Cleaning & Valentines Day

Cleaning. Cleaning helps my anxiety and helps me feel like I’m regaining some form of control in this world. Thus, I cleaned like an insane person for a good chunk of the day.

Just the downstairs room my daughter has been staying in. Taking out my grandsons things to wash so he can use them. Throwing away her garbage. Packing up what she doesn’t need. It’s nearly clean and back into just my office. I organized the dresser and let her keep that for her clothes. But the room itself is no longer hers. I can’t live in her filth. I won’t. She sleeps upstairs nearly every night. Jax’s room has both a toddler bed and a queen sized bed. She can share that with him until she gets her own housing. The end. She doesn’t get to trash every room in my house. I need rules. I need boundaries. I need respect. I feel better already knowing that room is almost back to only my space. I don’t understand how she can live as disgusting as she does. It’s so much easy to monitor and redirect if she’s only in one room.

The noter that says it’s time to charge rent. Thank you. It is. I’ve internally struggled with this for weeks. Months. I wanted her to use her money to get ahead. Yet, she chooses not to. I’ve debated what’s “fair”. I don’t even want her money. I simply want initiative. I’ll happily save it all for her to invest in her future later. I’m simply thinking $100-$150. Even with reduced rent based on income her utilities will cost her more than that and she needs to get a grasp she has bills coming. Soon when she leaves. Though I’m hoping the fact I’ve cleaned and boxed up stuff will also help it click for her.

Valentines Day is tomorrow. It’s also Sunday.  As of now we all know I hate Sunday. I’ve been thinking about Kira a lot today. A year ago she didn’t know her life would be over in just 3 1/2 months from that day. She didn’t know the person she thought loved her and was her Valentine would ultimately murder her. Of course I tortured myself. I looked at her Facebook. I looked at the “exquisite” flowers he sent her. Her words. Exquisite. I read how much she loved him. I read his reply. Because what would life be if I didn’t torture myself. And I was overcome with sadness. Sadness that she was so blinded by material things to ignore the warning signs, to look beyond the abuse, to stay. So blinded by finally feeling loved. So damaged as a child that she accepted this. My dear sweet friend – I miss you. I wish you were here. I wish you didn’t settle on him. I wish you didn’t think the love and feeling wanted sometimes was worth the abuse. I wish things were different. We all should have done things different. Just know you’ve always been loved and you’ve always been worth more than your ending in this world. He didn’t deserve you. You deserved more my friend. So much more.

Maybe if I’m sad enough today I won’t be so sad tomorrow. Maybe.  Because gosh I’m sad today anticipating tomorrow. Really sad. Grief is a super shitty, awful thing. That it is. Really, I’m just sad thinking of how happy Kira was a year ago – not knowing the person making her so happy would kill her. That’s awful when you say it out loud. Sickeningly Awful.

I still hate you today A. I hate you. I want to rewind to the very last time I saw you just to tell you I will hate you forever. Today I don’t think that feeling will get better. 8 1/2 months in and I still hope you’re burning for eternity.

So – That’s life – After typing this I can identify I’m cleaning like a crazy person because this overwhelming anxiety and grief feeling is returning and cleaning is my escape. I can identify that I’m just keeping my mind busy. Because I’m still sober and if I’m not comfortable numb I must be comfortably distracted.

Tomorrow’s Agenda – Clean, Laundry, Organize, Groceries.

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February 13, 2021

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