-spelled fawning tributes to the presidential candidate I can't stand. I wish I'd never opened a Facebook account again.
I'm screaming in my head at work. All the time. All the time.
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Monday, July 18, 2016
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Yesterday, I put Buddha in the car and drove. After a while I stopped and realized I had not brought water or my purse. It was hot. Buddha was really thirsty. There was a park on my right and So I stopped at it. There was no water source at this park, except a river or lake or something that was dammed and surrounded by a walkway and fencing. B kept looking at the river or whatever it was. He was so thirsty. I looked at Facebook and it said I was checking in in a park in Amery, Wisconsin. I was surprised to find that I was in Wisconsin. I don't remember driving there. I put B back in the car. I was going to stop at a library or some place with a drinking fountain and fill up his jug. We were both so thirsty. Then it was later and I was driving and I drove right past a sign that said off-leash dog park. I thought they might have water for the dogs. They did. B drank a whole bowl. A guy said I shouldn't let my dog drink so much water if I hadn't brought any to share. I said I was sorry I usually do. He said fuck your I'm sorry bitch and Buddha growled at him and the man backed away and said B was vicious and he was going to call the police. I took B and left. I was so thirsty. I was thinking that there must be a library with a drinking fountain in Amery so I looked at my phone and it said I was checking in in Rice Lake, WI. I don't know how I could have been in Amery and then in Rice Lake so suddenly. I was thinking that I had my phone and I should call someone for help because this was very strange behavior but I didn't call anyone because there's no one to call. I was looking for a library in Rice Lake that would have a drinking fountain when I passed a Culver's and remembered that they would have a bathroom and I could drink out of the faucet. So I stopped there and I did that and then I felt better and I went out and got B's jug and filled it up and I drank part of that, too. And then I was really hungry but I didn't have any money so I drove home. I thought if I really was in Wisconsin I should just keep driving west and I would end up in St. Paul and I did although I got turned around and ended up in Almena twice. The trip counter said 283 miles. I don't know why I drove 283 miles. B and I had some yogurt when we got home.