I’ve never had such stress and anxiety that I lost 10 lbs in a week, or couldn’t sleep, or simply laid in bed and shook when I tried to sleep. Not even when Jasmine died. I think something has to give. And not my sanity.

I’m slowing peeling back the layers of stressors, one-by-one. I’ve started with letting Jeff know this week that I can’t do everything myself – and he stepped up on the housing part of things. We should have a place very soon, possibly even by next weekend. Other than my brief attempt at having my own apartment last year, I haven’t had my own place in over two years. And I haven’t had a bedroom without kids in over two years for sure. So I’m kinda excited about having my home again.

I’m putting grad school off, for a myriad of reasons, the least of which is the workload. I really need to post/vent about the experience, but today’s not that day. Suffice it to say it was a baaaaad idea to try to get my graduate degree from a Christian university. I’m holding out for the program I wanted in the first place, which is in Seattle.

This weekend I had a massage, and I’m planning to spend the next week figuring out new ways (and rediscovering old ones) to rejuvenate myself – ways that don’t involve drinking or overeating. That’s pretty easy because my body is so fucked up right now that my stomach is quite literally keeping that promise for me.

My boss knows about my struggles with my job and I’ve told her that I’ll have a decision on whether I’m staying by mid-June. At this point I’m leaning towards staying, but we’ll see. I could just have Stockholm Syndrome at this point, seriously. Or sleep-deprivation sickness. Something. But I’m not making any decisions there until I have some clarity about the source(s) of stress.

Anyhoo… that’s the nutshell version of what’s up with me. I still read here, even if I don’t comment (or post) much!

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