Hell and Not So Much 
I just want to run along it's sloped sides. 

2 Apr 10:16 pm 
I will be writing a lot less often.  Things have gotten much worse in a very short amount of time.  There was an absolute conflagration between the husband and me that lasted for over three hours, and I stupidly let it fly how going through this with him makes me want to rip my head off my neck forcibly, which is very true by the way.  He suffered an extremely humiliating experience early this morning at work, and promptly came home and took it out on me, who failed to come up with the proper responses, who failed miserably to make it all better and wonderful.  Like I always fail. 
    One of the dogs had snapped his leash and was making noises and movements that could easily be mistaken for threatening.  Again, this was my fault, for using the leash to tie him out briefly while he did his bodily functions.  It was a new leash; I had undue faith in its abilities. 
    I stupidly left the cereal on the counter instead of putting it back in the pantry. 
    When the sitter called to say her daughter was sick, I didn't insist she find me a substitute, but rather kept my kids at home today.  This was reprehensible of me. 
    The youngest one found a half-eaten granola bar and got it mushy and smeared it all over the bed.  This is my fault.  I should have been constantly watching him while I worked. 
    We had an appointment with the tax preparer.  We got to the office to discover that his W2 was no longer in the form booklet along with the rest of the paperwork I had assembled months ago.  This again, my fault.  He saved the day; he went home and found it.  I failed to control the wild children while there.  We discovered that a moonlighting job he held for a while last year never paid the federal or state government any income tax as per his withholding statement.  We now owe hundreds we can't pay.  I have not yet figured out how this is my fault, but I will.  In the meantime, we'll pay our taxes by installment. 
    The burger bites at the 7-11 weren't done yet, so they had to be nuked.  This, I don't think, was my fault; you better check, though. 
    The doctor ordered blood tests for lupus.  I find out in three weeks.  She also took me off the Pill and forbade caffeine in any form, and gave me a long list (which I still haven't gotten around to reading) of things I mustn't eat if I don't want migraines.  If I am still getting them when I come back for the lupus results, she will put me on microdoses of an anti-depressant that has shown results with migraines.  She told me to dick around with my desk and chair settings and take motrin for the inflammation that is pinching my radial nerve.  I didn't mention my ulcer this time, though earlier this morning I'd been berated for "letting" my stomach get all screwed up.  It's aching now. 
    There were hundreds of other ways I failed today, consistently, constantly.  Now he is afraid I might die.  I'm not afraid.  I might finally get some peace. 
    This morning I had run to the bathroom, at one point, and pressed my head against the screen on the window, wanting so badly to jump out.  It's only one story up.  To succeed, I'd have to score a direct hit on the sidewalk with the cranium.  The frightening thing about suicide is attempting and failing. 
    On top of that, Mental Health at the hospital won't answer their phones.  They are forwarding their calls to Information, who aren't very informative.  No help today.  Drive through. 

3 Apr 4:54 pm 
When I went to visit the Gus the other day, there were several things I wanted to be sure to bring up but I never did.  I wanted to tell him that I understood the dissatisfaction that he has no friends his own age.  I have no friends in my geographical region.  I have nothing in common with the people who live near me.  He feels he hasn't much in common with his housemates.  I am so flexible, and willing to try anything once.  Almost anything.  Don't come at me with heroin, for example, that shit is too scary.  But I'm not girly, not easy, and not narrow-minded.  I missed out on so much, grew up too fast, lived the Army lifestyle, let my marriage cram me into the house doing the rounded fertility goddess mother nurturer thing until I am sick of it.  I wanted to tell him that I certainly do not see him as a doll or pet or a sexless eight-year-old. 
    Instead I was nervous.  I stuttered and I blushed.  I let there be strange silent pauses in the conversation, something that never happens to me anymore. 
    I think it's because I am walking a tightrope, trying not to come off as snobbish or aloof, but neither as a psycho stalker or geek with a crush.  I just want a friend, and to be a friend, and it not just be a net thing.  And I dunno how to do that anymore. 
    The lack of coffee was harsh today.  I finally read that list of prohibited foods; most everything I eat is there.  Yeasty breads and dairy.  Lemons and coffee.  I'm sunk.
    I did some stuff for Dulac.  The funky businesses liked my original design for a core page, but the more straight-laced ones did not, so I did a new one.
    This day was heavenly next to yesterday.  I had trouble throwing off the funk left over though.  Didn't really want to, wanted to remember not to feel too much.  If you don't feel much, you don't hurt much.