Friday 30 january

I'm having a hard time of it. I'm falling apart at the seams, irritable, exploding and yelling in rage, here in my house, all alone. I came home yesterday and my path was plowed in again and I could see the mailman's tracks -- he did not deliver my mail. I had to climb over that snowbank again, and shovel the heavy icy stuff again, wondering just how many times in a 24 hour period do I have to shovel. Truly. I had barely the energy to make supper. I made a bowl of popcorn and ate a slab of cheese while it popped. I had cocoa afterward. The I pretty much went to bed, chilled and shivering, with a headache and sinus pain, wondering if I was getting sick again. It took me awhile to warm up but I finally did and slept fairly well. It is cloudy out this morning and I would guess in the teens. We only walked on snowmobile tracks or the road. I hadn't the energy for anything else. It was an abbreviated walk. We will take a long one tomorrow.

And then the Scripture was about Moses and the Israelites in the desert, them complaining that they would have preferred to die full of food in the fleshpots of Egypt to starving in the desert, which they believe will be their fate. How I could relate to all that. Tho in all my yelling, I have not yelled at God. Just at the hard circumstances of life, currently. Actually I did yell a little bit, it could have been construed as to God but really it was just me complaining in the wilderness that it is too hard, too heavy and I cannot do all that needs to be done. I cannot do this alone. I am doing the best I can and becoming exhausted in the process and still it isn't good enough and I become so frustrated and irritable at it all. Afraid. Alone. Agitated. Anxious. Uneasy. Exhausted.

And then the continuing choir drama -- of me not going, of D insisting I go, making it all about her and not understanding the depth of how difficult this is for me. I would yell at her if she spoke to me about it right now. I would yell. I am in the yelling place. I am that far at the end of my rope. It is not pretty. I haven't even the energy to pretend it is. The weight of this winter is killing me. Too cold, too heavy, too massive. I feel small, and inadequate and very alone. Every time I come home and see the little path to my house plowed in, I feel like the world hates me.

My glasses are ready. I want to go get them ASAP. C said she might be able to take me tomorrow. I need to confirm that. If she can't, I might ask Mel. I need someone to take me. I hate feeling so helpless. I hate the demands of the larger world. I wish it would all leave me alone, and this fucking snow, what a burden. Of course CW at work had an even harder day -- he started out by shoveling and then they had him clean the production area (candle) floor -- all that wax. Needing to be scraped and removed. Sounded to me like a circle in hell. He didn't even pretend he wasn't exhausted. Life sucks! I hate it. I am all raggedy and torn open. I am so alone. I feel so alone. It is so hard to do all this.