In case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling crabby and decidedly unhappy. I can't pinpoint any particular reason why. Yes, the past few months have been shit, but lately things have been going really well. I got to spend the holidays with Shy and Orlando because I've been let back into my home. All good things, right? But I feel so angry right now. I don't know what it is.
Fine, some of it - a lot of it - has to do with being worried about Shy and Orlando. Yes, they've been tested and are safe for now. But not everything shows up in tests right away. I don't know what I'll do if they get sick. No, I know what I'd do. I would take care of them and do everything I could for them. But I'm terrified by the prospect of losing them both and watching them waste away before that happens. Mom has accused me of borrowing trouble when I worry about things that are already out of my control, but that's just the way I am. I worry. I imagine scenarios. I expect the worst because when it doesn't happen, there's reason to celebrate. But this is one worst case scenario I can't even stand to think about and prepare for. Peter told me what it was like towards the end for him and Kory. The man he'd loved for seven years was a shell of his former self when he died, but Peter stayed right by his side until the very end. I know I could do that, but I'm so afraid of not having the strength to hide just how much pain it would cause to see them sick. It's selfish and so very me but it's a fear.
And I need to stop thinking about this because it's not going to make anything better. They are going to be fine. They will. They have to be.
Maybe I should go have an ice cream sundae with extra nuts or something. The sugar will make me hyper, then I'll crash hard and feel sick and feel sorry for myself. Much better than anger.