Yesterday was shitty.
I opened my box of ex-fiance stuff. Most of it went into a bag for donation, which I then threw in the back of my Jeep. I can't drop it off anywhere until the lockdown is lifted in my area. The smaller items — mostly photos — went into a much smaller box, which is now on top of my other two memory boxes shoved at the back of my bedside table. I have another box that's just the right size for sending back a couple of things. I thought I'd sent back everything, but I was wrong, so now I need to mail out one more package. I've put two items in it already. I need to find a USB key that's in my desk somewhere, then I need to put something on it that I was supposed to have given him long ago. I feel like such an asshole for not doing it earlier.
I deliberately unpacked the box in the afternoon, rather than the evening as I'd originally planned. I put on an episode of the "Is We Dumb?" podcast in an effort to keep myself distracted. It made me laugh, so I guess it helped. Too bad it didn't help enough to stop me from feeling sick. By the time I'd finished unpacking that damn box, I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. I wasn't suffocating or choking, exactly; it just felt like I couldn't get enough air. My body felt weak and shaky. I knew that laying down wouldn't help me, so I left the house to clear my head. Speaking of which, I hit my fucking head while putting the bags in the back of my car. Should have brushed the snow off first. I went to the grocery store as planned. It had just closed. Drove to the other store. Looked at the flowers, bought myself whatever food I felt I could eat: pizza bagels, a ready-to-eat fruit and yogurt parfait, sour ju-jubes. If K were here, she would buy me chocolate, I thought to myself, so I bought a Lindt raspberry dark chocolate bar.
By the time I got home, I felt somewhat better. Got the pizza bagels in the oven and put my flowers in a vase. It's a bouquet of white roses with orange and fuchsia gerbera daisies. They're beautiful. I dug out some old photos of friends and set them on the dresser next to the flowers along with some candles and small stuffed animals. I burned the candles, turned out the lights, and sat down with my pizza bagels and the rest of my comfort food to watch Supernatural. Oh, and I should probably be honest and admit that I smoked a bowl right before starting my show. It's a nice way to relax.
I feel better today. Not amazing, but better. That package still needs to go out, and thinking about it brings back that same sick feeling. I also had a weird dream last night that left me feeling disturbed. It had nothing to do with my ex. It involved other people from my past. It's the second weird dream I've had this week. When I try to interpret them on paper, my thoughts come out garbled. So for now let's just say, I think something has shifted with my thinking. My goal for this year is to focus more on looking forward. And if I need to feel like shit for a day or two (or three or four...), then so be it. I'd rather move through the pain than remain stagnant.