Stupid Pneumonia

That depression that I talked about last night? Yeah. It hit. Full-bore. And I called him and made him feel guilty and that was totally NOT my intent. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was to make him feel guilty. I just didn't know who else to call. And now the guilt of how I made him feel is on my shoulders. Which just makes things worse.

I'm just so sick of these walls. And I should be happy. I heard the words I longed to hear tonight after a wonderful picnic with him by the river. It was beautiful. I really didn't want the night to end. But he said he was tired and I should rest and that was it.

Then he said that he was going out. And that's where the good feeling ended.

I appreciate that he didn't lie to me about his night. I really do. But it upsets me a little that he knew that I didn't want to be home tonight. I want to be anywhere but here.

I'm trying to hold on to the night that happened beforehand. I really am, but the walls are closing in on me. I swear. I know every crack in the wall. I know what needs painting. I know the spots in the carpet.

And, gah! I feel horrible about making Finn feel horrible. Which only makes the sadness I feel about being home that much worse. I seriously didn't mean to make him feel bad. I just needed to lash out at something and he was it. And I'm so sorry that I did that. That wasn't fair to him.

So, Finn, if you're reading...I'm sorry, baby.........

Been A While

So, I'm still alive. I think. I went to the ER yesterday because I was coughing up a little blood. The docs are erring on the side of caution and although they sent me home, they're treating me for tuberculosis. I know, TB? In today's day and age? Well, the meds that I was put on for the Crohn's has lowered my immune system enough to make me susceptible to the infection. I think I only have pneumonia, but I'd rather they take the precautions necessary. So I'm home. Not allowed to go anywhere. Except stir crazy. I've played all my crack games on Facebook. Faxed the courthouse regarding my divorce, texted friends. Frittered the day away online. I'm too bored to sleep even. I'm going to have to take a sleeping pill later.

While I was in the ER, they gave me a dose of morphine. This was good...it immediately took away the pain in my joints from my fever. Bad thing? Remember my last post about wanting to say something that I haven't been able to? Yeah. Well. I said it. Or rather, I text it.

So, I think that in my morphine-induced coma, I screwed up a really good relationship. I'm being completely neurotic about it. Have been all day. I keep wondering if I screwed up. I really want to talk to him, but I can't have contact with him. And he's not really a phone person. This bites in so many ways. I suppose I should take it as a sign that he's still texting me, right? That maybe I didn't screw up that horribly? I don't know....

Being sick. Screwing up relationships. Sounds like my MO.