Sunday, April 26, 2009

From 7/13/2007

I'm working on trying to get my shit together. I worry about it all the time. I worry about how much energy I have and how much I had last year. I worry about what happens when I get sicker and can't do what I currently can do.

I'm combing through all my old emails - and I found this one written to my dad and a couple other people.

I have a hard time saying things. I'm much better at writing what's wrong. I'm having a really hard time dealing with whatever is wiping my energy out. I keep thinking that if I can't figure out a way to get everything done my mother may have to come live with me again. And I don't want that, but I do need help. I hate admitting I need help. I used to be able to do everything on my own, and now I can't. I don't shower as often as I should because it takes too much energy. I never do my hair. I only wear makeup for special outings and in general, I feel weak. Laundry is hard. Dishes are hard. Taking the trash out is hard. I want to organize everything but I no longer have the energy. I used to spend most my free time organizing things - rearranging clothes, sorting through all my belongings and finding a better way to store them. I like doing it, but I don't have the energy to do it. When I try I have to stop because it's just too hard. So I've been reduced to sitting at my computer watching TV all day, and I hate that.

I keep thinking how much easier things were when Darin was staying with me, or when my parents are staying with me and the last thing I want to do is admit that I need someone to live with me to help take care of me. I want to be independent, but I may have to suck it up and admit I can't do it alone.

I always feel really guilty asking people to help me, and this is why I've been out of sorts lately.

I think I'm just going to stay at home tonight and think about what I have to do... whether I admit to my parents that maybe it's time we hire someone to clean once a week (because hell if I can keep up with the dusting and the vacuuming - I can't even take out the fucking trash).

Or if Dad has to come down every other weekend to help me clean up, or if I can work out a schedule of people here who could help me. I don't know.

It's amazing how little things have changed. I still worry about all of this. I still want to be organizing all of my things and making my living space look perfect. I am still afraid my mother will have to come live with me. I'm still afraid to talk about this or ask for help. A lot of good two years has done...

What have I done in two years to make this better other than worrying about it??? Nothing. I just don't know what to do.

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