everything changes

Last night I got some more bad news. It was regarding the apartment, and it happened right at the end of a 12 hour day. The apartment is still mine if I want it. I suppose I have no choice.

So I got to LaPlace and the second I walk in the door it all starts all over again. Same old cycle, same old things said and cried over and agonized over. I need to go. There's nothing worse than coming home and knowing that your presence is making someone miserable, to know that they dread you coming through the door enough to where they consider a hotel. I'd be considering a hotel right now if I wasn't so completely fucked.

I had to take a drive. It was 1am, I was exhausted, but I know things now that I can't un-know.

I drove around aimlessly, went to Luling, up and down Barton, through my mom's neighborhood, all the way to Boutte, Paradis. Bayou Gauche. The whole time I felt a crater in my heart, like a bomb had gone off in it. Utterly past the point of hysterics or tears. I was too tired to even be scared, even though I have plenty to be scared about. Last night ruined me. There are some things you hear and it slams a gate down in your head and your heart and no matter how many times you try to find the key, life has already thrown that motherfucker in the ocean. I got back to LaPlace around 2:30 or something and laid there until my body forcibly made me sleep, and I woke up at 5:30 with a chill in my heart. I am at work, and I don't want to be here, but the only place I need to go right now is not mine yet, and I don't want to go where I'm dreaded.

When I get to LaPlace, I plan on taking a Xanax and some Nyquil, and I plan on sleeping until tomorrow. And when I get there tomorrow, I'm going to take half a chip of Xanax and get to packing. I'm going to come home, pack, and lock myself up. Rinse, repeat. Until 2-7-19.

I think I got what I asked for yesterday.